https://wwi.lib.byu.edu/index.php?title=XI_MARCHING_TO_THE_BATTLE_OF_THE_MARNE---INTO_THE_TRAP&feed=atom&action=historyXI MARCHING TO THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE---INTO THE TRAP - Revision history2024-03-28T08:29:51ZRevision history for this page on the wikiMediaWiki 1.39.4https://wwi.lib.byu.edu/index.php?title=XI_MARCHING_TO_THE_BATTLE_OF_THE_MARNE---INTO_THE_TRAP&diff=8459&oldid=prevBkimberl at 18:41, 13 July 20092009-07-13T18:41:19Z<p></p>
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<tr><td class="diff-marker" data-marker="−"></td><td style="color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #ffe49c; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div> </div></td><td class="diff-marker" data-marker="+"></td><td style="color: #202122; font-size: 88%; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 4px; border-radius: 0.33em; border-color: #a3d3ff; vertical-align: top; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div><ins style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;"><p align="right"> </ins>[[<ins style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Main_Page | WWI Document Archive ]] > [[Diaries, Memorials, Personal Reminiscences]] > [[A German Deserter's War Experience]] > '''XI MARCHING TO THE BATTLE OF </ins>THE MARNE---<ins style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">INTO </ins>THE <ins style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">TRAP</ins>''' <ins style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;"></p><hr></ins></div></td></tr>
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</table>Bkimberlhttps://wwi.lib.byu.edu/index.php?title=XI_MARCHING_TO_THE_BATTLE_OF_THE_MARNE---INTO_THE_TRAP&diff=5885&oldid=prevHirgen at 04:49, 31 October 20082008-10-31T04:49:53Z<p></p>
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</table>Hirgenhttps://wwi.lib.byu.edu/index.php?title=XI_MARCHING_TO_THE_BATTLE_OF_THE_MARNE---INTO_THE_TRAP&diff=5562&oldid=prevHirgen at 01:49, 2 September 20082008-09-02T01:49:01Z<p></p>
<p><b>New page</b></p><div><CENTER><FONT SIZE="+3"></FONT><FONT SIZE="+3">XI</FONT><FONT SIZE="+2"></FONT><BR><BR><br />
<br />
<FONT SIZE="+2">MARCHING TO THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE<BR> ---INTO THE TRAP</FONT><BR><BR></CENTER><br />
<br />
<BR><BR>A LARGE proportion of the &quot;gentlemen,&quot; our officers,<br />
regarded war as a pleasant change to their enchanting social life<br />
in the garrison towns, and knew exactly (at least as far as the<br />
officers of my company were concerned) how to preserve their lives<br />
as long as possible &quot;in the interest of the Fatherland.&quot;<br />
When I buried the hatchet, fourteen months after, our company<br />
had lost three times its original strength, but no fresh supply<br />
of officers had as yet become necessary; we had not lost a single<br />
officer. In Holland I got to know, some months later, that after<br />
having taken my &quot;leave&quot; they were still very well preserved.<br />
One day at Rotterdam, I saw a photo in the magazine, <I>Die Woche,<br />
</I>showing &quot;Six members of the 1st. Company of the Sapper<br />
Regiment No. 30 with the Iron Cross of the 1st. Class.&quot; The<br />
picture had been taken at the front, and showed the five officers<br />
and Corporal Bock with the Iron Cross of the 1st. Class. Unfortunately<br />
Scherl [<I>Note</I>: A proprietor of many German sensational newspapers.]<br />
did not betray whether those gentlemen had got the distinction<br />
for having preserved their lives for further service.<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>We spent the following night at the place, and then had to<br />
camp again in the open, &quot;because the place swarmed with franctireurs.&quot;<br />
In reality no franctireurs could be observed, so that it was quite<br />
clear to us that it was merely an attempt to arouse again our<br />
resentment against the enemy which was dying down. They knew very<br />
well that a soldier is far more tractable and pliant when animated<br />
by hatred against the &quot;enemy.&quot;<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>The next day Ch&acirc;lons-sur-Marne was indicated as the next<br />
goal of our march. That day was one of the most fatiguing we experienced.<br />
Early in the morning already, when we started, the sun was sending<br />
down its fiery shafts. Suippes is about 21 miles distant. from<br />
Ch&acirc;lons-sur-Marne. The distance would not have been the<br />
worst thing, in spite of the heat. We had marched longer distances<br />
before. But that splendid road from Suippes to Ch&acirc;lons does<br />
not deviate an inch to the right or left, so that the straight,<br />
almost endless seeming road lies before one like an immense white<br />
