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  CHAPTER II

  THE HEROES OF THE FORTS

  The whistling shells burst over Fort Embourg, near by, withever-increasing frequency, while the surgeon, oblivious to theirmenace, worked over the wounded boy. The vibrations of the 6-inch guns,as the forts replied, shook the house, but no one flinched or spokewhile the doctor busied himself with his patient. At last, havingrebandaged the wound, he stepped back and said,

  "There, now, I think he'll do."

  "Where shall we take him, Doctor?" queried the master. "There isn't anyhospital in Embourg, nor in Beaufays, and Liege will have sufficientproblems to face in taking care of its own wounded."

  "The boy can stay here," the doctor replied. "Father will treat him andMother will do all the nursing necessary."

  He looked off into the distance with lowered eyebrows.

  "If all comes true that people have prophesied about the terrors ofmodern war," the surgeon continued, thoughtfully, "it's likely thatevery woman in Belgium will have to become a nurse."

  "Couldn't I stay and help to take care of Deschamps, sir?" asked Horace.

  "No," the master answered, "you're within the zone of fire as it is.You must return to Beaufays without delay."

  Horace would have protested but that he knew the master's words werenot to be gainsaid.

  "Did you say that you were on your way to Liege?" asked the doctorabruptly, turning to the old reservist.

  "Yes," was the reply.

  "Let us go together, then," the doctor said, "for Belgium will need mycase of surgical instruments as much as she will need your rifle. Waita moment until I call Father."

  He returned a minute or two later accompanied by a small and witheredbut keen-eyed old man, whom he introduced to the master and Horace, andto whom he described with technical detail the injuries suffered by thelad who was still extended, motionless, on the operating table.

  "Very well, Hilaire," answered the old man, in a high, reedy voice,"leave the patient to me, my son. I have not forgotten all that I onceknew. Not yet, oh, no!"

  He turned to the master.

  "My son, Monsieur, my son!" he said, paternally. "It is something ofwhich we may be proud, is it not, when our children carry on the workwhich we have begun?"

  The old man patted the young surgeon on the arm, talking garrulouslythe while.

  "A good boy, Monsieur, a good boy," he said. "I was the first to teachhim, but he has outstripped me. Then, too, his wrist has the steadinessof youth, while mine--"

  He held out a shaking hand.

  "But the brain is clear still, Monsieur," he went on, "do not fear.Your pupil shall have the best of care."

  He walked feebly to the operating table. There, his whole figurechanged. Unconsciously his back straightened, his hand ceased totremble, and, as he bent over the patient, his eyes narrowed with thepenetration that they must have borne twenty years before.

  The master observed him closely.

  "The lad is in good hands," he said, in a low voice; "come, let us go."

  He turned to the aged physician.

  "Monsieur," he said, "I feel it is an honor that we of the oldergeneration can still serve Belgium. The first young victim of thiswar is in your keeping. I--" he paused, "I have no children, only thechildren of my school. It is my child, therefore, Monsieur, that Ileave with you."

  "He shall be as a child of mine," the old man answered.

  Father and son embraced and the little party of three left the doctor'shouse.

  At the gate the master paused.

  "Monroe," he said, "you must get back to Beaufays as quickly as youcan. Try to be there before it is altogether dark. Lose no time, but donot go by the road. Strike south across the fields from here until youcome to the river (Ourthe), then follow the banks as far as the roadfrom Tilff, whence it will be safe to take the Beaufays road."

  "Why do you suggest such a roundabout way?" asked the surgeon. "Thelad won't escape danger by making a circuit. Shells drop anywhere andeverywhere. You can't dodge them by taking to the fields instead of theroad."

  The reservist shook his head.

  "There you are wrong, Doctor," he said. "How many shells have fallen inEmbourg Village? None. Yet we are but three-quarters of a mile from thefort. It is only in the immediate neighborhood of the fort that thereis danger. Strange though it may seem to say so, I could wish thatshells were dropping in the village."

  "Why?" asked the surgeon sharply.

  "Because," the master rejoined, "it would demonstrate that the Germansdo not possess the exact range of the fort. Their very accuracy provesthat they do. For that reason, at a distance of half a mile from thefort, the lad will be safe. Nevertheless, Monroe," he added, "if youshould hear a wild shell coming in your direction, throw yourself flaton the ground. The burst of an explosion is always upwards."

  "I'll be careful, sir," answered the boy.

  "Will you please tell Mme. Maubin that I went on to Liege in thecompany of Dr. Mallorbes? Say that I do not wish her to come and seeDeschamps, for I am sure she will wish to do so, and give as my reasonthat the road running below the fort is not safe."

  "I will tell her, sir," said Horace.

  "You will also inform the school to-morrow about Deschamps," themaster continued. "It is a matter of pride to Beaufays, I feel, thatBelgium's first wounded boy hero should be a lad from our own school.And so, good-bye!"

  "Good-bye, sir; good-bye, Dr. Mallorbes," responded Horace.

  He hesitated a moment, as though he would have said something more,then plunged across the fields, as the master had bidden him, back tothe little village of Beaufays.

