1914 British Ace

by Griff Hosker

  “Bloody German stuck me with his pig sticker!”

  “Robbie, put a dressing on it.”

  I went to the door and peered out. The Uhlans were heading for the far side of the field. They had us surrounded. “How many Germans are on your side, Doddy?”

  “Forty or so!”

  “There are only twenty this side. Reload, then mount up and be ready to charge these twenty. Hold your fire until we are on top of them.”

  Caesar was still not breathing normally but I knew he would cope. I was not so sure about the other horses. “Robbie, keep your eye on Eddie.”

  “I’m alright sarge. It’s just a scratch!”

  I kicked Caesar on and the others followed. The Uhlans just charged in a line directly at us. They outnumbered us and they knew how hard it was to fire a gun from the back of a moving horse. I held the Lee Enfield in both hands. I aimed at the leading rider. I waited until the barrel was pointing down and fired. Caesar’s movement brought the barrel up and the bullet smashed a hole in the German’s horse’s head. As the animal fell the Uhlan was pitched forward. There was a sickening crunch as Caesar’s hoof shattered his skull. My second shot winged an Uhlan who dropped his lance and then I was through. I reined Caesar around. I saw one Uhlan about to spear Doddy in the back. I fired and the bullet cracked into his leg and he too dropped the lance. The rest were all through although I could see Robbie holding his arm. He had been wounded as well.

  We headed through the gate and found a road. The sun was lower in the sky and I led the patrol west to find the regiment. The Germans had had enough. There was no pursuit.

  Two miles down the road we halted to apply a field dressing to Robbie’s arm. “We were lucky there sarge. If they had had guns then we would have been dead.”

  “I know Robbie. I am just glad that the cavalry we have met have been lancers.”

  I had sent Doddy ahead to scout out the land before us. When he returned he shook his head. “No sign of the regiment.” He shrugged. “They could be anywhere.”

  “No they couldn’t. They have to head south and then east to reach the BEF. We will take the next road which goes south and then try to find one that goes south east.” As the patrol mounted I examined the map. We had changed directions so many times that I had no real idea of where we were. My best guess was that we were north of Amiens. If we couldn’t find the regiment then I would head there and wait.

  We heard guns as we found a road going southeast. From the signs I knew that it ended up at Amiens. “Keep your eyes peeled for any signs that our lads have passed down this road.”

  Suddenly we heard the sound of hooves coming along the road behind us. “Sarge, there are riders approaching!” Surely the Germans hadn’t picked up our trail again? Fortunately we had all reloaded and could use our awesome firepower if it was the Uhlans again.

  “About face and have your guns ready!”

  We wheeled our horses along the road and waited for whoever came thundering down the French road. To our relief it was Jack Lynch and the rest of the troop.

  Sergeant Armstrong had a grin on his face. “We heard the firing in the distance and wondered if it was you.” He noticed the bandaged troopers and said, “I see you were lucky again.”

  “Report, Sergeant Harsker.” The lieutenant’s whine snapped my head around.

  I saluted the lieutenant, “Sir! We ran into some Uhlans and some infantry. I decided not to head back to the brigade and we led them away. After a skirmish we lost them and made our way here.”

  He frowned, “If you had led them to the brigade we might have had a great victory.”

  I saw George roll his eyes as I continued. “The trouble was, sir, that we didn’t know how many infantry there were with them. It looked to be the same Uhlans we met the other day and that means they are Von Kluck’s Corps.”

  “Hm, well next time find the exact numbers. That is, after all, what a scout is supposed to do. I will report to the colonel. Carry on Sergeant Armstrong.”

  As he rode away George said, “What a waste of space he is. He hasn’t the first clue. You did the right thing and the major will agree with you.”

  “The trouble is, when you are out in front you have to make instant decisions. I don’t know if they are right or not.”

  “They are, so don’t worry about it.” He pointed down the road, “What about Amiens?”

