The Red Glutton: With the German Army at the FrontCobb, Irvin S. (Irvin Shrewsbury)
History
The Red Glutton: With the German Army at the Front
Cobb, Irvin S. (Irvin Shrewsbury)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Campaigns -- Western Front; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives
At that a noncommissioned officer--a big man with a neck on him like
a bison and a red, broad, menacing face--turned in his saddle and
dropped the muzzle of his black automatic on them. They sucked their
hisses back down their frightened gullets so swiftly that the exertion
well-nigh choked them, and shrank flat against the wall; and, for all
the sound that came from them until he had holstered his hardware and
trotted on, they might have been dead men and women.
Just then, from perhaps half a mile on ahead, a sharp clatter of rifle
fire sounded--pop! pop! pop!--and then a rattling volley. We saw the
Uhlans snatch out their carbines and gallop forward past the battery
into the dust curtain. And as it swallowed them up we, who had come in
a taxicab looking for the war, knew that we had found it; and knew,
too, that our chances of ever seeing that taxicab again were most
exceeding small.
We had one hope--that this might merely be a reconnoissance in force,
and that when it turned back or turned aside we might yet slip through
and make for Brussels afoot. But it was no reconnoissance--it was
Germany up and moving. We stayed in Louvain three days, and for three
days we watched the streaming past of the biggest army we had ever
seen, and the biggest army beleaguered Belgium had ever seen, and one
of the biggest, most perfect armies the world has ever seen. We watched
the gray-clad columns pass until the mind grew numb at the prospect
of computing their number. To think of trying to count them was like
trying to count the leaves on a tree or the pebbles on a path.
They came and came, and kept on coming, and their iron-shod feet
flailed the earth to powder, and there was no end to them.
CHAPTER III
SHERMAN SAID IT
Undoubtedly Sherman said it. This is my text and as illustration for my
text I take the case of the town of La Buissière.
The Germans took the town of La Buissière after stiff fighting on
August twenty-fourth. I imagine that possibly there was a line in the
dispatches telling of the fight there; but at that I doubt it, because
on that same date a few miles away a real battle was raging between the
English rear guard, under Sir John French, of the retreating army of
the Allies, falling back into France, and the Germans. Besides, in the
sum total of this war the fall of La Buissière hardly counts. You might
say it represents a semicolon in the story of the campaign. Probably
no future historian will give it so much as a paragraph. In our own
Civil War it would have been worth a page in the records anyway. Here
upward of three hundred men on both sides were killed and wounded,
and as many more Frenchmen were captured; and the town, when taken,
gave the winners the control of the river Sambre for many miles east
and west. Here, also, was a German charge with bayonets up a steep and
well-defended height; and after that a hand-to-hand mêlée with the
French defenders on the poll of the hill.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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