The German Fury in Belgium: Experiences of a Netherland Journalist during four months with the German Army in BelgiumMokveld, L. (Lambertus)
History
The German Fury in Belgium: Experiences of a Netherland Journalist during four months with the German Army in Belgium
Mokveld, L. (Lambertus)
Belgium -- History -- German occupation, 1914-1918; World War, 1914-1918 -- Atrocities
It was a cruel sight. At a tolerably quick pace hundreds of soldiers
marched out in the direction of the fort, dragging light ordnance with
them. One of the officers explained to me that the big guns could not
yet operate here; and now a division of foot-artillery was commanded to
occupy a small hill near the fort. The big guns had to support them on
the way. The guns roared as if all the thunderbolts of heaven had been
flung into space. The smoke of the powder poisoned the air and made me
cough. Gradually my surroundings were enveloped in a thin haze, which
became denser and more suffocating the longer the guns roared. And
at last those hundreds of men, dragging their guns along the byways,
looked merely like shades.
For quite a quarter of an hour they seemed to proceed successfully, as
obviously not one shell exploded in their neighbourhood. But suddenly
all along their line dark masses several yards high rose up. This
was the effect of numerous exceedingly well-aimed shells on the dry,
loose sand. Soon the men were surrounded by those thick clouds of
dust, and only during the first few minutes I saw here and there one
of those shades in human form tumble down, evidently hit by one of the
projectiles. Then I saw nothing for a long while, excepting the thick
wall of dust, which seemed to remain standing up, for constantly the
shells threw up anew the earth that had only just fallen down.
The dust-wall extended gradually as the distance grew covered by the
Germans in their flight to their former positions. But at last we saw
the first men emerge in complete disorder from that driving cloud.
Some on the right, others on the left, here and there also small
groups which courageously dragged their guns with them, as they saved
themselves from that infernal downpour.
Five minutes later the smoke had disappeared almost, and I was able to
see what had happened on the field in front of me. Terrible! On all
sides lay scattered the lads, who but a short time ago started with
so much enthusiasm, and here and there a gun knocked over, five, six
corpses lying around it.
In front of me, behind me, on all sides, the guns boomed, clouds of
dust and smoke filled the air, making it impossible to see much, which
made the awe and terror endurable; but after the air became clear
again, and the sun shed glowing light on the beautiful fields, it was
terrible to think that all those dots in the plain were the bodies of
young men, cruelly crushed by the infernal products of human ingenuity.
It was agony to see here and there a body rising up, merely to fall
down again immediately, or an arm waving as if invoking help.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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