Chapter 4
The Western Front
August 4, 1914
Robert met Elizabeth and Margaret at the Boar’s Head’s Behin’. There were hugs all around, Robert subsequently announcing the reason for inviting them there. “Sorry to ask you both here on short notice, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to beg off on the day trip to Glasgow.”
“Why ever for?” Elizabeth inquired in confusion.
“I’m not sure whether you’ve heard. The Germans have attacked Belgium and France. Britain declared war on Germany today.”
“Yes, I was so informed,” Margaret responded.
Elizabeth interjected vapidly, “What has that got to do with anything?”
At this Robert retorted, “Unfortunately, it has everything to do with everything! Our country is at war! I shall be suiting up in a military uniform, and quite likely crossing the Channel to fight in Europe very soon.”
Dragging her hand to her throat, Elizabeth responded, “Surely not!”
“I’m afraid so, Elizabeth,” Robert murmured, “My father sent me a telegram today. I must return home on the morrow. He has secured a lieutenancy for me in the Army, effective immediately. I am going off to war, I’m afraid.”
At this, Elizabeth burst into tears and, grabbing him in a desperate embrace, she blurted, “Oh, Robert! This is awful! What shall we do?”
Eyeing her disconsolately, he offered, “I’m afraid there is nothing that can be done. This conflagration may be over in a week, or it may last into the next year. Rest assured, I shall return to Edinburgh when it is all over, but when that may be is anyone’s guess.”
Margaret, who had to this point stood silently observing the two embrace, offered unobtrusively, “I am proud of you, Robert.”
“Thank you, Margaret,” he responded with discernible surprise and, taking her hand politely, he added, “But you needn’t be. Were it not for my lineage, I don’t know that I would have chosen this course of action. As it is, I’m afraid I have no choice. Such are the responsibilities of membership in the peerage.”
At this Margaret proffered, “Still, you have responded fittingly mate, and, at least to my eye, you are well suited for this challenge. I for one wish you all the best, and I hope that you shall return to us in due course and in good health.”
“Thank you, Margaret,” he responded and, reaching for her hand, he squeezed it politely. “Ladies,” he added, “I trust that we shall meet again, hopefully in happier circumstances. As you must know, you two, along with Alastair, have become my best friends on this earth.”
Elizabeth grasped him in a tearful hug and, burying her face in his chest, she mumbled a muffled rejoinder, “We shall meet again soon. I’m quite certain of it. God speed, Robert.”
Now he came to Margaret and, words momentarily escaping him, he whispered gently, “Margaret, dear Margaret! How I shall miss you!”
At this tender gesture, Margaret too broke into uncontrollable sobs, murmuring, “Oh, Robert! Robert! How shall we go on without you?”
“There, there,” he responded and, embracing her in an affectionate hug, he soothed, “We shall see one another again. Rest assured - I shall move heaven and earth.”
The two ladies then stood back, uncertain exactly what else to do or say. Robert paused a moment, spun away as if to depart but, turning back one last time, he inquired, “Before I go, I am wondering – just exactly why did you do it?”
“Do what?” Elizabeth queried in apparent confusion.
“You know, show off your knickers to the boys up on Arthur’s Seat that night?”
Margaret, her demeanor suddenly altered measurably, spat out abrasively, “You were never supposed to mention it, remember?”
“I thought that only applied to Alastair and his friends,” he exclaimed delicately, “Which one of you was it, anyway?”
“Look, just forget it, Robert,” Margaret replied. “You’ve had your eyeful, and now that you too are going off to war, consider that we have afforded you a proper sendoff as well.”
Sensing that he had blundered badly, he nonetheless suggested lamely, “How about a farewell kiss then?”
“Under the circumstances, I’d say that is out of the question,” Margaret responded.
“Alright, then,” he murmured regretfully, “Goodbye, dear ladies,” and with that, he exited briskly from the pub.
Once out on the street, he heard a voice behind him call, “Robert, wait!” Turning, he saw Elizabeth dashing madly toward him. Grasping him tightly, she exclaimed, “Here,” and so saying, she kissed him in wild abandonment. Subsequently pulling away, she spluttered in embarrassment, “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t let you go off to war without one last kiss. I shall miss you terribly, Robert!”
“And I you, dear Elizabeth,” he responded. And so saying, he turned on his heel one last time and disappeared round the corner.
Wharton Manor – The Following Evening
Robert made his way down from the coach, the sun still low in the sky despite the late hour. He subsequently strode purposefully into the entryway of the manor and, greeting the head butler, he offered, “Greetings, Smithers. I hope all is well with you.”
“Good evening, Master Robert,” Smithers replied, “All is well…at least, as well as can be expected.”
“Point taken,” Robert responded, “Where might I find the Earl?”
“He’s in the sitting room, sir, with Lady Sutherland. Shall I announce you?”
“No, I’m quite fine. I shall announce myself. After all, they are expecting me, are they not?”
“Yes sir, indeed they are.”