  The two men watched him for a moment, until his figure was lost in theshadows of the wood on the other side of the field, then set theirfaces for Liege and--it might be--death.

  "I am a good deal disturbed," the doctor began, as they swung out uponthe road, "by your suggestion that the Germans possess the exact rangeof our forts. Where could they get the information?"

  "Spies," the master answered. "Belgium is honeycombed with them, hasbeen for years. You know--all the world knows--that Germany spendsmillions of marks yearly on her secret service system and nearly allher agents are military spies. The exact location of our forts cannotbe hidden. It is not a secret. They are plain to see. What is easierfor a spy than to search the neighborhood of a fort thoroughly, perhapson a Sunday morning walk, to find some well-hidden position for a gunof a certain caliber, and to calculate, to the last inch, the exactdistance of that position from the fort? It is simplicity itself."

  "What of that," said the doctor, "when the gun itself is not there?"

  "But when the gun is there!" the master retorted. "When the invasionis accomplished, think of the advantage which such information gives!There is no need to send out scouting parties to bring back estimatesof distances; there is no need to waste energy, time, and ammunitionin trial shots, during which time the battery might be subjected tofire from the guns of the fort. None of that. Secretly and silently,probably during the night or behind a screen of cavalry, a howitzer maybe dragged up to the place selected by the spy and marked in detail ona large scale map. The officer commanding the battery knows the exactdirection in which the fort bears and has already worked out the exactangle of elevation for the range. He has nothing to do but to order theaim and elevation and to fire, knowing, in advance, that his shells canfall nowhere but on the fort itself. It is not marksmanship, it ismathematics."

  _Belgian Official Photograph._

  ARMORED TRAIN DEFENDING ANTWERP.]

  _Belgian Official Photograph._

  ARMORED CAR HARASSING INVADERS.]

  "You think this has been done with the forts at Liege!" ejaculated thedoctor.

  "That is evident," was the reply. "See, this is a night bombardment.There are no advance posts, no aeroplanes to report back the results ofgun-fire. Yet the German shells are falling on the forts with deadlyprecision, falling on forts which the gunners have never seen. I doubtif there is a single f
ortified place in Belgium of which the Germans donot possess accurate plans."

  "Then you think they will break through?"

  "We cannot hope to prevent it," the master answered. "The Kaiser'sgenerals would never attack Liege unless they were confident ofsuccess. Since they know exactly what we possess for defense, theywould not be sure of success unless they knew that they possessed aninfinitely stronger force of attack."

  "But I have heard that the forts of Liege were impregnable!"

  "They were when they were built," the master answered, "but that istwenty years ago. Against the guns of that period, notably the 6-inchhowitzer, they were impregnable, for every possible gun-position for aweapon of that range was covered by the guns of the fort. But if piecesof heavier power can bombard the forts from positions outside the rangeof the fortress guns, then impregnability is gone. You must remember,Doctor, that the power of a gun increases as the cube of its caliber ordiameter of its bore. Thus a 12-inch gun is not twice as powerful as a6-inch gun, but eight times as powerful."

  "Are there such heavy guns?"

  "There are," was the answer. "Field guns of 8.4-inch and 10-inchcaliber are known to exist, and the German War Party is reported tohold the secret of still more powerful engines of destruction, ofwhich, as yet, the outer world knows nothing."

  "Look, you, M. Maubin," said the surgeon, "you seem to know quite a lotabout these things, while I've concerned myself mainly with my medicalbooks and haven't paid much attention to military affairs. Explain tome, if you will be so good, the significance of this contest betweenthe fortifications of Liege and the new German guns."

  "It is the death-grapple which will decide the fate of Belgium--perhapsthat of Europe--within a week," the master answered. "Its outcome willsettle the greatest military controversy of our times. One way or theother, it will change the face of war forever. This question is whethermodern artillery has become so powerful that no permanent masonryfortification can resist it. If so, the development of two thousandyears of fortification must be thrown aside as useless and defense mustbecome mobile.

  "Liege is what is known as a ring fortress, that is, the city itselfis not fortified but it is ringed round with twelve forts, betweentwo and three miles apart from each other and averaging a distance offive miles from the city. Thus the forts form a circumference of 32miles, so arranged that if any one fort is silenced the cross-fire ofthe forts on either side controls the gap. Six are forts of the firstorder, Pontisse, Barchon, and Fleron on the north and east, Loncin,Flemalles, and Boncelles on the west and south. The other six arefortins or small forts, like Embourg."

  "Are they strongly armed?" the doctor asked.

  "Moderately so. They have modern guns, though not of the largestcaliber. There are four hundred guns in all the forts combined, mainly6-inch and 4.7-inch guns and 8-inch mortars. The big 9-inch guns,which were ordered from Krupp's for delivery more than three yearsago, have never reached us. We see, now, that Germany would not allowthem to be delivered. She did not intend to run the risk of invading awell-armed Belgium."

  "But isn't a 6-inch a fairly big gun?"

  "Not for permanent works," the master replied. "The United Stateshas two 16-inch guns in her coast defenses and there are plenty of12-inch guns in permanent fortifications. Naval guns, of course, arebigger. They have to be. You can't 'take cover' at sea and long rangestherefore are necessary. Modern super-Dreadnoughts,[3] armed with15-inch guns, regard their 6-inch batteries as merely secondary.

