From the book by Granville Fortescue, Special correspondent of the Daily Telegraph

'At the Front with Three Armies'

My Adventures in the Great War

 

A Gentleman Reporter Tells His Story

German postcard. German troops hail Austrian siege artillery as the citadel of Namur burns in the background.

 

NAMUR

Chapter III

Taube aeroplanes began to make their appearance over Brussels during the second week in August. The sight of one of these air machines turned the city into a whirlpool of excitement. The crowds in the streets pointed, gesticulated, argued, while the Civil Guard commenced a fusillade which did no harm to the aviator, but accounted for many casualties in the city when the shots let oft into the sky returned in a shower of lead. During this time I had been following the movements of the advancing German columns to the best of my ability, through the reports of constant skirmishing which appeared in the local press. At that period the censorship was in no manner strict. My military training told me that the Germans were certain to come along the two main lines of communication through Belgium, and it was about this time that in Brussels we got the first news of the coming of the English troops. Stories of how hermetically- sealed railway carriages passed through certain towns in the night and how these were the English regiments were told round the tables of the cafe's. Then the news spread that certain correspondents had stumbled on General French's army. These had been taken prisoners and only released on the solemn assurance that they would under no circumstances breathe a word of the position of the British troops.

It must be remembered that, up to this time, no one believed the Germans would make their smashing attack through Belgium. The nations of the world still had faith in the sanctity of treaties. The more I studied my maps by the light of the information which came to hand each day, the more I became convinced that where her interests were concerned Germany would stop at nothing, not even the violation of Belgium's neutrality. Every day new items appeared in the local papers telling of skirmishes taking place in various parts of the Flemish kingdom. These items could have but one interpretation. They marked the position of the advance guard of a great army pushing into Belgium. In order to assure myself I was right in believing that the Germans were advancing in force through this region, I decided to have a look at Namur and the valley of the Meuse. It was my original intention to go as far south in Belgian territory as I could and then to return for the fighting which I had predicted in my Liege dispatches would take place before Brussels. But fate, in the person of an arbitrary French General, decreed that I should not see the fair capital of Belgium again. My belongings, I hope, are still in the Palace Hotel. I have not seen them since August 12, the day I left Brussels.

I had discovered that the easiest way from point to point in the theatre of operations was by rail, so I bought my ticket and started. No one made the least objection. The strictest orders had already been given about approaching the zone of operations, but it is certain that the Belgian staff did not believe Namur to be in the danger line. You must always bear in mind the fact that the Belgians had never made a serious study of warfare. By nature the Belge is no warrior. The great mass of soldiers, so-called, suddenly brought into being at the outbreak of war, were none the less peasants, clerks, shop-keepers, and so forth, because they wore a gaudy uniform. This uniform when donned did not suddenly endow the wearer with a complete knowledge of military duties. With officers it was the same case. No one has to be told that you cannot make an officer capable of fulfilling his obligations to those under his command over-night. It is not in the spirit of criticism that I am saying all this; it is only to emphasize the splendid work done by the Belgian army when pitted against the most perfect fighting machine in Europe. But this lack of training showed itself in the very aspect of the troops. I think I noticed it more among the regiments stationed round Namur than at any other place.

On my way I had noticed again the wonderful perfection of cultivation of the whole country. I think I have called Belgium the kitchen garden of Europe in another chapter. I cannot improve on the simile. The whole land through which I was passing smiled in consciousness of plenty. The neat farm-houses looked as if they had been recently gone over with scrubbing brush and cloth; they were so clean, they seemed to sparkle in the light of the setting sun.

When I arrived at the station I followed the crowd that was being herded into one corner of the building. No one could pass the gates until his passport had been scrutinized. The spy was abroad in the land. In this fortified city I found many more preparations for war than in Brussels. In the first place one could not move without a laissez-passer. Soldiers patrolled the streets and every few hundred yards you were held up and made to show your papers. The city presented all the grim circumstances of a siege except the actual falling of shells. Barricades were built to command all the main avenues into the city.

Enormous moving vans were hauled across the roadway and turned into a sort of blockhouse. The sides were pierced for rifles and inside sandbags were piled breast high. This improvised fort gave fair protection against rifle fire. As constructed, it was useless against guns. Trenches were dug at either side of the van. As a military effort the fortification left much to be desired.