  “We were heading there. As the Germans are behind us then perhaps it is still in our hands.”

  George looked at me, “You and your lads take it easy. The rest of the troop will scout. It’s time we shared it around.”

  “I don’t mind, George.”

  “I know but that doesn’t make it right. There are troops behind us who have done nothing but erect tents since we arrived here. Some of them don’t even know there is a war on.” He turned to his men, “Right then you lazy buggers, let’s see how this is done.”

  It felt strange to ride knowing that we would have warning of any trouble. When Lieutenant Ramsden reached us he asked, “Where is Sergeant Armstrong?”

  “Scouting sir. He said we deserved a rest.”

  “Hm, I think that should have been my decision.”

  Lieutenant Ramsden sounded so petty as he sulked that it was pathetic. I tried to keep the derision out of my voice when I said, “Well sir, you weren’t here so I think he took the decision himself.”

  I consciously kicked Caesar on and rode next to Robbie.. “How’s the arm?”

  “Just feels numb sarge. It was stupid really I should have leaned out of the way. I could see the lance heading for me. I was sort of frozen. I felt stupid when the blood flowed.”

  “I know. I had no idea I had been hit by the shrapnel either. I think we are all going to learn to be quick or we’ll soon be dead.”

  As night began to fall I wondered if the colonel would camp for the night. Luckily we reached the outskirts of Amiens before the decision was taken. We found Sergeant Armstrong having a cup of tea with a gun crew. The sergeant saluted, “Looks like we still hold Amiens, sir.”

  “Jolly good sergeant. Wait here and I’ll go and tell the colonel.”

  The artillery sergeant shook his head. “He looks like an arse licker to me.”

  George nodded, “He’s always keen to give the colonel any news he can.” He pointed to the east. “Seems like we have given the Hun a bloody nose yonder.”

  “Don’t count on any rest, pal. We will be falling back soon. There are thousands of Germans out there and they have much bigger guns than these pea shooters. You donkey wallopers are lucky; you can ride faster than their infantry can attack.”

  As if to emphasise the point there was a sudden screech and scream as a German gun hurled a shell over our heads to explode a mile or so closer to Amiens.

  “See what I mean? The bastards do that every so often. I bet they are laughing their heads off.”

  We waited until the colonel arrived. “Well done you lads. We have finally managed to reach our lines. I just hope that this is the last time we have to retreat.”

  Having spoken to the sergeant of artillery I was not too sure but we made our way to Amiens. The Military Police directed us to a field south of the town where we could erect our tents. It was not a perfect site but it was dry. As the war went on then mud began to play an increasing part. But on that last day of August the ground was dry and the weather was clement.

  The colonel went to a briefing with the local commander. The Griffin soon followed his return. The rest of the BEF were much further east and we were amongst the only British forces in the middle of the French Sixth Army. Our camp would, perforce, be a temporary one and we prepared to leave early the next day. There was a regiment of French Cuirassiers close to us and they looked to be a throwback to the days of knights. They had breastplates and metal helmets I wondered how they would cope with machine guns. That night we heard that our Cavalry Division, with the best cavalry in the country, had been defeated at Le Cateau. It did not bode
well for the future.

  We were awoken before dawn by an enemy barrage. We would not have a leisurely ride back to Field Marshal Sir John French. The whole of Von Kluck’s Corps was advancing towards Paris and we were in the way. It was fortunate that we had had much practice in taking down tents in a hurry. Once again we were chosen to be the scouts. We now had a nickname: the Forlorn Hope. As the only troop to have suffered casualties we took it as a badge of honour.

  We reached Néry on the 31st of August. We were exhausted and our mounts needed serious rest. We were running short of ammunition as well as other vital supplies. We were close enough to the General Headquarters at Dammartin, to be able to see the staff officers as they hurried in and out like so many busy, red hatted, worker ants. There did not seem to be a lot of order about their movements. To me they looked like ants when their nest is disturbed.