  "Our principal weakness," he continued, "is that Brialmont's fulldesign of infantry trenches and sunken emplacements for lightartillery has never been completed. Besides, our army is in a stateof transition, as you know, for it is only a year and a half since anew system was put into operation. That makes it difficult for us tomobilize quickly, while Germany has been completely mobilized for sometime."

  "Still," responded the doctor, trying to find some hope in the outlook,"we have the advantage of being on the defensive. I've read, somewhere,that it takes three times as many men to drive an attack as to hold aline of defense."

  "That is true," agreed the master.

  "They can't be more than three to one," said the doctor, "so as fast asthey come, we'll smash them."

  "Perhaps we might have a better chance," the old reservist said,doubtfully, "if General Leman and our Third Division were here. Butit's not the German soldiers of which I'm afraid, but these newhowitzers."

  "Why?" asked the doctor. "Isn't a howitzer a gun? What's the differencebetween them, anyway?"

  "I'll show you the difference in a minute," the master replied, "but Iwant, first, to give you a clear idea of one of our big forts, so thatyou can realize the problem that the Germans must tackle. Each of thesix main forts around Liege is built in the form of a triangle, eachis placed in a commanding natural position, and each, in addition, isapproached by a steep artificial mound, in the interior of which liethe works of the fort. At the top of the earth slope, the edge dropssuddenly into a deep ditch, of which the counterscarp is a massivemasonry wall topped with wire entanglements. The entire earth slope andwall is exposed to the guns of the fort, throwing shrapnel, and to firefrom machine guns and rifles."

  "Before the Germans get a footing in the fort, then," said the doctor,"they will have to storm a stretch of ground absolutely riddled withfire."

  "They will."

  "That means a heavy loss of life."

  "A terrible loss of life," the master agreed. "Moreover, even shouldthey advance in such masses that we could not kill them fast enough andthus they should storm the slope and win the ditch, they would be in astill worse plight. Powerful quick-firing guns, mounted in cupolas ateach angle of the triangle, sweep the sunken ditch with an enfiladingfire. No troops could live through such an inferno of bullets.

  "On the main inner triangle is the infantry parapet, shaped somewhatlike a heart, pierced for rifle fire and with machine-gun emplacementsat the angles. In the hollow of that heart-like space rises a solidcentral mass of concrete, on and in which are the shelters and guncupolas. The mortar cupolas rise from the floor of the hollow, outsidethe central mass. These are invisible to the foe until raised bymachinery within, when they command the entire neighborhood and canfire their 6-inch shells in any direction."

  The doctor rubbed his hands briskly.

  "If that's the way our forts are built," he said, "and if they are wellprovisioned and have plenty of ammunition, we ought to be able to snapour fingers at the Kaiser. All we have to do is to wait for the Germansto come and shoot them down by thousands. They'll go packing back toGermany quick enough if we give them a reception like that."

  "Perhaps," said the old reservist, "but you have forgotten about thehowitzers."

  "Why, yes, so I had," the doctor answered, more gravely; "you weregoing to tell me about them."

  "The difference in principle between a gun and a howitzer or a mortar,"explained the master, "is that a gun depends for its destructivenesson its striking velocity, while a howitzer depends on the power of theexploding charge of its shell. An armor-piercing shell, fired from a15-inch naval gun, will go through the heaviest and hardest steelknown, because of the terrific speed at which it travels, with a muzzlevelocity of three thousand feet a second or thirty-four miles a minute.In order not to lose speed, therefore, it must travel in as straight aline as possible. In other words, a missile from a gun must have a longlow curve or trajectory."

  "Yes," said the doctor, "I can see that."

  "A howitzer, on the other hand," the master explained, "does notrequire any more velocity than just to carry the high-explosive shellto the point designed. Moreover, in order that their terrible effectsmay be the more destructive, mortars and howitzers drop their shellsfrom overhead upon the object of fire by lobbing them up in the airwith a very high trajectory. A howitzer generally looks as though itwere shooting at the moon. It can be placed in a valley and fire overthe hill. But, as you can see, its range is restricted. A naval gunthrowing an 8-inch sh
ell may have a range of sixteen miles, while the8-inch howitzer operates best from three or four miles away.

  "You see, Doctor," he continued, "if our defenses have beenconstructed upon the basis of attack from heavy field-guns and lighthowitzers--which is the system of most European armies--if our energyhas been spent on disappearing cupolas and sunken masonry works whichwill resist gun-fire, is there not a terrible danger if we are attackedby heavy howitzers, dropping high explosive shells from overhead? Tosuch shells it will make no difference whether the cupolas be raised orlowered.

  "If it be true," the old reservist added, his voice rising with a noteof presage, "if it be true what is whispered about these new Germansiege howitzers, then destruction will rain upon the forts of Liege asthough the skies were a mouth of flame.

  "Perhaps never before, in the history of the world, has so much hungupon the range and power of a modern weapon. We await the eruption of aman-forged volcano which may engulf us all in its fiery lava."

