machine gun had stopped. Either it had jammed or the crew had been silenced. Captain Carrick and his men were almost at the other hedge and the colonel shouted, “Lancashire Yeomanry! Charge!”
Doddy and I stood, “Come on lads!” We ran as fast as we could. I still expected the chatter of a machine gun but it was just an occasional desultory shot from a rifle. I saw B Squadron as they disappeared behind the hedgerow and then it was our turn. We all yelled as we burst through but all we found were the dead and the wounded. The Germans had fled. The machine gun lay at a strange ang le the crew all dead.
We all grinned at each other. We had thought we would die and yet we had survived. I quickly checked to see if more of my men had died but they had not. We had just lost the three. They would be hard to replace but I still had my section. We had survived again.
Chapter 8
The next two days of th e Battle of the Marne followed the same pattern. We rode after the fleeing Germans and, when they stopped, we dismounted and became infantry as we winkled them out of their positions. We found that we were luckier than the real infantry for they were attacking positions which had been prepared. Because we were cavalry we managed to reach them before they had time to prepare themselves. They were just improvising and using whatever was to hand. We still lost men but not in any great numbers. We heard rumours that the infantry were losing thousands of men.
We had not even had time to put up tents at night and we slept where we could. The poor cooks were reduced to adding water to bully beef and serving that as a sort of instant soup. We were so hungry that we wolfed down all that they produced. As we gratefully drank the hot sweet tea I said to George, “Well the sacrifice will be worth it if we can win the war before Christmas.”
He shook his head, “This won’t end by Christmas. The generals won’t be bothered by a few soldiers getting killed. It is land they want. Until we are on the German border and beyond there will be no end to this war.”
That brought me up short. I had not thought it through completely but I had assumed that we would all be home by Christmas and I would be back driving Lord Burscough around. I had pictured myself in the Wheatsheaf pub telling the stories of the heroism of people like Doddy and Tiny. Now I felt depressed. This was my future; exhausted, starving and with a uniform which was already showing signs of wear and tear and we hadn’t even been here for two months yet.
And then the battle was over and we had won. The Germans were in retreat. Perhaps George was wrong. Looking back I cannot believe how naïve I was. Then we received our next orders. We had been so successful that the cavalry was being sent towards Calais to get around the flank of the German Army. We started what would become known as ‘The Race to the Sea’. For us it became a death race!
For once , we were not the cavalry who were leading this race. That was the role of the 1 st Brigade, Cavalry Division. These were the real professionals, the old cavalry regiments. Our job was to support and so we followed in their wake. That meant finding the grass which their mounts had not devoured and travelling along roads which showed the passage of thousands of horses.
Doddy had withdrawn into himself and no matter how many jokes Robbie told h im, he did not respond. He had been the big brother. Tiny had looked up to and admired Doddy. Neither of them ever thought that the other would die and now the worst had happened. It made me think of my brothers. We had fallen out but they were still my flesh and blood. I wondered if they thought of me as they toiled away in their factory. I knew that Albert would be desperate to be seventeen so that he could join up. I was not certain if I liked that thought. I had expected the survivors of the war and the battles to be the better
Doddy and I stood, “Come on lads!” We ran as fast as we could. I still expected the chatter of a machine gun but it was just an occasional desultory shot from a rifle. I saw B Squadron as they disappeared behind the hedgerow and then it was our turn. We all yelled as we burst through but all we found were the dead and the wounded. The Germans had fled. The machine gun lay at a strange ang le the crew all dead.
We all grinned at each other. We had thought we would die and yet we had survived. I quickly checked to see if more of my men had died but they had not. We had just lost the three. They would be hard to replace but I still had my section. We had survived again.
Chapter 8
The next two days of th e Battle of the Marne followed the same pattern. We rode after the fleeing Germans and, when they stopped, we dismounted and became infantry as we winkled them out of their positions. We found that we were luckier than the real infantry for they were attacking positions which had been prepared. Because we were cavalry we managed to reach them before they had time to prepare themselves. They were just improvising and using whatever was to hand. We still lost men but not in any great numbers. We heard rumours that the infantry were losing thousands of men.
We had not even had time to put up tents at night and we slept where we could. The poor cooks were reduced to adding water to bully beef and serving that as a sort of instant soup. We were so hungry that we wolfed down all that they produced. As we gratefully drank the hot sweet tea I said to George, “Well the sacrifice will be worth it if we can win the war before Christmas.”
He shook his head, “This won’t end by Christmas. The generals won’t be bothered by a few soldiers getting killed. It is land they want. Until we are on the German border and beyond there will be no end to this war.”
That brought me up short. I had not thought it through completely but I had assumed that we would all be home by Christmas and I would be back driving Lord Burscough around. I had pictured myself in the Wheatsheaf pub telling the stories of the heroism of people like Doddy and Tiny. Now I felt depressed. This was my future; exhausted, starving and with a uniform which was already showing signs of wear and tear and we hadn’t even been here for two months yet.
And then the battle was over and we had won. The Germans were in retreat. Perhaps George was wrong. Looking back I cannot believe how naïve I was. Then we received our next orders. We had been so successful that the cavalry was being sent towards Calais to get around the flank of the German Army. We started what would become known as ‘The Race to the Sea’. For us it became a death race!
For once , we were not the cavalry who were leading this race. That was the role of the 1 st Brigade, Cavalry Division. These were the real professionals, the old cavalry regiments. Our job was to support and so we followed in their wake. That meant finding the grass which their mounts had not devoured and travelling along roads which showed the passage of thousands of horses.
Doddy had withdrawn into himself and no matter how many jokes Robbie told h im, he did not respond. He had been the big brother. Tiny had looked up to and admired Doddy. Neither of them ever thought that the other would die and now the worst had happened. It made me think of my brothers. We had fallen out but they were still my flesh and blood. I wondered if they thought of me as they toiled away in their factory. I knew that Albert would be desperate to be seventeen so that he could join up. I was not certain if I liked that thought. I had expected the survivors of the war and the battles to be the better
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