  We had not even had the chance to begin to erect the tents when we heard the fire of small arms. We had no idea where the enemy were but we assumed it was to the north of us. Colonel Mackenzie had had enough of retreating and he ordered the whole brigade north. Suddenly we saw a German Cavalry division; they were hurtling after the retreating British infantry who were trying to avoid the lances and sabres of the grey clad Germans. The General staff emerged from their building as though it was on fire. They leapt for their cars as the colonel ordered the charge against the Germans.

  It was not good country for cavalry but we had no choice, we had to fight where we could. I saw the colonel and many of the officers with their swords out. I turned to my men. “Use your guns! I think these Germans may be better swordsmen than we are.”

  Doddy and I took out our Lugers and checked they were ready to fire. I know that the rest of my men were all looking for the chance to get a pistol too. They had seen the effect they had.

  It was not the meeting of two mighty beasts but rather a chance encounter. We met the enemy piece meal. I slowed my men down as we approached the Germans. They were too busy trying to sabre the helpless, retreating foot sloggers. I aimed my rifle and began to fire at every grey uniform I could see. I was not as accurate as I would have been if stationary but my men and I caused enough disruption for the infantry to escape. When the Huns saw us they changed direction. My rifle empty, I took out the Luger and shot the first two surprised Germans who thought to make a pin cushion out of me.

  A rider approached from my left. As his sword swung down I leaned to my right and fired. The bullet smashed his hand and he fell screaming to the ground. My Luger was now empty and I had to, reluctantly, take my sword out. It was sharp and that was about it. I was not confident about its use. I glanced to my left and saw that George and the rest of the troop were also reduced to the use of a blade.

  The first German I fought obliged me by coming from my right. I knew I was not skilful but I was strong and I swung the sword overhand with all my might. The smaller German tried to parry but my blow was so hard that he fell backwards from his horse. The second German came at me from my left. I yanked on Caesar’s reins. I must have done so too hard for he reared a little and his hooves flailed the air before him. I am a good rider and I managed to shift my weight forward and keep my seat. The Hun was not so lucky. His horse tried to jerk out of the way and, as Caesar landed I slashed down with my blade and caught the German across the back. The blade was sharp and I saw blood on the edge as the rider fled the field.

  I heard recall and sighed with relief. This had been my first action in a real battle. As I looked down the line I saw that, although there were many dead Germans there were troopers lying dead and dying amongst them. The Germans had retreated and so we went amongst the dead and dying to offer assistance. Doddy and I took the opportunity of filching more ammunition whilst Tiny, Robbie and Jack manage to acquire guns of their own.

  Our troop had only suffered wounds but, as we continued south, towards the Marne we discovered that the rest of the regiment had lost fifteen men. I rode next to George. “Are all cavalry battles like that?”

  He shrugged, “That was my first one. In the Boer War we fought as mounted infantry. The South Africans preferred to hit and run. That is the first time I have had to use my sword.”

  “Me too and I didn’t enjoy it.” A thought suddenly struck me, “Where was the lieutenant in all this?”

  “Did you not see? His sling miraculously appeared and he stayed with the bugler just behind us.”

  The lieutenant had shed his sling some days earlier. I am not saying he was a coward but he didn’t like to risk his own life. I think that the war games he had played at University had given him a slightly distorted view of what battle would be like. For the ordinary lads, like me, we had no expectation; all we had was the belief that we were fighting for King and Country and that we would do our duty.

  Chapter 7

  We reached the Marne and finally stopped running. Doddy joked that any further south and we would be in Paris. For us Paris was exotic and filled with ladies who would promise much; it was every soldier’s dream to have leave in Paris. It did not materialise and our camp on the Marne was as close as we got. We did use the four day respite from battle well. We were able to feed, water and groom our mounts and restore them to some semblance of fitness. The Quartermaster acquired more ammunition for us. My scouts were already well stocked with German ammunition. We had learned that you could never have too many magazines nor too much ammunition. Doddy also managed to get us some bayonets. I didn’t ask where he got them but he and his brother were masters at scrounging. If the Germans were going to charge us with lances then I wanted something to poke them back with.