  The doctor passed his hand over his face and looked up unconsciously,half in fear as though the doom was on them.

  "You make it very ugly," he said.

  The master paced on through the late dusk, a glow from the distantgunfire mingling with the faint starlight on his face.

  "It matters very little if the End be ugly," he replied, "so long asthe road be that of heroism."

  The two men walked silently some little space, each following the trendof his own ideas, until, where the road branched off to Chenee, two menjoined them.

  "Have you any late news?" the master asked.

  "The Ninth Regiment has been ordered forward between Fleron andChaudfontaine," said the older of the newcomers, "and the Fourteenth isto be sent here, to cover Embourg and Boncelles."

  "And you--where do you go?"

  "To report," the stranger answered; "there will be work enough for usall to do."

  "Have you any idea of what numbers we will have to face?"

  The other shrugged his shoulders.

  "Maybe one army corps, maybe two--maybe all Germany. Who knows?"

  Darkness closed down upon Liege, the darkness of that August Fourth,such as even that ancient city had never known, a somber pall of shadowpierced with vivid streaks from the flaming fortress guns. Powerfulsearchlights hunted the countryside with their malevolent eyes. Deathscreamed and screeched in the trees. The horrible and cruel work ofwar hid its unloveliness that first night in the shelter of the woodssurrounding the eastern forts of Liege.

  The four men soon reached military headquarters. Already casualtycases had begun to arrive and Dr. Mallorbes was promptly assigned toone of the hospitals. The two reservists from Chenee were sent to theshallow trenches defending the approaches to Fort Chaudfontaine, and,at his earnest request, the master was allowed to join his battery atBoncelles.

  When, however, the master found himself actually in the fort and undermilitary discipline, much of his pessimism passed away. He fell,naturally, into the fatalism of the soldier, and, as he remarked theextraordinarily powerful machinery and defenses of the fort, said tohis neighbor,

  "They're counting on our not being ready. But everything here seems upto the minute!"

  His fellow-gunner, also an old reservist who had served with thebattery before, chuckled as he answered,

  "Our silent general has fooled them. General Leman has reached herewith the Third Division."

  "But the Third was at Diest, eighty miles away, the day beforeyesterday!" exclaimed the master.

  "It is here now, and taking up positions. And the Germans, for alltheir spies, don't know it. They'll try to rush the forts to-morrow,expecting to find them lightly held, and then we'll pepper them finely."

  "How many men does that give us here at Liege?" the master asked.

  "About twenty-two thousand."

  "And the Germans?"

  "Three army corps, probably; a hundred thousand men, at least,[4] andas many more as they like to bring."

  "And all confident of breaking through?"

  "Quite," said the other, nodding. "There was a young German officercaptured yesterday at Vise who jeered at the mere idea of our daring tooppose them.

  "'It is the idea of little children that Belgium can resist,' he said.'In two days we take Liege, in a week we are before Paris. It is allarranged. It is like a time-table. Nothing can prevent victory.Nothing will stop us. If any one hinders, we will roll them into thesea.'"

  "Time-tables have been disarranged before now," said the masterthoughtfully, "and it is worth remembering that the more rigid is theorganization the more hopeless is the confusion when something goeswrong."

  "If we can check them here--"

  "Then," said the master, "they will never get to Paris."

  So, under the plucky but inadequate fire of their forts, the 22,500Belgians awaited the attack of 120,000 Germans. They knew, thoseheroes, those martyrs to the ideals of honor, that Germany had untoldmillions to roll up against them, should their resistance prove to bean obstacle.

  It was almost dawn when the first attack began at Evegnee and Barchon.There, the sentries on duty, watching the hillsides opposite to them,saw what seemed to be an undulation of the earth, as though the soilwere heaving like the sea. As the morning light cleared the mists away,these waves were seen to be vast bodies of infantry, their iron-grayuniforms indistinguishable against the dawn-lighted grass.

  Came a sharp order to fire.

  Red mouths of death opened. From trench[5] and fort, rifle-fire ran itscrackling harmony to the crash of the 6-inch guns and the insistentrattle of the ear-rasping machine gun. In this hideous repertory ofnoise, the Hotchkiss machine-guns, used in the forts, and the Berthierguns, used by the infantry and drawn by a dog team, joined theirconcert of destruction.

  It was no discredit to the German soldiers that they fell back. No one,neither General von Emmich, his officers, nor his men, expected to findthe Belgian trenches so strongly held. The check was only momentary,however, merely long enough to allow the face of the hills to grow alittle brighter, long enough to show clearly to the gallant defendersthe tremendous odds they had to face.

  The iron-gray masses of the German infantry advanced stolidly into thatmaw of death. It was unlike all the parade conceptions of battle. Therewere no flaming colors, no horses curveting around a golden-tasseledstandard, no blare of bands, none of the pomp and panoply of war. Only,above the hills which circled the forts, rose the slowly deepeningrose of the dawn; only, on the ground below, crept the steady ant-likeadvance of thousands of men who would be dead before the rising sun hadrisen.

  _Courtesy of "Panorama de la Guerre."_

  THE FIRST CLASH.