snake. However far we marched that white ribbon showed no ending,<br />
and when one looked round, the view was exactly the same. During<br />
the whole march we only passed one little village; otherwise all<br />
was bare and uncultivated.<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>Many of us fainted or got a heat-stroke and had to be taken<br />
along by the following transport column. We could see by the many<br />
dead soldiers, French and German, whose corpses were lying about<br />
all along the road, that the troops who had passed here before<br />
us had met with a still worse fate.<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>We had finished half of our march without being allowed to<br />
take a rest. I suppose the &quot;old man&quot; was afraid the<br />
machine could not be set going again if once our section had got<br />
a chance to rest their tired limbs on the ground, and thus we<br />
crawled along dispirited like a lot of snails, carrying the leaden<br />
weight of the &quot;monkey&quot; in the place of a house. The<br />
monotony of the march was only somewhat relieved when we reached<br />
the immense camp of Ch&acirc;lons. It is one of the greatest military<br />
camps in France. Towards three o'clock in the afternoon we beheld<br />
Ch&acirc;lons in the distance, and when we halted towards four<br />
o'clock in an orchard outside the town, all of us, without an<br />
exception, fell down exhausted.<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>The field kitchen, too, arrived, but nobody stirred for a time<br />
to fetch food. We ate later on, and then desired to go to the<br />
town to buy several things, chiefly, I daresay, tobacco which<br />
we missed terribly. Nobody was allowed however, to leave camp.<br />
We were told that it was strictly forbidden to enter the town.<br />
Ch&acirc;lons, so the tale went, had paid a war contribution,<br />
and nobody could enter the town. With money you can do everything,<br />
even in war. Mammon had saved Ch&acirc;lons from pillage.<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>Far away could be heard the muffled roar of the guns. We had<br />
the presentiment that our rest would not he of long duration.<br />
The rolling of the gun firing became louder and louder, but we<br />
did not know yet that a battle had started here that should turn<br />
out a very unfortunate one for the Germans---the five days' battle<br />
of the Marne.<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>At midnight we were aroused by an alarm, and half an hour later<br />
we were on the move already. The cool air of the night refreshed<br />
us, and we got along fairly rapidly in spite of our exhaustion.<br />
At about four o'clock in the morning we reached the village of<br />
Chepy. ,At that place friend Mammon had evidently not been so<br />
merciful as at Ch&acirc;lons, for Chepy had been thoroughly sacked.<br />
We rested for a short time, and noticed with a rapid glance that<br />
preparations were just being made to shoot two franctireurs. They<br />
were little peasants who were alleged to have hidden from the<br />
Germans a French machine-gun and its crew. The sentence was carried<br />
out. One was never at a loss in finding reasons for a verdict.<br />
And the population had been shown who their &quot;master&quot;<br />
was.<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>The little village of Pogny half-way between Ch&acirc;lons-sur-Marne<br />
and Vitry-le-Fran&ccedil;ois, had fared no better than Chepy,<br />
as we observed when we entered it at nine o'clock in the morning.<br />
We had now got considerably nearer to the roaring guns. The slightly<br />
wounded who were coming back and the men of the ammunition columns<br />
told us that a terrible battle was raging to the west of Vitry-le-Fran&ccedil;ois.<br />
At four o'clock in the afternoon we reached Vitry-le-Fran&ccedil;ois,<br />
after a veritable forced march. The whole town was crowded with<br />
wounded; every building, church, and school was full of wounded<br />
soldiers. The town itself was not damaged.<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>Here things must have looked very bad for the Germans for,<br />
without allowing us a respite, we were ordered to enter the battle<br />
to the west of Vitry-le-Fran&ccedil;ois. We had approached the<br />
firing line a little more than two miles when we got within reach<br />
of the enemy's curtain of fire. A terrific hail of shells was<br />
ploughing up every foot of ground. Thousands of corpses of German<br />
soldiers were witnesses of the immense losses the Germans had<br />
suffered in bringing up all available reserves. The French tried<br />
their utmost to prevent the Germans from bringing in their reserves,<br />
