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−	~~Go To~~ [[~~XXI IN THE HELL OF VAUQUOIS~~ \| '''~~Next Chapter~~''']]	+	<p align="right"> [[Main_Page \| WWI Document Archive ]] > [[Diaries, Memorials, Personal Reminiscences]] > [[A German Deserter's War Experience]] > '''XX THE " ITCH "---A SAVIOR''' </p><hr>

Hirgen at 03:23, 7 November 2008

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	away. All the copper, brass, tin, and lead that could be got was		away. All the copper, brass, tin, and lead that could be got was
	collected.		collected.
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		+	Go To [[XXI IN THE HELL OF VAUQUOIS \| '''Next Chapter''']]

Hirgen at 02:34, 2 September 2008

2008-09-02T02:34:57Z

New page

<CENTER>XX 

THE "ITCH"---A SAVIOR </center>

 ON January 5th the Germans attacked along the whole forest
front, and took more than 1800 prisoners. We alone had captured
700 men of the French infantry regiment No. 120. The hand to hand
fighting lasted till six o'clock at night. On that day I, together
with another sapper, got into a trench section that was still
being defended by eight Frenchmen. We could not back out, so we
had to take up the unequal struggle. Fortunately we were well
provided with hand grenades. We cut the fuses so short that they
exploded at the earliest moment. I threw one in the midst of the
eight Frenchmen. They had scarcely escaped the first one, when
the second arrived into which they ran. We utilized their momentary
confusion by throwing five more in quick succession. We had reduced
our opponents to four. Then we opened a rifle fire, creeping closer
and closer up to them. Their bullets kept whistling above our
heads. One of the Frenchmen was shot in the mouth; three more
were left. These turned to flee. In such moments one is seized
with an indescribable rage and forgets all about the danger that
surrounds one. We had come quite near to them, when the last one
stumbled and fell forward on his face. In a trice I was on him;
he fought desperately with his fists; my mate was following the
other two. I kept on wrestling with my opponent. He was bleeding
from his mouth; I had knocked out some of his teeth. Then he surrendered
and raised his hands. I let go and then had a good look at him.
He was some 35 years old, about ten years older than myself. I
now felt sorry for him. He pointed to his wedding ring, talking
to me all the while. I understood what he wanted---he wanted to
be kept alive. He handed me his bottle, inviting me to drink wine.
He cried; maybe he thought of his wife and children. I pressed
his hand, and he showed me his bleeding teeth. "You are a
silly fellow," I told him; "you have been lucky. The
few missing teeth don't matter. For you the slaughtering is finished;
come along!" I was glad I had not killed him, and took him
along myself so as to protect him from being ill-treated. When
I handed him over he pressed my hand thankfully and laughed; he
was happy to be safe. However had the time he might have as prisoner
he would be better off at any rate than in the trenches. At least
he had a chance of getting home again.

 In the evening we took some of the forbidden blankets, hundreds
of which we had captured that day. Ten of us were lying in a shelter,
all provided with blankets. Everybody wanted to get the "itch,"
however strange that may sound. We undressed and rolled ourselves
in those blankets. Twenty-four hours later little red pimples
showed themselves all over the body, and twelve men reported sick.
The blankets were used in the whole company, but all of them had
not the desired effect. The doctor sent nine of us to the hospital
at Montmédy, and that very evening we left the camp in
high glee. The railroad depot at Apremont had been badly shelled;
the next station was Chatel. Both places are a little more than
three miles behind the front, At Apremont the prisoners were divided
into sections. Some of the prisoners had their homes at Apremont.
Their families were still occupying their houses, and the prisoners
asked to be allowed to pay them a visit. I chanced to observe
one of those meetings at Apremont. Two men of the landsturm led
one of the prisoners to the house which he pointed out to them
as his own. The young wife of the prisoner was sitting in the
kitchen with her three children. We followed the men into the
house. The woman became as white as a sheet when she beheld her
husband suddenly. They rushed to meet each other and fell into
each other's arms. We went out, for we felt that we were not wanted.
The wife had not been able to get the slightest signs from her
husband for the last five months, for the German forces had been
between her and him. He, on the other hand, had been in the trench
for months knowing that his wife and children must be there, on
the other side, very near, yet not to be reached. He did not know
whether they were alive or dead. He heard the French shells scream
above his head. Would they hit Apremont? He wondered whether it
was his own house that had been set alight by a shell and was
reddening the sky at night. He did not know. The uncertainty tortured
him, and life became hell. Now he was at home, though only for
a few hours. He had to leave again a prisoner; but now he could
send a letter to his wife by the field post. He had to take leave.
She had nothing she could give him---no underwear, no food, absolutely
nothing. She had lost all and had to rely on the charity of the
soldiers. She handed him her last money, but he returned it. We
could not understand what they told each other. She took the money
back; it was German money, five and ten pfennig pieces and some
coppers---her whole belongings. We could no longer contain ourselves
and made a collection among ourselves. We got more than ten marks
together which we gave to the young woman. At first she refused
to take it and looked at her husband. Then she took it and wanted
to kiss our hands. We warded her off, and she ran to the nearest
canteen and bought things. Returning with cigars, tobacco, matches,
and sausage, she handed all over to her husband with a radiant
face. She laughed, once again perhaps in a long time, and sent
us grateful looks. The children clung round their father and kissed
him again and again. She accompanied her husband, who carried
two of the kiddies, one on each arm, while his wife carried the
third child. Beaming with happiness the family marched along between
the two landsturm men who had their bayonets fixed. When they
had to take leave, all of them, parents and children began to
weep. She knew that her husband was no longer in constant danger,
and she was happy, for though she had lost much, she still had
her most precious possessions. Thousands of poor men and women
have met such a fate near their homes.