  Belgians with the dog-drawn machine guns, disputing the invasion oftheir country by the hordes of the Hun. Note the open warfare withoutcover or trenches.]

  "As line after line of the German infantry advanced," wrote a Belgianofficer, when describing this first day's fighting, "we simply mowedthem down. It was all too terribly easy, and I turned to a brotherofficer of mine more than once and said to him,

  "'Voila! They are coming on again in a dense, close formation! Theymust be mad!'

  "They made no attempt at deploying, but came on, line after line,almost shoulder to shoulder, until, as we shot them down, the fallenwere heaped one on top of another, in an awful barricade of dead andwounded men that threatened to mask our guns and cause us trouble.

  "I thought of Napoleon's saying--if he ever said it, and I doubt it,for he had no care of human life--

  "'C'est magnifique, mais ce n'est pas la guerre!' (Magnificent! But itis not War!)

  "No, that plunge forward of the German infantry that day was not war,it was slaughter--just slaughter.

  "So high became the barricade of dead and wounded that we did not knowwhether to fire through it or to go out and clear openings with ourhands. We would have liked to extricate some of the wounded from thedead, but we dared not. A stiff wind carried away the smoke of the gunsquickly, and we coul
d see some of the wounded men trying to releasethemselves from their terrible position. I will confess I crossedmyself and could have wished that the smoke had remained!

  "But, would you believe it, this veritable wall of dead and dyingactually enabled those wonderful Germans to creep closer and actuallycharge up the glacis (slope of the fort). Of course, they got nofurther than half way, for our Maxims and rifles swept them back. Wehad our own losses, but they were slight compared with the carnageinflicted on our enemies."

  No, it was not war that day, it was slaughter.

  What did this waste of life mean? What reason, what excuse could therebe which would justify the reckless sacrifice of men against thegunfire, the machine-gun-fire and the rifle-fire of the forts of Liege?

  There is only one answer. General von Emmich, Commander-in-Chief ofthe Army of the Meuse, had been entrusted with the task of breakingthrough Liege quickly, at all hazards. Everything must be madesubservient to speed. The loss of a few thousand men would not crippleGermany. The loss of a few days spelled failure.

  Counting mainly on the element of surprise, for it was only thirty-fourhours before that Germany announced her intention of violatingneutrality, the Army of the Meuse was traveling light. It had not beenhampered in its onward drive with the heavy siege guns. Those monsterswere being laboriously dragged on to Namur, as lighter guns, it wasthought, would suffice to reduce Liege, taken as it was by surprise.

  Moreover, Von Emmich knew that General Leman and the Third BelgianDivision had been far away the day before. Every hour, undoubtedly,brought them nearer; every hour rendered the element of surprise lessvaluable. Wherefore, as an advocate of the German theory of war whichdeclares that any place can be rushed, no matter how strongly defended,if the attacking force be large enough and sacrifice of life is notcounted, Von Emmich hurled his men forward ruthlessly and regardlesslyinto a revelry of carnage.

  If Germany was staggered at her dead, the commander of the Army ofthe Meuse did not show it that day. From morning until evening theiron-gray infantry charged, were mown down, fell back and chargedagain. Wave after wave of men swept up those slopes, never to return.The human tide seemed endless. For not one moment, in all that day,did the billows of soldier victims cease to pound forward to theirbloody doom; for not one moment, in all that day, did the Belgians,though with smoke-bleared eyes and dropping from exhaustion, fail toanswer. Since morning there had been no respite, not even for a meal.At evening, the piles of German dead and wounded rose five feet high inlong lines over the rolling landscape.

  When night fell upon the Fifth of August, German power had suffered asevere blow. That first day's fighting of the war in the west had shownthat 22,500 Belgians, though hastily mobilized, could hold back 120,000Germans, prepared to the last detail. It disproved, forever, the Germantheory that masses of men can overcome machine-gun-fire by sheer weightof numbers. It displayed that the German system of firing from thehip, instead of from the shoulder, resulted in bad marksmanship anda reckless waste of ammunition. It revealed that the German soldierfights with dogged and relentless driving force in a mass, but is weakas an individual and will not face cold steel. Most important of all,it shattered the reputation of the Kaiser's generals for infallibilityand of the Kaiser's army for invincibility.

  The first day's fighting was a German defeat. That, at least, stoodout clear. To cap the triumph, two Belgian counter-attacks had beensuccessful. German outposts were scattered by an assault on theheights of Wandre, the Garde Civique cut up and practically destroyedan attacking force near Boncelles, while the Belgian Lancers coveredthemselves with glory when, with one squadron, they charged upon sixsquadrons of German cavalry and put them to rout.

  On the other hand, this one day's conflict justified the German theoryof the power of high-explosive shell against permanent fortifications.The bombardment continued all day and all night without cessation.With an army of only 22,500 men, there was no relief. Every man was oncontinuous duty. It was evident from the first that the forts finallymust fall, for the attacking 8.4-inch howitzers fired from points outof reach of the fortress guns and the destructive force of their shellswas such that it gradually but surely reduced the strongest armor-steeland concrete masonry to ruins.