While I was in Namur I got my first clear view of a German aeroplane. Those I had seen in Brussels had flown so high above the city that it was impossible to form any idea of their exact appearance, but here, one passed overhead not more than two thousand feet up. In shape it was distinct from any other flying machine I had seen. It recalled an insect in flight. It was what I should imagine a prehistoric scarab. looked like on the wing. So striking is the appearance that you never again have any difficulty in distinguishing the Taube. It is painted a sparkling white with a panel of blue through the middle of each wing. Not only is it easy to distinguish these machines by shape and colour, but also the engine makes a characteristic sound quite distinct from that of the French or Belgian aeroplane. While I watched, this machine made a circle of the forts around the city. It was under a heavy rifle fire all the time, but apparently not a bullet came near it for it never once even trembled in flight. Even when some of the guns from the forts got into action it did not change its course.

In Namur I found the same anxious question which has been asked a thousand times by a thousand tongues in this kingdom. "Where are the French, where are the English ?" There can be no doubt but that in spite of much vaunting of "nos petits Belges " the people realized their helplessness before the German war machine. I thought at the time, and I am still of the opinion, that the Belgian army would have been immeasurably strengthened if a few corps of either French troops or English, or both, had been rushed into the Belgian line. Of course the wisdom of such a course is doubtful from a strictly military point of view, but for its moral effect nothing could have been better. I am also sure that a leaven of French or British troops mixed in with the Belgians at this time would have increased the effectiveness of King Albert's army fifty per cent.

Outside of the military precautions which I have mentioned, life went on in quite the usual way in this city. The shops were opened and in the classic phrase "business was as usual." This was quite incomprehensible to me. It certainly indicated that the people of Namur knew nothing of the danger which threatened their city. It was either that, or a supreme confidence in the troops defending it. The Fourth Division which formed the garrison did not present the soldierly appearance of the troops I had seen in Liége. In view of subsequent events, appearances were not deceptive. Why Namur should have fallen as quickly as it did is to me one of the mysteries of this war. I had the opportunity of talking with some of the captured garrison when they were prisoners of war in Germany; but they could give no real explanation. From their description of events, three shots from the 42 centimetre guns was sufficient to demolish each of the forts in turn.

All my sympathies are with the Belgians-how could it be otherwise when I have seen the havoc wrought in the beautiful country ?-but if what I write is to have any value I must enquire into facts that do not redound to the credit, from a military point of view, of those concerned. I have already said that the Belge is essentially non-military. This is in no way to his discredit. In fact, in these days when so many nations have sloughed off the thin veneer of civilization, it is more to the honour of Belgium that because she believed in the good faith of her neighbours she, in a fashion, disregarded military preparedness. The charge brought by Germany, in the attempt to justify her position in violating the neutrality of Belgium, that this nation had created an army for the purposes of offence is disproved by the evidence of Germany itself. A nation making ready for war would first have created trained soldiers. I have not heard who was in command at Namur. I shall read his report, if it is ever published, with much interest.

It seemed that the people of Belgium still believed that somehow the tide of advancing Germans would be turned from the country's shores.

In Namur I met M. Paul Gillan, who typifies the Belgian soldier of the improvised army. When the war broke out M. Gillan owned a very profitable preserves and sweet import business in Chatelet, near Charleroi. His warehouse had been taken over by the military. He was, of course, given a voucher payable after the war. The provisions were to go to the sick and wounded of the Belgian army. When his business thus disappeared over-night, M. Gillan reported with his automobile to the officer commanding at Namur the next day, " I hope the sweets are to the taste of the wounded," he said, as he presented himself, "and as my business no longer needs my supervision I have come to offer myself and my automobile for service." The offer was accepted forthwith.

When it was not required by the staff, M. Gillan put his motor at my disposal. Together we made the ride down the valley of the Meuse, which was the land between the armies at the time. My companion had the mot d'ordre which passed us through all the lines. As we passed swiftly along the banks of the river it was hard to believe that within a few brief weeks its waters would be stained with the blood of thousands. Uhlans had made their appearance at different points on the farther bank of the river, and as our motor was commanded by those hills we kept a sharp look out for the enemy. Every few hundred paces we were stopped by fields of barbed wire entanglements. They will be the special feature of defence in this war. Wire cutters are part of the equipment of the German troops who have been captured, and the first inference was that they were to be used solely for cutting telephone and telegraph wires; but now we know of their more effective employment. When I motored down the left bank of the Meuse the whole country was a labyrinth of wire. Every bridge was most carefully protected in this manner, but I found out afterwards that when these bridges were actually under fire the wire was not the defence expected. In the first place the German artillery was used against it with telling effect, and during the night their scouts would creep up and cut the strands with their clippers.