BAYONET CHARGE IN FOG.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVII, Issue 237, 16 March 1915, Page 7

BAYONET CHARGE IN FOG.

VIVID STORY OF A FORGOTTEN BATTLE. (IX TIIE FRENCH FRONTIER. (Mr H. W. Nevison, who has been witnessing the operations in the Vosgcs. graphically describes in the following <li»plcli to the Daily News, a Frem'h bayonet charge in the fog and the rapture i f a position strongly held by the Gcrmans.) Two hours b.'fe.ve dawn the brigade was silently roused by orderlies and noncommissioned officers in the villages larms, and one small town where the. men had been billeted for two or three days. They got up sleepily, swung tbeii knapsacks into place, tightened the. belts with the cartridge, pouches, and to'.k tiicir tin "canteens" to sheds, where camp-kitchens were already alight. A little black colTce was served out, anl anyone who chose took a piece of bread. Then they found their particular com panics and sections —a difficult job, for the darkness was further obscured by a thick, wet fog—and silently they fell in. The brigade was made up of three rejrnr.o.ils—the 3<Hli (a French colonial ivj.'iniint that had been recalled fer the \va" from Algeria or some other foreign part), the 222 nd and the 2!)2nd. The la.it consisted of reservists—the men who had served their time in their youth and h;-;l settled down to ordinary married and civil life, which is the object of French and all other human existence.

V- IVING THE FLAG. Probably, there ivere about (1000 in the brigade altogether. The colonials were placed upon the left, nearest to the small town of G . The 222 nd held tile eeritre; the 292 nd the right, near the village of M . They fell in just behind the rest of a plateau on which the guns —field Runs and heavy av( illery —had already taken .position. Tn front of them lay a steep valley, cut. like a, trench by the Mortagne. pne of ihe many swift little streams which run from the Vosges to feed the main rivr of (he Moselle. Only two narrow foofluidges cross the stream. Creeping down tin' sti\-p side of the valley, the colonials crossed by the bridge nearest to the town of G . Both the reservist Regiments had to pass in file the other which took time.

Time was all important Perhaps spies were at work. Perhaps it was only by chance that the enemy dropped a shell on the bank of the stream and knocked a sergeant, who was carrying a Slug, into the water. A private jumped after him, and saved the flag, hut the man was carried down-stream. Daylight was making the fog just visible as the lines formed up again on the high-road that runs beside the river in the direction of Rambervillers, with branches to Baccarat or St. Die, in the Vosges, or south-west of Epinal.

Tin- oilicers knew that the crest of the plateau on tlie opposite side of the valley and the scattered woods beyond were strongly held by the Germans, part of the great Bavarian army under orders to break through the French linos here and clear a passable road into the open centre of France. Probably most of the privates knew it also. BAYONET CIIABGE IN THE MIST. The 3fith or colonial regiment was ordered to march round further to its left, so as to approach the enemy's position by a flattish road running east from the small town of G . The two Reservist Regiments, with about half a mile interval between thorn, began to advance in thin lines up the steep, opposite side of the valley itself. The fog was now white, but still dense. The hillside, is so steep, as to be invisible "dead ground" to anyone up on tlie top. Up the men struggled over the slippery grass and clay, keeping tjieir lines as best as they couid. Half-way up they were halted, and the order to fix bayonets was whispered from man to man. Then the climbing became more rapid, the slope less steep. A rifle shot rang out through the, mist. Instantly from a high plateau behind them the French guns poured shell whirling and, screaming over their heads. There was a wild outburst of rifle fire, somewhere in front. For fifty yards over gently rising ground the men of the 222 ml rushed forward, each where he happened to start.

A little embankment of loose earl.lr suddenly appeared before tlicin through the mist. Next moment they were over 1 it, and in among grey-coated human beings standing in a ditch. A hideous shriek went up along the crest—the most awful sound of war. A few seconds later the men of the 222 nd, fewer but still in some kind of line, were running forward over the flat field in front of them, their bayonets bloody.

UNDER THE SCREAMING SHELLS. Their own shells still screamed over their heads. From somewhere far in front the enemy's guns were now answering. firing through tlic mist at ranges calculated yesterday. Rifle bullets were coming thick and blindly through the mist as well. Another low embankment suddenly appeared. A line of rifles flashed above it. But the enemy did iv.it await the charge. For a moment grey forms could dimly be seen running back across another main road, and clambering out of the ditches beyond it. Quicker than ever the 222 nd stormed forward through furze bushes, across the road, over the ditches. Then something black rose ill front of them. It was the edge of a great oak wood, into which the Bavarians were running to hide. After them among the trees the 222 nd ran. There they stopped—they stopped dead. Right among those tall oaks and thickets the great shells from their own guns so far behind them on the plateau beyond the; valley were crashing on every side. They cut trees in half and pinned men down beneath them. With awful explosions, they dug huge pits in the forest ground, their fragments scattering death. The shock of their concussion laid men flat, never to rise.

Nothing could stop the terrific rain of' iron. No signal could bo given through the mist. No gunner supposed that the wood bad boon already readied. Barely forty minutes had passed since the ivgiments formed along the road at the bottom of the valley. No one could believe that the 222 nd already stood where the enemy had been. The roar and crash of the great French shells among the oaks coiii imied without, pause, and at every crash the Frenchmen fell. DEADLY JOURNEY BACK. Slowly, and one, by one, the men began to iuni hack. Tlten more came and move. The mist lifted. The flat stretch of field oVi'T -u'liiefi tlioy had charged now had to he rocvossed again. Visible and exposed, they snll'ered as retreating men' always sull'cr. Tile. ground was spotted I with little heaps of blue among the little heaps of prey. All that were left behind climbed down into the valley again. On their right the 202 nd hail also reached the high road along the top, but could get no farther. (In their left the :)(ith Colonials had foimlit. their way up a shallow valley towards a part of Ahe forest further back, in hopes of taking the enemy's advanced line on its right (lank. But that open valley is shaped like the jaws of death, and when the mist lifted the Slith were mowed down by machine guns posted at the edges of the woods. They could 110 longer stand. It was only a small engagement—finite small as this appalling contest

! goes.. Just a. part of tlic- general move went, by which the French succeeded in holding up the advance of th.it Bavarian army through tin; dangerous gap between Toul and Spinal. Probably no one has ever heard of it outside the General Staff and the survivors of those who were present. It all liappwie.J long ago—on August 30, I believe, just a fortnight before the precipitate retirement of the Germans in this region behind their own frontier began. The ground is now thickly covered willi crosses, and men who fell in that gallant assault now lie as bones beneath them.