  On the 5th of September the colonel came back from his briefing at headquarters. For the first time in a month he actually looked happy. He saw me and waved me over; I wondered what I had done wrong. “Just thought I’d tell you Harsker, I mentioned you and the two Brown lads in despatches for your action the other day. I also singled you out as a potential candidate for officer training.”

  “Thank you sir.”

  “You deserve it.”

  When I told George he just nodded. “It’s a shame we only have the Victoria Cross. You should have had a medal for what you did. Still, a mention in despatches isn’t too bad.”

  We waited expectantly for the Squadron Sergeant to emerge from his meeting with the colonel. Something was definitely in the air. We waited in the mess tent talking of inconsequential matters. The troopers had all been complaining that they had had no letters from home yet.

  “They are all a bit upset, George.”

  “I can see that Bill but as we have been flitting around like a may fly it’s a bit hard to see how they could have found us let alone deliver the letters.” I knew he was right but for all of us this was the first time we had been away from home and it was hard.

  When Sergeant Ritchie entered he too was happy. He rubbed his hands together. “Well gentlemen, at last we get a chance to do what we have been trained for. We hit the enemy!” Everyone cheered. “We are acting as a detached brigade and we will be operating to the west of the French Sixth Army and the Cavalry Division. Our job is to probe for weaknesses. We are going to turn the German flank. There will be seventy thousand British soldiers in the attack and a lot more French soldiers. There will be no more retreat. We are going to drive them back to Germany.”

  Some wag shouted, “Next stop Berlin!”

  Everyone laughed and the Squadron Sergeant wagged his finger, “Just one step at a time Jimmy eh?” He unrolled a map and placed it on the blackboard. Using his swagger stick as an improvised pointer he took us through our roles. Each troop was given a sector and we were told to push forward until we met opposition and then send a message to Headquarters. The colonel would have a mobile headquarters and runners would then direct the troops to the weak points.

  As George and I checked the routes on the map I ventured. “The problem with this plan is finding where the colonel is.”

  “I know. We could be left with o
ur arses in the air if we can’t find him. Still we have managed so far and, for a change, it won’t be just us who are at the sharp end.”

  It would be another early start and I briefed my men about what to expect. They were not the rookies they had been a month ago. As I told them I saw them mentally checking off what they would need. We now knew that we needed as many weapons as we could conceivably manage. I even saw Doddy wearing an artilleryman’s leather vest below his tunic. When he saw me looking he grinned. “The fit of the uniform is bad so I can get away with it. The Germans are a bit handy with their swords for my liking. Let’s see them get through this!”

  I suppose the regulations would have frowned upon it but I wanted these men to survive the battle and, as far as I was concerned, they could use every means possible to do so. I checked Caesar before I turned in. He had recovered from the shrapnel and seemed not to have suffered unduly. I just hoped that we could avoid the artillery and machine guns. They cared nought for fine animals and heroic intentions.

  It was dark as we headed west. The lieutenant was happier than he had been on the previous patrols. He even rode ahead of us, which was a first. The rest of us were relying on those skills we had acquired since arriving in France. I knew that Caesar would alert me to anything out of the ordinary. His ears would come up and he would slow down. I, too, had learned to trust senses I had barely used in England.

  It was still dark as we headed to our allotted patrol. We were not going to use a road, because of our skills, we were going across country. I knew that it would be harder in the dark but, this way, we could close with the enemy under cover of night. The Germans, it seems, were trying to roll up our lines. The colonel had been ordered to strike at their vulnerable flank. It was what the cavalry were designed for. The French cavalry would be joining us and speed would be our best weapon. There would be no artillery barrage, at least not on the left flank of the advance. As we rode along I waited for the crackle of gunfire which would mark the start of the action.