1914 Chapter 2

2. The march to Belgium

Dieter Luther, Gefreiter

2^nd The platoon was made up of twenty-two men with only the two non-coms, Sergeant Hans Bern and Unteroffizier Marcus Dern who had seen any real action. The others are like me; fresh recruits from the training ground. Besides me, there were some notable names in the platoon like Benny Levi; German Jew descent but he was one mean card player when he was not marching. He was my good friend hence we are the few who befriended across the race.

There was Otto Ritter; a large man with a larger chest and good in the brawls which does happen between platoons. Otto comes from the north where his forefathers were loggers.

There was also Rudy Erwin III; born and bred in a tavern but his grandfather decided to the name firstborn after himself. That was how he became the third. Rudy was also our man for anything that he can steal, cheat or buy with real cash. He was the Fixer in every platoon.

There was the last Dietrich Muller; the scholar who reads all our bulletin and tells us in his words what it meant. We also nicknamed him ‘Kaiser’ for he sometimes acted like one.

All the others were called the Wild Pack as we were always together.

The First German The army marched into Belgium through the town of Stavelot.

It was a small the town like the Weismes with a small population and here they are mostly farmers. The town grew around the famous Abbey of Stavelot and once a region of the Roman Empire. It developed around a Benedictine abbey founded c.650. The abbots were later princes of the Holy Roman Empire until their land was secularized in the French Revolutionary Wars. It’s like any town we would have seen in our own homeland; farms and small houses with narrow streets. The company marched through the town streets and bypassing the roundabout in the town center. We were not anticipating great welcome but maybe some curious looks from the local folks were expected. But instead, we have given the closed doors treatment maybe from stories of our misgivings from other parties.

“They don’t want the Germans here.” I heard the remark made by some guy behind me. I ignored it and marched on.

Nevertheless, the quiet reception was prolonged to dusk. I continued with the marching by ignoring them. I saw the angry peeking faces and knew their thoughts of us. I guess, we could tell them that we meant them no harm there but it was fruitless. There are other threats besides angry citizens. We were told to be careful with our weapons though for there are the Belgium guerrilla fighters, or franto be reurs’ they are reported as a threat and known cases of snatching the weapons.

These Belgium fighters had originated form the Franco-Prussian War 1870 when the French soldiers took to such a clandestine approach to the war. They would delay or harass the army with their small numbers and devious tactics. The Belgian army although numbered to no more than one-tenth of ours but they had put up great resistance with the local folks in stealth war. Our commanders are concerned about this tactic, so they ordered some drastic actions like burning of home and detaining or removing potential resistance recruits to deter them from attacking us. But our company was spared as when we marched in, those acts were already committed by earlier squads. But since we came aftermath, we were the targets for retribution by the locals.

One old lady came out and threw a rotten piece of vegetable at one of us, but I restrained my men from reacting She may be upset that we are invading her land, but this was war. And in war, we fight with their soldiers and not their civilians.

It took us five days to reach the Meuse at Huy on the 18^th of August with no major harassment from any Belgium troops. Here we had a surprise as the platoon was assigned its first task; to escort some German deserters to the nearby Detention Center at the Fortress. The Command had converted the fortress of Huy for this purpose as a Disciplinary for these soldiers. It was an old fort built by Dutch in 1818 and completed in 1823. It was to counter any invasion by the French Emperor Napoleon's attacking Holland. It sits on top of the hill overlooking the river Meuse and the town of Huy.

"Hey, Dieter. Do you think I would end up like them?" I looked at Dietrich, our so-called ‘Kaiser’.

"I doubt so, Dietrich. With me around, you won't get a chance to join them. I would have shot you first in the butt and sent you off back to Berlin a hero." We laughed at the thought of going home to Berlin. But seriously, it was one way to go home. Well, it’s better than desertion. The deserters are not going home at all but back to the Front Line.

Peter Weiner, Hauptmann

The short man who smoked expensive cigars and held the rank of Oberst asked me to get platoon to escort these reluctant soldiers to the Fortress. He gave me additional orders to follow; his nephew was among those deserters.

The Oberst wanted me to bail his nephew out before he reaches the Fortress.

“I am in more in kind to shoot the man as a deserter than to release him but he is the only son my sister has.” The Oberst made his point towards me. “He is a good soldier and needed some time to …. recover.”

I had seen men getting shot in the back for deserting units. Not all of these soldiers here are volunteered for this war, they joined the army during peacetime and it was supposed to be a fun career with a uniform. Now the call for them to fight may be dampening their enthusiasm to be in this career, but there are very few options to opt during the war. The basic training taught us that.

“Kill or be killed.”

