The post of honour — Inside the Classic

the same moment the sepoy carrying the standard was struck to the ground with a blow from Roberts’ sword. As the man fell, the young officer deftly snatched the flag from his dying grasp. The other man dropped his musket and made off at full speed.

Once again Roberts put spurs to his horse to take a further share in the pursuit of the rebels. Some distance away he met with two more sepoys standing at bay, each armed with a musket to which a bayonet was fixed. Not only Roberts but the flag was once more in danger, for it was two against one and the native soldiers were very skilful with their weapons.

Roberts set his teeth and rode straight forward, sword in hand. His attack was so direct and furious that the two men were thrown off their guard. In a moment one of them lay stretched upon the ground and the other had joined once more in the quick retreat.

CAPTAIN GRENFELL AND THE CHARGE OF THE LANCERS

It was at Mons in Belgium that the British soldiers first met the Germans. They were outnumbered by three to one; and they were therefore forced to fall back till fresh troops could be brought up to their assistance.

But they put up a glorious fight as they fell slowly back to a better position for making an advance; and the story of Mons and afterwards is so full of accounts of brave deeds that it is not easy to choose from among them.

The name of Captain Grenfell, however, stands out boldly on the roll of honour; and the story of his winning of the Victoria Cross is one of the finest in the history of the British Army.

At half-past ten one morning, the Second British Cavalry Brigade received a welcome order. They were to “charge for the guns” as the Light Brigade had been ordered to do at Balaklava in the Crimean War. The order was received with the greatest glee, for the troopers had waited for three days listening to the roar of the guns but taking no part in the great fight.

The men were the 9th Lancers, 18th Hussars, and 4th Dragoons. On they rode, singing, shouting, cheering; but they had not ridden far before some of the riders dropped from their saddles while their horses galloped away. The rest set their teeth, gripped their lances more tightly and urged on their horses until the thunder of the iron-shod hoofs seemed to drown that of the German guns.

All at once, a merciless fire broke out from a number of machine-guns which had been cleverly hidden on their flank, about 150 yards away. The withering fire swept their close-set ranks and men and horses fell in scores; but there was no faltering among the rest. Onward they rode, careless of the ceaseless hail of bullets and of the shells which now burst round them from the heavy guns ahead.

At last they reached the German battery, and what happened there is thus described by a German soldier:--

“We were outside Mons in open country,” he said, “with a clump of hills before us, when a troop of howling, yelling men with lances came racing round a hill and then straight for us. Your artillery and your infantry, yes, they are like ourselves and we can fight them, but these lancers;--ach!

“We were four to one of them, but in a flash they were on us and through us! And there were not more than fifty of them. Every one of them speared a man--I got this in the shoulder--and some of our horses went over. Before we could re-form or get ready, they came dashing back, yelling like furies, and they went through us again. This time they stayed with us longer.... I will never meet them again, please you!”

The stern work was over, but the British cavalry had paid a heavy price to silence the German guns. The men who were left now looked about for cover, and soon found it behind a railway embankment; but they also found in this place a company of men of the Royal Field Artillery whose guns had been knocked out of action.

Captain Grenfell was among the surviving officers of the 9th Lancers, but he had been wounded in the thigh as well as in one hand. Weary and hurt as he was, the news that British guns were in danger of capture roused him to further efforts. Without a moment’s delay, he rode off into the fire zone to make observations.

Having satisfied himself that the guns could be drawn off he came back--at a slow pace, in order to give courage to his men. Then he asked for volunteers for the job, and got them too, for British soldiers always answer to the call to “save the guns.” “It’s all right,” he said simply, “they can’t hit us. Come along!”

The men loosed their horses and followed the captain on foot. In a few minutes they set off at the double heedless of the flying bullets and bursting shells, and came at last to the first guns which they quickly hauled out of danger. They went back again and again until all the precious guns were safe.

It was for his bravery on this day that Captain Grenfell was awarded the Victoria Cross--one of the first to be awarded in the Great War. At a later period of the war he was killed in action.

BRITISH SAILORS WHO KNEW HOW TO DIE

The British Navy suffered several heavy losses during the early stages of the war. Off the Isle of May in the Firth of Forth the _Pathfinder_ was cruising about when an enemy submarine came along, a torpedo was launched, and the cruiser was struck and sank with great loss of life. The men who were afterwards picked up had then been in the water for more than an hour. About a week later, however, the British submarine E9 gave blow for blow by sinking a German cruiser about six miles from Heligoland.

When the _Pathfinder_ was struck the order was given, “Every man for himself.” In a few moments the water was full of struggling swimmers. One petty officer was a very strong swimmer and did all he could to help others who were not so strong as himself.

As soon as he found himself in the water he swam about among his mates helping them to lay hold of spars and pieces of wreckage. In time he got together a group of eleven men and kept cheering them up and making them as secure as he could. Some of them had only their heads and shoulders above the water; and four of them sank while trying to raise themselves to get a better hold.