  Yet, although the forts were doomed, they were not destined toimmediate fall. The Germans had miscalculated. They had not deemedit necessary to bring their biggest siege guns to the demolition ofLiege. Indeed, they could not spare them. Those monstrous behemothsof ordnance could only crawl, even when dragged by thirteen tractionengines, and they were needed at Namur, which the Germans rightlyexpected would be defended by the French Army and would be a harder nutto crack.

  A full moon rose on the night of the Fifth of August, revealing theartillery duel in savage continuance. At the end of nearly twenty-fourhours' fighting, the master, at his post of duty in Fort Boncelles,was at the point of exhaustion. He realized that age was a serioushandicap. Though as full of spirit and fire as the younger men, thephysical stamina would hardly bear the strain. He winced at everyshell that struck, and, though his watchfulness was as keen and hisardor not abated, the frame was breaking down.

  The commander of the fort, himself well on in years, touched the oldreservist kindly on the arm.

  "It is the courage of the old which stirs the young," he said. "To beable to give the last flare of our spirits to our country--ah, that isworth while."

  But he found a corner where the old patriot might snatch a few hours'troubled sleep.

  In order that the Belgian troops might not have a chance to rest, VonEmmich made feint after feint all through the night. The exhaustedand harassed Belgians were rushed from point to point to fill in thedefense as best they could. It was cruel, driving, killing work, whenthe muscles clicked from sheer fatigue and the men moved leadenly as ina dream. Under such overstrain, men could not last, but every hour ofdelay meant ruin to Germany and gain to the Allies.

  During the night, more and more German guns were put in place, and bythe morning of August 6, several score 8.4-inch howitzers were hurlingtheir shells directly on Forts Fleron and Evegnee. When daylightbroke, Evegnee was a ruin and the Belgian infantry had fallen back. Ateight o'clock, one of the huge shells shattered the gun machinery ofFort Fleron.

  General Leman ordered the retreat of the Belgian army from its advancedposition, realizing that it was absolutely impossible to defend a line33 miles long with an exhausted army, now reduced by losses to 18,000men. He summoned his officers to a military council to lay down thenew dispositions on the farther side of the Meuse, under cover of thewestern forts.

  Suddenly, during the council, the general was startled by loud shoutingand the sounds of a struggle outside. Knowing that the Germans werehammering at the gates of the city and that Fleron had fallen, hefeared an advance cavalry patrol. He ran down-stairs and out of thedoor, to find himself confronted by eight men in German uniform.

  The general darted back.

  "A pistol!" he cried.

  The Germans surged forward to seize the general, a crowd of Belgiancivilians behind. They did not dare to touch the invaders, knowing thatany effort would be deemed a "hostile act by non-combatants" whichwould afford excuse to the Germans for making reprisals.

  With a quick movement, General Leman slipped sidewise past his would-becaptors, the crowd opening to let him through. The Germans plunged intothe crowd after him, but a brother officer of the general caught uphis chief bodily and slung him over a neighboring wall, which chancedto be the boundary of a foundry yard. At the same instant, the rest ofthe officers who had been at the council came clattering out. Swordsflashed out. Three of the Germans were killed and, some members ofthe Garde Civique being attracted by the commotion, the rest weremade prisoners. They were found to be spies, who had secreted Germanuniforms and arms in a house next door to military headquarters, withthis very intention of capturing the Belgian commanders in a moment ofsurprise.

  With the withdrawal of the troops from the advance trenches,
theholding of the eastern forts became an impossibility. Thus, onreceiving news of the retreat, Major Mameche, the Commandant of FortChaudfontaine, the strategic value of which lay in its controllingthe entrance to the Chaudfontaine railway tunnel, blocked thetunnel by colliding several engines at its mouth and then fired hispowder-magazine, blowing up the fort.

  Towards midday a message was received from General von Emmich,demanding the surrender of the city. The civil authorities werewilling, in order to save the city from destruction, but General Leman,as Military Commandant, curtly refused to abandon the forts. He wasfighting for time. Already two days had passed and only one of the sixlarger forts had fallen. To France and to England--which had enteredthe war because of Germany's violation of Belgium--every day gainedthen was worth a week later.

  A panic followed upon General Leman's refusal, citizens who fearedthe results of the bombardment of the city jamming every out-boundtrain. Every possible influence was brought to bear on the MilitaryCommandant. His only answer was,

  "The forts must hold."

  At 6 o'clock that evening a slight bombardment began, not enough todamage the city seriously, but heavy enough to denote the fate thatwould come to Liege if a destructive bombardment were undertaken.

  Steadily, with the persistence of final doom, the high-explosive shellsdropped their volcanic furies upon the doomed forts. The continuoushail of bombs served a double purpose, not only wrecking the fortsthemselves but breaking down human resistance in the defenders.

  On the morning of August 7 a small party of Germans appeared in frontof the fort of Boncelles, and carrying a white flag.

  "I don't trust them," growled the master.

  "Oh, come," said his comrade, "that's a little too strong! Even theGermans wouldn't be so dishonorable as to violate a flag of truce.That's respected even by savages who fight with assegai and shield."

  "I'm not so sure," was the master's reply, but he went with the partyof twenty which sallied from the fort to receive the surrender of theGermans.