I knew that once the deserters are locked behind those fortress walls, their lives would be a hard one. But if I disobey the Oberst, my life would hell for the rest of the war. My previous interlude into his love life has already singled me out for so many harsh conditions, but now with this own lifeblood, I could really end up with a gunshot in the back.

“I will see what I can do.” I told the Oberst. I have a friend here in this town, whose son was my University mate. He was an industrialist and I knew him to be a true Belgian. I searched out his house using a borrowed horse to ride on.

"Phillip, I I am glad I could find your home." I met the man outside his house. Phillip Gant was not too happy to see me, more so when I am wearing the uniform of the occupied army. He was an elderly man whose son was in University with me before the chap died of an accident then. It was listed as an accident but the truth was the son committed suicide from the stress and pressure of his family to become a scholar when all he wanted to be was to sing. But the University authorities under inducement reported in as a freak accident saying he fell off the balcony. And was agreed with the family.

"Peter, I would have been more courteous if you are not wearing your uniform here. So pardon my manners, if I do not invite you to my house." We were at the front porch. Phillip looks older since his son's incident and I accepted his apology. I told him of the need to hide a man with him, as that man has refused to fight. I asked if Phillip can offer him temporary shelter and later released him across the border. He was reluctant initially but later agreed.

My next task was to arrange for the nephew to come here but Phillip told me to send the lad to the old pub we used to go. It was along the way to the Fortress.

I rejoined the 2^nd Platoon and told them to marched the men in the evening as at the low light, a man could slip away.  I stayed back to watch the 2^nd Platoon settled in for a quiet afternoon as the rear guards while the supply trucks move up to the front. When it was a time near dusk, I signaled the Sergeant to marched the few deserters to the Fortress. I watched as the men walked by me until I saw the man I am supposed to assist.

"You. Step out and identified yourself." I pointed to the downtrodden men who are going to be a caged man soon.

"Schmidt Mann, Fifth Platoon, Second Company, Herr Hauptmann." He looks to me like about twenty and still has his boyish looks with him. "I am Oberst...."

"Silence. Speak when spoken. You would follow me and do some works for me." I led him to the rear and made he marched from there, carried the extra ration bags for me. That would slow his marching as I planned it that way. When I came to the designated place, I made him take a detour with me, leaving his other comrades away in front. Soon, I directed the deserter towards the pub and there we met Phillip. I was uneasy then for there were some Belgians there in the pub but Phillip assured me that the deserter will be fine. He then took Schmidt away leaving me to make my way back to the platoon. I saw some bags were still on the street. I waited for a while and then looked for the platoon. I found them and gave them the command.

"Peter, there are some ration bags back there. Get some men to take the bags. I am going back to the Command Post."

“Where is the soldier with you?” I did not explain to him what happened to the soldier carrying the bags. But he took it without a word.

More to my regret later, when I heard a deserter was killed in the village by Belgium. His name was Schmidt.

Abel Lenger, Surgeon

I extracted the bullet from Feldwebel, and told the nurse to bandaged his wound. I took my leave of the temporary surgery area in the kitchen of the Belgium farmer's house. The Feldwebel was shot in the rear left thigh by a sniper not identified. There was speculation that he was shot by the farmer because the Feldwebel was stealing chickens from the farmer's barn. Hauptmann intervened before the men would lynch the farmer who denied shooting the officer. As they were arguing outside the house, I dragged the Feldwebel to the kitchen and cleared the table to start the procedure. I was not concerned about the hygiene of the area except to get the job done so I can be on my way.

"The the bullet is a .762 and not a .303 which is from an Enfield. So the farmer is not the man who shot him. Find among your men for a person who despises him to the level to shoot him in the rear. That person could be a bad shot as he should have shot the Feldwebel between the legs." I laughed with the Hauptmann and dismissed the others with a warning not to lynch the old farmer.

"Herr Doctor, we lost some supplies this morning." That was my aide who was in charge of the supplies. "One small box to be exact; most antibiotics and iodine."

I nodded and walked on to refresh myself with new clothes and possibly a bath if I can get a Belgium home to allow me one. I knew about the missing medicine as I was the one who took it and passed it to the Convent this morning. The Sisters would need it soon when the actual war starts. For my effort, I was given a chunk of cheese in return.

That day. I could see the artillery pieces being dragged by the horses passed by me. The 105 mm Field Howitzer 98 (light field howitzer) was one of our standard pieces used by the Infantry units. I saw one of the 42cm Dicke Bertha was being hauled to the front, but I have not seen it in real action.

"Herr Doctor?"

I looked at the person who just addressed me. It was an old lady who is holding her shawl tight around her shoulders and looking at me with the pleading eyes. I have seen these looks when the patients wanting the extra pain killer or the need to discharged earlier. I nodded at her and she smiled. "Can you assist my daughter? She was in complications as her baby has moved sideways."