and increased their artillery fire to an unheard-of violence.<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>It seemed impossible for us to break through that barricade<br />
of fire. Hundreds of shells were bursting very minute. We were<br />
ordered to pass that hell singly and at a running pace. We were<br />
lying on the ground and observed how the first of our men tried<br />
to get through. Some ran forward like mad, not heeding the shells<br />
that were bursting around them, and got through. Others were entirely<br />
buried by the dirt dug up by the shells or were torn to pieces<br />
by shell splinters. Two men had scarcely reached the line when<br />
they were struck by a bull's-eye, i. e., the heavy shell exploded<br />
at their feet leaving nothing of them.<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>Who can imagine what we were feeling during those harrowing<br />
minutes as we lay crouching on the ground not quite a hundred<br />
feet away, seeing everything, and only waiting for our turn to<br />
come? One had entangled oneself in a maze of thoughts. Suddenly<br />
one of the officers would cry, &quot;The next one!&quot; That<br />
was I! Just as if roused out of a bad dream, I jump up and race<br />
away like mad, holding the rifle in my right hand and the bayonet<br />
in my left. I jumped aside a few steps in front of two bursting<br />
shells and run into two others which are bursting at the same<br />
time. I leap back several times, run forward again, race about<br />
wildly to find a gap through which to escape. But---fire and iron<br />
everywhere. Like a hunted beast one seeks some opening to save<br />
oneself. Hell is in front of me and behind me the officer's revolver,<br />
kept ready to shoot. The lumps of steel fall down like a heavy<br />
shower from high above. Hell and damnation! I blindly run and<br />
run and run, until somebody gets me by my coat. &quot;We're there!&quot;<br />
somebody roars into my ear. &quot;Stop! Are you wounded? Have<br />
a look; perhaps you are and don't know it?&quot; Here I am trembling<br />
all over. &quot;Sit down; you will feel better; we trembled too.&quot;<br />
Slowly I became more quiet. One after the other arrived; many<br />
were wounded. We were about forty when the sergeants took over<br />
the command. Nothing was again to be seen of the officers.<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>We proceeded and passed several German batteries. Many had<br />
suffered great losses. The crews were lying dead or wounded around<br />
their demolished guns. Others again could not fire as they had<br />
no more ammunition. We rested. Some men of the artillery who had<br />
&quot; nothing to do&quot; for lack of ammunition came up to us.<br />
A sergeant asked why they did not fire. &quot;Because we have<br />
used up all our ammunition,&quot; a gunner replied. &quot;0 yes,<br />
it would be quite impossible to bring up ammunition through that<br />
curtain of fire.&quot; &quot;It's not that,&quot; announced the<br />
gunner; &quot;it's because there isn't any more that they can't<br />
bring it up! &quot; And then he went on: &quot;We started at Neufch&acirc;teau<br />
to drive the French before us like hunted beasts; we rushed headlong<br />
after them like savages. Men and beasts were used up in the heat;<br />
all the destroyed railroads and means of transportation could<br />
not be repaired in those few days; everything was left in the<br />
condition we found it; and in a wild intoxication of victory we<br />
ventured to penetrate into the heart of France. We rushed on without<br />
thinking or caring, all the lines of communication in our rear<br />
were interrupted---we confidently marched into the traps the French<br />
set for us. Before the first ammunition and the other accessories,<br />
which had all to be transported by wagon, have reached us we shall<br />
be all done for.&quot;<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>Up to that time we had had blind confidence in the invincible<br />
strategy of our &quot;Great General Staff,&quot; and now they<br />
told us this. We simply did not believe it. And yet it struck<br />
us that the French (as was made clear by everything around us)<br />
were in their own country, in the closest proximity of their largest<br />
depot, Paris, and were in possession of excellent railroad communications.<br />
The French were, besides, maintaining a terrible artillery fire<br />
with guns of such a large size as had never yet been used by them.<br />
All that led to the conclusion that they had taken up positions<br />
prepared long before, and that the French guns had been placed<br />
in such a manner that we could not reach them.<br />
<br />
<BR><BR>In spite of all we continued to believe that the gunner had<br />
seen things in too dark a light. We were soon to be taught better.</div>Hirgen