  Suspiciously the Belgians approached, for the master's incertitude wasshared by several of the men, but, as they came near, the Germans heldup their hands.

  "Kamerad!" they cried, in token of surrender.

  Instantly, as though the throwing up of the hands had been aprearranged signal, a murderous cross-fire from the woods on eitherside was poured upon the advancing Belgians. Only seven of the twenty,the master among them, returned to the fort alive.

  The commandant of the fort was livid with rage, and the Belgianinfantry in the shallow trenches near by, in a crisis of fury, chargedthe woods with infinitely inferior numbers and slew every lurkingGerman found there. No quarter was given that day.

  Meanwhile, through the gap in the defenses formed by the fall of FortsFleron and Evegnee, the Germans advanced into Liege. They occupied thetown without opposition, and yet--and yet--five of the great fortsremained unsilenced. The unique capture of a city when its defenseswere still untaken was only possible because the Belgians, forpatriotic reasons, did not wish to fire upon the town. Fort Barchon,one of the eastern forts, isolated from the new line of defense, felllater in the day.

  Into the city poured the iron-gray masses of the German troops, but thesatisfaction of the rank and file was not shared by the officers. Theyknew the truth of failure. It was the third day, already, and FortsPontisse, Loncin, Flemalles and Boncelles were still holding out.Moreover, if the little Belgian army had defied them on a long line, itwould be still better able to do so when holding a line only a thirdas long and reenforced by fresh troops. Von Emmich was savage, and hissavagery showed itself later. True, he was in Liege, but that did himlittle good. Brussels and Paris were not far away, but Fort Loncinprotected the main railway line to Brussels and Forts Flemalles andBoncelles defended the main railway line to Paris. The path was not yetclear.

  _British Official Photograph._

  TAKING SOUP TO THE FIRING-LINE.

  Dangerous duty, for the bearer cannot lie down on the approach of ashell. Note bags of grenades carried in case of surprise.]

  General Leman's army, with its numbers brought up to 36,000 men byreenforcements, now formed a dangerous menace to the advance. TheBelgian general had out-maneuvered the German commander at everyturn, and, in taking up a position on the farther side of the Meuse,he was prepared to make things still hotter for the invaders. He wasnot trying to stop the progress of the army but had concentrated hisenergies on the defense of the forts, for he knew that, as long as theforts stood, the German Army dared not debouch into the plain, leavingbehind it an imperiled line of communication.

  The German enveloping movement now extended northward to FortPontisse, bombarding it, however, from the eastern bank of the Meuse.For field-gun fire, however, the forts were well protected and therewere no hidden positions available for the 8.4-inch howitzers. If theGermans were to take Pontisse, they must cross the Meuse. Over and overagain they stormed the crossing, fighting like madmen. Ten pontoonbridges, one after the other, were built across the river in the faceof an appalling gun fire, but, each time, the fortress guns succeededin destroying them and those troops which had crossed were cut off andkilled to a man.

  Similar flanking strategy was attempted to the south, where FortFlemalles was attacked, also from the eastern bank of the river. Here,after several hours of sharp fighting, the Germans secured a landingon the western bank, but could not bring over any heavy artillery. Thelittle army of defense contested every foot of ground with reckless andgay bravery, and the larger howitzers were compelled to remain on theeastern side of the river.

  Fort Boncelles, as the Commandant himself was heard to describe it,was "like the stoke-hold of hell." It had no river to support itsdefenses. All the forts to the east of it, save Embourg, had fallen,allowing a terrific concentration of enemy artillery. On the otherhand, the ground around Boncelles was well adapted to the sweep ofthe larger fortress guns. If there was the slightest pause in theGerman attack, a cupola would rise and send a storm of shrapnel intothe enemy's ranks. Then the tempest of death would sweep down uponBoncelles once more. Von Emmich was in Liege with 120,000 men, butlittle Belgium shook her fist in his face and he dared not go on.

  The demolition of the forts began on August 13. On that day, the heavysiege guns (two, it is believed), which the Germans had not intended tobring into action against Liege, entered the city and crawled throughit to take up positions against the western forts. So affrighting werethese engines of war that the German artillery did not attempt tooperate them. They were handled by mechanics from the Krupp factory,the artillery officers merely working out the ranges.

  Prior to this time, such guns had never been dreamed of save inartillerists' nightmares. The weight of the great German siege gun is71 tons. It is transported in four pieces, each part being dragged bythree traction engines on caterpillar wheels, a thirteenth and largerengine going ahead to test the road and to assist each section ingoing up hills. The caliber of the gun is 16.4-inch (42-centimeter).The shell stands as high as a man's chin and weighs 1684 pounds.The percussion fuse is of mercury fulminate, which in its turnexplodes nitro-glycerine, which explodes picric-acid powder, thusgiving the bursting charge to the terrible force of an explosion oftri-nitro-toluol, one of the most destructive explosives known. About280 pounds of this inconceivably powerful destructive is contained inthe shell.[6]

  Nothing so terrible had ever before been seen in war as the effect ofthese great shells. Men were not simply killed and wounded, they wereblackened, burnt, smashed into indistinguishable pulp of bone and flesh.