At this, Robert made his way to the sitting room. As he advanced he considered the history of that room, contemplating the many important issues that must surely have been resolved therein. While it was far from the most impressive room within the manor, it was easily the most serene, something that was not always easy to come by in such an imposing residence. He smiled grimly to himself, thinking that it was just the perfect setting for this rather somber occasion. Arriving therein, he found his parents solemnly awaiting his arrival.
Advancing reverently, Robert declared, “Father.”
Rising to greet him, the earl responded, “Robert! I trust your travel was not too taxing?”
“Not at all, sir,” he rejoined, then turned towards his mother’s awaiting arms and added joyously, “Mother, I’ve missed you so.”
Encircling him with a matronly embrace, his mother responded, “Dear me, you must be quite worn down, my dear. What time did you leave Edinburgh?”
“At seven this morning,” he responded.
“Dear me, Robert, we must allow you to get some rest!”
“I’m quite alright, mother. I slept a bit on the train,” and then, turning back to his father, he inquired, “What’s the latest news, sir?”
“It’s quite a mess, Son,” the Earl responded. “I am being recalled to active duty. I’ve only just been able to delay my departure, but I felt it important to be here for your return. I must report for duty in London in two days’ time.”
“Goodness, is it that dreadfully serious, sir?”
“I’m afraid so. You are to report to the Regiment at Portsmouth for training within forty-eight hours. You’re being assigned to the 28th. I’m sure that you will receive some training, as the 28th is a fighting unit. Thereafter, you will likely be posted to the front within two or three months’ time.”
“And where might that be, sir?”
“They’re calling it the Western Front for some reason, which makes little sense to me, since there is no other identifiable front at the moment. At any rate, I am informed by Headquarters that the expectation is that we shall go in along the northwestern part of the line, defending against the possibility of a flanking action by the Germans.”
“Flanking action?”
“Yes. The French have established an impregnable defensive l
ine along the German border, in Alsace and Lorraine. It was put in place after the Franco-Prussian War. Headquarters believes that the Germans have invaded Belgium in an attempt to go round the French defenses. If our strategists are correct, the Germans will attempt to push directly to the coast in either Belgium or Northern France, thereby simultaneously defeating the Belgians and cutting France off from the possibility of military support from Britain. We are therefore planning to establish a defensive position along the border between Belgium and France to forestall any such attempt by the Germans.”
“What is all this strategy based on? What evidence do we have that the Germans will attempt such a flanking action?”
“Not much, I’m afraid, but what we do know is that the Germans have amassed several divisions along the border between Belgium and Germany. Thus, in the interest of protecting our ally Belgium, we are expected to deploy there.”
“How do they know all of this, sir?”
“Good question. It seems that these new-fangled aeroplanes are being used to fly over enemy territory, thereby providing reconnaissance information for the allies. Darndest thing, who would have thought those flimsy contraptions would be of any use in a war!”
“Sounds quite dangerous, if you ask me, sir. It would seem that the forces on the ground could simply shoot them down with their rifles.”
“Right,” Lord Sutherland, responded. “Apparently, that has already been attempted, and we are told that if the aircraft fly quite low, they are nearly impossible to shoot down from the ground.”
“You don’t say! Well, sir, I believe that I would nonetheless prefer the safety of ground cover.”
At this Lady Sutherland interjected, “You may get your chance, son, and quite soon I’m afraid.”
“Yes, quite so,” Robert responded thoughtfully.
There was a momentary pause as all three contemplated the significance of Lady Sutherland’s last remark, Lord Sutherland subsequently offering, “Well, I suggest we all get a spot of rest. Tomorrow promises to be quite an eventful day.”
With that, the three made their separate ways, apprehension pervading their respective thoughts.
Portsmouth Harbor – September 5
Robert stepped from the military vehicle, in the process scanning the enormous battleship before him. As he approached the gangway, he experienced a dreadful sensation that with his first step aboard ship, his life would undergo an irrevocable transformation.
Mounting the stairs, he saluted the ship’s officer, announcing, “Lieutenant Robert Sutherland reporting. Request permission to come aboard, sir!”
“Permission granted,” the deck officer responded, and thrusting his hand forward, he said, “Welcome, Lieutenant. We’ve been awaiting your arrival. You’re the last to board. Accordingly, we’re about to get underway.”
“Sorry to delay you, sir,” Robert responded politely.
“Not a problem, we were forewarned. You appear to be some sort of very important person, lieutenant.”
“I doubt that very seriously, sir,” Robert replied with the tiniest of smiles, then inquired officiously, “Where might I find my commanding officer?”
“Below decks. Cabin 43A. Get some sleep, lieutenant. We’ll be making port in Le Havre by the time you’ve finished breakfast tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” Robert answered and, saluting yet again, he made his way below deck. He subsequently negotiated the labyrinthine passageways, all the while sensing that he had entered a new and daunting world.