Meanwhile several boats were racing across the water to pick up the exhausted men. When they came up, the poor fellows had to be dragged on board; and even the hardy and heroic petty officer was too much spent to help himself.

Only a few days passed and our Navy suffered a still heavier loss. The three cruisers _Aboukir_, _Hogue_, and _Cressy_ were on patrol work in the North Sea and were steaming along three miles apart, through a choppy sea. All at once the first cruiser was seen to reel and then settle down sideways. She had been struck by a torpedo.

The _Cressy_ and the _Hogue_ immediately closed in to save life while the men on the sinking ship tried to lower one of their boats. But they were not able to do so, and they ran or slid over the hull of the vessel into the water.

Just as the _Aboukir_ was heeling over, the _Hogue_ was struck in two places. The great ship reared up in the water like a charger upon its hind legs, and quivered all over. Then she settled down, and sank in a few minutes, leaving the greater part of her crew in the water. But, strangely enough, as she went down, she righted herself, and two of her boats becoming detached, floated from her. The boats were soon filled and were the means of saving many lives.

It was now the turn of the _Cressy_, which had come up and was standing by for rescue work. She was struck by two torpedoes and sank almost at once. Two Dutch ships and a British trawler picked up as many men as they could crowd on board and made for the English coast. The total loss on the ships was 1500 men.

Even in this terrible disaster, the men of the British Navy were “ready, aye ready” when all that was now asked of them was that they should die like heroes.

SOME OF THE FIRST V.C.’S

When the Great War broke out in August 1914 the Victoria Cross had not been conferred for ten years. But it was not long before the newspapers began to report one deed after another of “signal valour and devotion performed in the presence of the enemy.”

The heroic spirit of the British Army and Navy was as strong as ever; and, of course, the greatness of the struggle gave our men more chances of performing deeds of heroism than they had ever had before.

During the first five months of the war, twenty-eight Crosses were awarded; this was a large number, for the Cross is never given without a great deal of careful consideration. One hundred were awarded during the first eighteen months. Let us see how some of these first Crosses were won, and how the earlier fighters set the example to all the rest.

In a military retreat or “withdrawal” it is important to place as many obstacles as possible in the path of the foe; and as soon as bridges have been safely crossed they must be destroyed.

It will readily be seen that the engineers who carry out this work of destruction have a very dangerous task to perform. They are the last men to leave the scene of action, and their destructive work holds up the pursuit.

In an advance the engineers go first, in a retreat they stay last; so that, on the whole, this “arm” of the forces is always in the post of danger, which is the post of honour.

Near the end of the first month of the war, Lance-Corporal Jarvis of the Royal Engineers won the V.C. for a piece of work which was carried out under a persistent and steady fire. He went out alone in a boat on the River Jemmapes, and worked steadily for an hour and a half in fixing and firing charges for the destruction of a bridge.

The bullets whistled about his ears, and the shells burst all round him on the bridge and below it; but the brave fellow worked coolly on until his task was finished--and properly finished too--and then got away unharmed. His devotion to duty had been of great value to his own side in a way which does not need further explanation.

The L Battery of the Royal Horse Artillery is now known all over the world for its gallant stand at the beginning of September 1914.

Field-guns and machine-guns were pounding away at this battery at a range of no more than 600 yards. All the officers fell, dead or wounded, and the men looked round for directions. Then Sergeant-Major Dorrell took charge of one gun and continued to serve it steadily until all the ammunition was used up.

Sergeant Nelson took command of another, and although severely wounded, kept grimly to his task until the shells had all been fired, when the shattered battery was relieved. Its steadiness had been of the greatest use in the engagement; and the two men who had thus proved their right to lead were not only given the V.C. but were made commissioned officers.

About a fortnight later, Bombardier Horlock of the Royal Field Artillery won the Cross by a wonderful display of fortitude, persistence, and a kind of disobedience a little akin to that of Lord Nelson at Copenhagen. His battery had not been long in action when a shell burst under his gun and he was wounded in the right thigh. He was told to go to the hospital, but went first to a dressing-station where he was bandaged and sent on to the rear. But he went back to the battery and five minutes later was hit again.

For a second time he came before the doctor, was given first-aid, and was then placed in charge of an orderly who was told to take him to the field-hospital farther back. On the way Horlock told his companion that there were many poor fellows who needed help much more than he did, and that he could find his way alone with perfect ease.

The orderly fell into the trap, and no sooner had he gone out of sight than Horlock limped back again to his battery and went on serving his gun. A little later, he was wounded in the arm, but, brave as he was, did not dare to face the doctor for the third time. He stayed with his comrades until the end of the day, and was at last picked up and taken to hospital.