  When these engines of devastation arrived, General Leman knew that theend was near. Although severely wounded three days before, his spiritknew no thought of surrender. In Fort Loncin with a handful of men,he awaited the bombardment which could mean nothing but death. Thefall of Fort Loncin was described by a German infantry officer who wasattached to the Army of the Meuse.

  "General Leman's defense of Liege," he wrote admiringly, "combin
ed allthat is noble and all that is tragic.

  "As long as possible, he inspected the forts daily to see thateverything was in order. By a piece of falling masonry, dislodged byour guns, both General Leman's legs were crushed. Undaunted, he visitedthe forts in an automobile. In the strong Fort Loncin, General Lemandecided to hold his ground or die.

  "When the end was inevitable, the Belgians disabled the last three gunsand exploded the supply of shells kept in readiness by the guns. Beforethis, General Leman destroyed all plans, maps and papers relating tothe defenses. The food supplies also were destroyed. With about 100men, General Leman attempted to retire to another fort, but we had cutoff their retreat.

  "By this time our heaviest guns were in position and a well-placedshell tore through the cracked and battered masonry and exploded in themain magazine. With a thunderous crash, the mighty walls of the fortfell. Pieces of stone and concrete 25 cubic meters in size (as big as alarge room) were hurled into the air.

  "When the dust and fumes passed away, we stormed the fort across groundliterally strewn with the bodies of troops who had gone out beforeto storm the fort and never returned. All the men left alive in thefort were wounded and most were unconscious. A corporal, with one armshattered, valiantly tried to drive us back by firing his rifle. Buriedin the debris and pinned beneath a massive beam was General Leman.

  "'Respect for the general! He is dead!' said a Belgian aide-de-camp.

  "With gentleness and care, which showed they respected the man who hadresisted them so valiantly and stubbornly, our infantry released thegeneral's wounded form and carried him away. We thought him dead, buthe recovered consciousness, and looking round, said,

  "'It is as it is. The men fought bravely.'

  "Then, turning to us, he added,

  "'Put in your dispatches that I was unconscious.'

  "We brought him to our commander, General von Emmich, and the twogenerals saluted. We tried to speak words of comfort, but he wassilent--he is known as the silent general.

  "'I was unconscious. Be sure and put that in your dispatches.'

  "More he would not say."

  Fort Boncelles disputed with Fort Loncin the honor of being the last tofall. It is not known, definitely, which of the two resisted longest.

  The night before the fall of Fort Loncin, the electric-lighting systemof Boncelles was destroyed. The men--the master among them--fought allnight through in utter darkness, groping for the machinery of theirguns and in momentary expectation of suffocation and death from theGerman shells.

  The high-explosive charges tore and shattered the armor-steel andmasonry as though they had been cardboard, and shortly before dawn,wide breaches in the walls showed the peaceful starlight shiningthrough. Though the fort was a wreck, three guns were working still.

  A fragment of shell struck the master. He fell.

  His comrade, dropping to one knee beside him, heard the dying manwhisper,

  "Take this to my wife!"

  The comrade reached his hand to the designated pocket, took out thelittle packet, put it inside his tunic and returned to his gun.

  An hour after sunrise a shell tore through the rear cupola of Boncellesand plucked it up as a weed is torn up by its roots. The German officerwho was directing the attack offered to accept a surrender.

  The Belgian commandant answered,

  "We have still two guns to fight with!"

  Only one shell more fell on Fort Boncelles, but it landed full in themiddle of the ruined structure, and was one of the shells from the11-inch howitzers. The inner concrete walls fell to dust, pieces ofarmor-steel and gun shelters were hurled a quarter of a mile away andboth the remaining guns were silenced.

  Eleven men remained to surrender the fort, not one of them unwounded,all nearly crazed with the endurance of nine days and nights of themost terrific bombardment known to man. Dazed, deaf and exhausted tothe verge of insanity, they were brought before their captors. Onlythree were able to speak, one of them the master's comrade.

  "What have you there?" asked a junior officer, as the Belgian feeblyresisted search.

  A German soldier snatched the packet from his tunic.

  "Only a message from a comrade," the Belgian mumbled, his words thickwith collapse.

  The officer opened the packet, ran his eye through the letter, lookedat Mme. Maubin's photograph, and, with a contemptuous exclamation,tossed the photograph and letter into a little stream that flowed bythe roadside.

  The Belgian, enraged at this callous action, for the moment forgetfulof his wounds and the lassitude of prostration, lurched forward toseize the officer's throat. He was promptly seized, and, as he was heldthere, almost swooning, a captive and unarmed, the officer drew hispistol and shot him dead.

  In this wise the Germans took Liege.

  FOOTNOTES:

  [3] The _Queen Elizabeth_, under the British flag, the most powerfulvessel at the opening of the war, carried eight 15-inch guns andsixteen 6-inch guns as an auxiliary battery.

  [4] General Von Emmich's advance force, irrespective of reserves, was120,000 men.

  [5] This does not mean the trench of modern trench warfare, but theold-fashioned shallow rifle-pit.

  [6] These figures are not official, but are careful estimates fromknown facts by leading artillerists of the Allies.