I nodded again and asked two passing Gemeiner to follow me. The three of us followed the old lady as she took us to the back street and then into a house by the rear door. She led us to a room at the rear and there was a lady in advanced stages of her pregnancy lying in pain on the cot.

I instructed the guards to stay outside while the old lady assists me. I asked for hot water and lots of towels. It took an hour before I could complete the operation and the baby was saved. Its moments like which makes me feel proud to be a doctor. When I completed the procedure and was preparing to leave, the old lady stopped me.

"I would guide you out. For your safety. And theirs." I saw outside the house were the gathered Belgians. They were not coming in but their intentions were obvious. I was thankful for her as when we left the place, we found Belgians staring at us from open doorways now. The main company had moved on and we are the last three in the town.

“Let them go. They are doctors. They helped my daughter in her birth.” The lady pleaded to the mob but they were not willing to let us go. Just when we thought we were to die, the call went out.

“Germans!” But to my surprise, I was pleased and soon joined by the 2nd Platoon. They had just escorted the deserters to the Fortress and was now returning to catch up with the rest of the company. They were a relief to have with us then and the Belgians dispersed then.

Erich Kroner, Oberst

Stupid the bastard had to go around mentioning my name and this was embarrassing me. I hope the Hauptmann did something stupid than I can have both of them incriminated for court martial but the bastard had himself killed in the alley.

“Serve him right.” I muttered. The Hauptmann did report to me that Schmidt had escaped but was unaware of his plans. It does not matter to me then. With Schmidt dead. I stand to inherit the family's wealth. My rejoicing was soon cut short. It was also then I received the message to prepare for battle as we were expecting resistance in the town ahead like what we experienced over in Liege at the beginning of the month.

That battle had run for twelve days that battle when the German Second Army hit the town. No one planned for the ring of twelve fortresses which was built around the town giving better cover to the Belgian. It was not the walls which held the advance of the Germans, but the four hundred-odd gun up to 210mm in size with a defense of only seventy thousand troops.

Our first assault under General Emmich of the German 2nd Army with thirty thousand men was a bitter lesson in that battle. He was a fool to charge into the guns. Later they called in air support and the bombing spree begin causing the major part of the Belgian to withdraw from the forts but it was still manned. The order came later that the forts needed to be destroyed in case it is used again. We called in in our artillery like the Big Bertha and other howitzers.

It was the The first time I saw the Big Bertha in action. The noise of the shot was loud and almost deafened me when I stood too close. The gun powder canister fired from the barrel of the cannon, soared high and then landed with a deadly impact on the fortress area. Each impact resulted in the collapse of the fortress’s wall. Every time Big Bertha released its fury, the infantry cheered. The other artilleries also took turns to bombard and brought down a number of the fort's weakened walls.

“The Belgians leaving.” The call went out. It was a moral victory to us when the Belgian withdrew to Antwerp but it was a cost to the German 2^nd Army soldiers.

That was how when we were to come into the picture; the German First Army was to recover the loss of morale and regain the grounds we are supposed to capture under the Schlieffen Plan delayed by the Belgian defenses. It was then we got the dreaded message; the British Expeditionary Forces (BEF) were reinforcing the lines with the Belgian.

“I want the Army on the beaches facing the Channel.” That triggered the battles to the front lines' that whoever reaches first on the beach would be able to command the coming battles. I called up for Hauptmann Weiner.

"I want your two platoons of your company to march ahead of the division. Be our scouts and report back to me. No direct confrontation unless needed. Send in a good platoon, not some inexperienced ones." I needed the intelligence reports so I would not march into a trap like Von Bulow's Second Army.

"I would take 2^nd and 3^rd Platoon, as they have experienced NCO' with them." I nodded to his request. Just as the Hauptmann was to leave, I stopped him.

"My request has been fulfilled?" The Hauptmann looked at me and nodded. Good, he had performed the task and now the next action would depend on that task.

It was then Major Keister from First The company walked in.

"Herr Oberst. I am asked to bring up to date on the plan. General Von Kluck would like to be in Paris before the others. The General does not foresee any need to slow down thus allowing the Second Army to redeem their loss from Liege. So please do the needed and all communique from High Command would need to be relayed to General Von Kluck."

I admired the younger Major as he held his position well as an aide to Von Kluck. It’s the ideal job for a junior officer who needed it to springboard to the higher ranks. These officers rarely see an enemy upfront but work on sending more young men to die for their planning.

"Major, I have sent recon ahead and would be advised once we hear of any enemies." The Major smiled at me. He would have something to tell the General when they meet. So that is one good thing for me.

Major Keister took his leave to go on with his other works.