Drummer Bent of the East Lancashires was the kind of soldier who is “good at need,” ready for any job which comes his way, and the more dangerous the work the better worth doing. The man who brings up the ammunition to the firing line seems to be merely a kind of porter; but when his work is carefully considered he is easily seen to be very important indeed. And when he does that work in the open under heavy fire without the excitement of taking a hand in the fighting, he is surely among the bravest of the brave. And this was the kind of work which first drew attention to Drummer Bent, who was only twenty-two years of age.

Having learnt that the oft-repeated sentence “every bullet has its billet” is merely a silly saying, Bent was quite ready to face fire on another occasion. Several wounded men were lying in the open and he went out to bring some of them under cover. This heroic action alone was worthy of the highest reward, for it showed that disregard of self which is the root of all true heroism; but Bent was to do still more than this.

One dark night in November, a portion of his regiment was holding a certain position of some importance. The enemy made a fierce attack and the three officers in charge were struck down. Then Bent took command and, under his cool direction, the position was held until relief came. The young soldier had nobly earned the Cross which he afterwards received.

You will remember how Indian troops came to the help of Britain in the Great War and how some of them fought very bravely in Northern France. It is said that there was great rejoicing in India when news reached that country that two of the native soldiers had won the Victoria Cross.

These were Naik (_i.e._ Corporal) Darwan Sing Negi and Sepoy Khudadad, who were the first soldiers of India to receive the highest military honour that it was in the power of their Emperor to grant.

Naik Darwan Sing Negi was in action one night in late November near Festubert in France. Certain trenches had been taken by the enemy and his regiment was given the task of recapturing them. This was a very difficult piece of work, for it meant hand-to-hand bayonet fighting in narrow passages half filled with water, where a fighter had little elbow-room and, if he went first in an attack, could get very little help from his comrades.

The Garhwal Rifles, to which the Corporal belonged, rushed to the attack with fierce shouts and flashing eyes. Darwan Sing Negi was wounded more than once, but he stuck to his work with grim valour, fighting his way foot by foot along the narrow passages, and striking terror into the hearts of his enemies.

When the stern work had been well done, the company fell in and it was found that the Corporal was very badly wounded; but he received his reward a little later at the hands of King George himself, who first visited the British lines in December 1914.

Sepoy Khudadad was fighting in Belgium and was one of a machine-gun section which was told off to support the 5th Lancers. The place in which he fought was heavily bombarded by the enemy and the machine-gun company suffered greatly. In a short time one of their two guns was put out of action.

The six men who manned the second gun fought with splendid bravery until the Germans rushed the position in great numbers and struck down five of them. Sepoy Khudadad saw his chance to escape, but stayed behind for a time in order to make his gun useless before it fell into the hands of the enemy. Then he slipped away to a place of safety, to the great surprise of the Germans, each of whom probably thought that some one else had secured him! He was, however, very badly wounded; and when King George came over to France the Indian hero was too ill to receive at his hands the Cross which was afterwards given to him in London.

THE SPIRIT OF SIR PHILIP SIDNEY

The old story of Sir Philip Sidney might well be written in letters of gold upon the wall of every school in the Empire. It will be remembered that he fought at Zutphen in Eastern Holland during the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and that he was mortally wounded in the thigh with a musket-ball. The immortal tale is told in the following words by his friend, Fulke Greville:--

“Being thirsty with excess of bleeding, he called for drink which was presently brought him; but as he was putting the bottle to his mouth, he saw a poor soldier carried along, who had eaten his last at the same feast, casting up his eyes at the bottle. Which Sir Philip perceiving, took it from his head before he drank, and delivered it to the poor man with these words, ‘Thy necessity is yet greater than mine.’”

Over and over again the brave fighters on the Western Front showed that the spirit of Sir Philip Sidney still lived and that it survived under conditions of horror and misery such as no soldier of Queen Elizabeth ever saw. Discipline and self-denial showed themselves in situations where the most severe judge might well forgive a man for thinking only of himself and his pressing and immediate needs. Here is one incident of the retirement from Mons.

Major Fawcett was in charge of two ambulance wagons and a water-cart, and saw with pity and anxiety that the poor wounded soldiers were suffering untold agonies owing to their long ride over rough and uneven ground. He therefore made up his mind to call a halt in order that the men might be refreshed with some beef-tea. The wagons were drawn up by the wayside, and the Major rode ahead to find some cottage or farm where the water might be boiled.

A few minutes after he disappeared from sight, a company of infantry came along. The men were weary, footsore, thirsty, and indescribably dirty; and as soon as they saw the water-carts drawn up by the side of the road, they crowded round them eager to quench their burning thirst.

Then an officer rode up to them and explained the situation. He said that there was very little water left in the carts and that it was badly needed for the wounded men in the two ambulances.

“I am thirsty myself,” he said, “and I’m awfully sorry for you fellows, but you see how it is; the wounded must come first.”

The reply was worthy of Sir Philip Sidney: “Quite right, sir; we didn’t know it was a hospital water-cart.” Then the thirsty men turned away and went on with their march.