In the Russian Ranks: A Soldier's Account of the Fighting in PolandMorse, John
History
In the Russian Ranks: A Soldier's Account of the Fighting in Poland
Morse, John
World War, 1914-1918 -- Campaigns -- Poland; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, British
We rode on several hours, and I wondered that the town of Ostrolenka did
not appear in sight. It was vexatious that I could not question my
companion. My first suspicion that he had taken the wrong road was
aroused by his stopping to call to a man in the fields. The replies he
got were evidently not satisfactory; and he seemed to be at a loss to
know what course to pursue. After a further consultation with the man,
and much pointing and gesticulation, the trooper took a branch road. I
was very loth to follow this, but could not make the man understand my
meaning; and I really did not know which way to turn myself. I was
compelled, in a way, to follow him.
We had ridden along the fresh road about six versts when, on rounding a
small wood, we saw a weak squadron of Uhlans in front of us, and not
more than 300 yards away. They perceived us too, and shouted an order
for us to halt. I turned on the instant, and put the wood between myself
and the enemy, but there was nowhere to go except along the road, or
across the open fields.
Cavalry now carry rifles, not carbines, and the seventy men behind us
would almost certainly shoot us down at short range. I thought I should
prefer that fate to lingering in a German prison, subjected to the
arrogance and brutality of Hun gaolers; and so I put spurs to my horse,
and forced him to his utmost pace. In a few minutes I looked back,
anxiously. The Uhlans were in full cry after us. The trooper was twenty
yards behind me, urging on his horse.
What to do I did not know. At one moment I thought to return to the
house where we had passed the night; but a moment's reflection convinced
me of the folly of doing this. It could not possibly save us, and would
most certainly lead to the destruction of persons who had been friendly
to us.
We were better mounted than the majority of the Uhlans, and gradually
gained ground away from them. Seeing this they tried shooting; but it is
difficult to hit even a large mark when going at a gallop; and after
wasting fifty or sixty cartridges they gave it up, and about a dozen of
their best mounted men pushed to the front; and I soon saw that we had
much to fear from them. We could not get away from them, and they began
to gain on us.
Then I perceived a low ridge of ground which was not so marshy as the
fields, and dashed across it, the trooper following my lead. The Uhlans
also came on with unabated speed, and I saw that it was a question of
horse-endurance.
Ahead, a black smoke, slowly curling upwards, was, I thought, the place
we had seen burning the previous night. We seemed to be going directly
towards it; and I feared that there might be more Germans directly in
front of us, or that the road might be blocked and impassable.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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