Belgium -- History -- German occupation, 1914-1918
Already many of us were impatient at having to wait longer before
marching to the front; we heard the growling thunder of the
howitzers of the great fortress near the frontier, around which
there had been violent fighting these last few days; we were told
of cruelties that made our hair stand on end, committed, in its
fury, by a people which had for years been excited against us deeds
of cruelty committed against our compatriots, soldiers, civilians,
women and children, because of our violation of a neutrality which
it had itself violated a thousand times over in advance. On our
side we were boiling inwardly to avenge these infamies.... We
breathed more freely only when, in our march beyond the frontier,
we saw the first houses burned in reprisal; a curé, who had
revolted, was hanging from a tree in a neighbouring thicket,
swinging at the will of the wind, when at last the noise of battle
grew plainer....
(They arrive near Charleroi.)
The head of one regiment, led by my friend Lieutenant S----,
trotted forward again, and seized as hostages what civilians it
could catch; some 12 to 16 persons, old and young, fat and thin,
had to march before or between the lancers; more, this portion of
the regiment had received the order from its comrades not to ride
too far ahead.
Something that alarmed me quite particularly, giving me a
presentiment of misfortune, was the fact that the wives of these
civilians burst into weeping: one red-headed woman, frantic, threw
herself down in the road and gave vent to wild screams; others,
behind us, their emaciated arms stretched in the air, threatened
us, although they were several times assured that so long as
nothing was done to us nothing would happen to their husbands,
sons, friends, and lovers. All these significant scenes took place
in the side streets....
(A volley is fired from a barricade--or a railway crossing the
street; it is not clear which.)
I saw two or three cavalrymen fall back in front, and with them
the hostages fell to the ground; my friend was standing, near his
horse. A violent and rapid fire alternated with volleys; we could
not escape on either side; naturally we immediately faced about and
returned in the direction whence we had come; there was a furious
pursuit along the uneven road, with the balls whistling at our
backs. The horses fell, one after another....
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account