 Regular trains left Chatel. We quitted the place at 11 o'clock
at night, heartily glad to leave the Argonnes behind us. We had
to change trains at Vouzières, and took the train to Diedenhofen.
There we saw twelve soldiers with fixed bayonets take along three
Frenchmen. They were elderly men in civilian dress. We had no
idea what it signified, so we entered into a conversation with
one of our fellow travelers. He was a merchant, a Frenchman living
at Vouzières, and spoke German fluently. The merchant was
on a business trip to Sédan, and told us that the three
civilian prisoners were citizens of his town. He said: "We
obtain our means of life from the German military authorities,
but mostly we do not receive enough to live, and the people have
nothing left of their own; all the cattle and food have been commandeered.
Those three men refused to keep on working for the military authorities,
because they could not live on the things they were given. They
were arrested and are now being transported to Germany. Of course,
we don't know what will happen to them."

 The man also told us that all the young men had been taken
away by the Germans; all of them had been interned in Germany.

 At Sédan we had to wait for five hours; for hospital
trains were constantly arriving. It was 2 o'clock in the afternoon
of the following day when we reached Montmédy, where we
went to the hospital. There all our clothes were disinfected in
the "unlousing establishment," and we could take a proper
bath. We were lodged in the large barracks. There one met people
from all parts of the front, and all of them had only known the
same misery; there was not one among them who did not curse this
war. All of them were glad to be in safety, and all of them tried
their best to be "sick" as long as possible. Each day
we were twice treated with ointment; otherwise we were at liberty
to walk about the place.

 One day we paid a visit to the fortress of Montmédy
high up on a hill. Several hundreds of prisoners were just being
fed there. They were standing about in the yard of the fortress
and were eating their soup. One of the prisoners came straight
up to me. I had not noticed him particularly, and recognized him
only when he stood before me. He was the man I had struggled with
on January 5th, and we greeted each other cordially. He had brought
along a prisoner who spoke German well and who interpreted for
us all we had to say to each other. He had seen me standing about
and had recognized me at once. Again and again he told me how
glad he was to be a prisoner. Like myself he was a soldier because
he had to be, and not from choice. At that time we had fought
with each other in blind rage; for a moment we had been deadly
enemies. I felt happy at having stayed my fury at that time, and
again I became aware of the utter idiocy of that barbarous slaughter.
We separated with a firm handshake.

 A fortnight I remained at the hospital; then I had to return
to the front. We had been treated well at the hospital, so we
started on our return journey with mixed feelings. As soon as
we arrived at Chatel, the terminus, we heard the incessant gun
fire. It was no use kicking, we had to go into the forest again.
When we reached our old camp, we found that different troops were
occupying it. Our company had left, nobody knew for what destination.
Wherever we asked, nobody could give us any information. So we
had to go back to the command of our corps, the headquarters of
which were at Corney at that time. We left Chatel again by a hospital
train, and reached Corney after half an hour's journey. Corney
harbored the General Staff of the 16th Army Corps, and we thought
they surely ought to know where our company was. General von Mudra
and his officers had taken up their quarters in a large villa.
The house was guarded by three double sentries. We showed our
pay books and hospital certificates, and an orderly led us to
a spacious room. It was the telephone room. There the wires from
all the divisional fronts ran together, and the apparatus were
in constant use. A sergeant-major looked into the lists and upon
the maps. In two minutes he had found our company. He showed us
on the map where it was fighting and where its camp was. "The
camp is at the northern end of Varennes," he said, "and
the company belongs to the 34th division; formerly it was part
of the 33rd. The position it is in is in the villages of Vauquois
and Boureuilles." Then he explained to us on the map the
direction we were to take, and we could trot off. We returned
by rail to Chatel, and went on foot from there to Apremont. We
spent the night in the half destroyed depot of Apremont. In order
to get to Varennes we had to march to the south. On our way we
saw French prisoners mending the roads. Most of them were black
colonial troops in picturesque uniforms. On that road Austrian
motor batteries were posted. Three of those 30.5-cm. howitzers
were standing behind a rocky slope, but did not fire. When at
noon we reached the height of Varennes we saw the whole wide plan
in front of us. Varennes itself was immediately in front of us
in the valley. A little farther up on the heights was Vauquois.
No houses were to be seen; one could only notice a heap of rubbish
through the field glasses. Shells kept exploding in that rubbish
heap continually, and we felt a cold sweat run down our backs
at the thought that the place up there was our destination. We
had scarcely passed the ridge when some shells exploded behind
us. At that place the French were shooting with artillery at individuals.
As long as Vauquois had been in their power they had been able
to survey the whole country, and we comprehended why that heap
of rubbish was so bitterly fought for. We ran down the slope and
found ourselves in Varennes. The southern portion of the village
had been shelled to pieces and gutted. Only most of the chimneys
which were built apart from the bottom upward, had remained standing,
thin blackened forms rising out of the ruins into the air. Everywhere
we saw groups of soldiers collecting the remaining more expensive
metals which were sent to Germany. Among other things church-bells
melted into shapeless lumps were also loaded on wagons and taken
away. All the copper, brass, tin, and lead that could be got was
collected.

XX THE " ITCH "---A SAVIOR - Revision history

Bkimberl at 18:51, 13 July 2009

Hirgen at 03:23, 7 November 2008

Hirgen at 02:34, 2 September 2008