Eventually arriving at the appointed cabin, he stepped briskly into the tiny room and, saluting smartly, he announced, “Lieutenant Sutherland reporting, Captain Brooke.”
Returning his salute, Captain Brooke responded, “Ah, I see you’ve finally arrived, Lieutenant Sutherland. We’ve been awaiting your arrival. I assume that you completed your assigned mission in London?”
“Yes, sir, I have transported orders from Headquarters for Battalion Commander Fitzpatrick.”
“Excellent. Give them to me, lieutenant. I shall see that Colonel Fitzpatrick receives them immediately. Welcome aboard. You are in Cabin 47B, just down the hall. Get some sleep, lieutenant. We shall be disembarking before you know it.”
“Where are we off to, sir, if I may be so bold?”
“Not sure myself. Probably whatever is within this envelope you’ve brought will shed some light on that question. But all in good time. The Germans have put on quite a show along the Marne River, east of Paris. They’ve pushed our lines well to the south, and now they’re knocking on the door to Paris at this very moment, which of course is why your training was cut short. We’re pouring troops into that area as rapidly as possible, so it appears likely we shall all be transported there on disembarking from Le Havre tomorrow. Tell your men to get some rest. It may be some time before they have the opportunity to sleep in a bed again.”
“Yes, sir,” Robert responded and, saluting sharply, he subsequently made his way to his cabin.
Le Havre Harbor – The Following Morning
Robert counted six ships within the harbor, all frantically unloading troops. “There must be five thousand troops unloading at this very moment,” he thought to himself. “This is enormous. I wonder if there has ever been a war such as this.” The enormity of it all gripped him with fear. How had this all come to war, and so amazingly fast? He was both dumbfounded and overwhelmed by it all. The thought suddenly struck him, “This might indeed escalate into the first global war in history. My God, it could be The First World War!” But somehow, the thought gave him little comfort.
Within half an hour his battalion was ordered to disembark. The long line of troops shortly began making their way to the docks, whereupon they were informed that there was no transport available at the moment. The battalion therefore remained on the docks for an hour awaiting orders, the troops milling about aimlessly.
While they did so, rumors circulated through the battalion of a great offensive, somewhere off to the east. Apparently, the French had broken through the German lines, with the help of the British, of course. Buoyed by this supposition, for supposition it clearly was, the troops fell into a boisterous disposition, somehow sensing that the war might well be shortly at an end. Many among the battalion, desperate to make their way to the front lines as quickly as possible, feared that their opportunity to become war heroes might have already slipped away.
Of course, it was all nothing more than rumor. Instead, orders came down to march to the train station, no transport vehicles having materialized. An hour later, the troops having endured a brisk two mile march, the battalion boarded a train for Paris. Eventually the train arrived in Paris, a city clearly in extreme turmoil over the approaching German Army.
After changing stations, they boarded a second train and were immediately transported to a small town named Fontainebleau, somewhere to the southeast of Paris. Someone said that this was the village where Napoleon had abdicated after Waterloo. The beauty of such a setting seemed incongruous within the context of an enormous war just to their north, but Robert couldn’t care less with history by this point. He simply focused on getting his troops into the line with the intention of getting on with it.
Nonetheless, for some reason there was no fighting, at least not right away, the battalion having been instructed to await further orders. On reporting to the incongruously placid Captain Brooke, Robert pressed impatiently, “Where are we headed to, sir?”
“We wait. For the moment, we wait,” Captain Brooke replied stoically. “There’s some sort of general attack underway north of here, and Headquarters is for the moment holding us back as reinforcements.”
As it turned out, they waited three long and trying days in Fontainebleau, nearly every soldier by then approaching mental exhaustion simply from anticipation-induced lack of sleep. Finally, on their fifth day out of Portsmouth, they were ordered to march to the front, which was by then about
thirty miles to their north. Given the poor conditions of the roadways, it took them two days, by which time the Battle of the Marne had drawn to a rather sluggish stalemate, but not before the Allies had succeeded in pushing the German Army back forty miles on the Western flank. The Allies had by then dashed the Germans plan of quickly taking Paris in an attempt to bring a swift end to the war. The Germans’ anticipated repeat of the Franco-Prussian War had for the Allies thankfully failed.
By September 12, the two massive armies had succeeded in killing or wounding nearly half a million soldiers. By then it was clear that it was a new kind of war that no one had ever seen before on this planet. The cost in human lives was so staggering that it forced commanders on both sides to withdraw into a defensive mode of entrenched warfare.
For their part, Robert Sutherland’s battalion had missed the entire engagement. Disappointed at having come so far and missed the battle, they were sent into the line to relieve exhausted forces who had led the Allied counterattack. Lieutenant Sutherland and his troops were now faced with the exhausting assignment of building fortifications for the Army’s impending entrenchment across the entire Western Front. And everywhere he and his men turned, there was only misery and the stench of death. Little did they know, an interminable winter – the harbinger of snow, ice, and massive mud-encased trenches - was shortly to be upon them.