1914 Chapter 11

11 Antwerp

Abel Lenger, Surgeon

I had been to this city a year ago as a guest of a friend who used to study in Berlin. Her name was Francois and we were getting serious into a relationship then. She asked me to join her in Antwerp to see her parents and enjoyed the sight.

It was a long week stay with her family while they guided me in the city. Her father was a Major in the Army and was proud of the fortress there. He boasted to me of the setup.

“There are twelve forts protecting the city with eight on the right banks of Scheldt and the balance facing the coastal. The earlier eight was planned for a possible attack by Netherlands or Germany.” I took that line with a smile.

“They have spaced out 3 to 4 km in between them. They were originally built with bricks but of late was reinforced with concrete. But they lack one essential item; new cannons as the old ones are not too effective in the current war.” I ground my teeth and smiled. Why was he telling me that when I was a surgeon or a healer at best? I was no military officer keen on the establishment. I guess it was too soon to decline the information and no one has foreseen the need to reinforced with new cannons and also did expect the pace of the war to be so fast.

“Germany is at peace.” That was my argument with the younger brother of Francois who had returned from his Belgian Army stint. His name was Jon and he argued well for his army but I tried to reason to him as an army surgeon on the terms of precision and lifesaving needs. That argument caused my so-called proposed engagement to be called off when I ended up in a brawl with Jon.

I said my good bye to Francois and leave Antwerp. That day, I was coming back to prove my point but I am not sure I want to.

"I am okay, Bella. I just had some dust in my eyes." I dared not tell her of Francois nor would she understand. To me, my relationship with Bella was to keep each other company and then we would decide after this war. Just as I last wrote to Francois before we embarked on the war with Belgium.

Francois did not reply and I don't care anymore. I guess we were never meant to be together.

Erich Kroner, Oberst

"So many forts and how many did you say are behind the walls?" I looked at the pale-faced Oberst-lieutenant  Luther. He was clearly shaken up to be so near the front while I have moved nearer to be with the men.

“I am the Oberst and needed to be with the men at this stage of the war.” That was what I told him but he knows I did it to taunt him.

"About 50,000 reserves as I was advised." He was unsure. I glared at him.

“What kind of intel are you providing me? I can’t send my men to unsupported Intel.” I shouted out.

“Imbecile!” I added in and then I changed the subject.

"Where is Von Beseler, commander of the 3^rd Reserve Korps? He should have a strength of five infantry divisions, plus hundreds over 160 heavy and 13 super-heavy artillery pieces?" I asked my officer.

"He is somewhere in Mechelen, I think. I cannot confirm as the telephone lines are down. There have been reports of Belgian troops attacking it outside of Antwerp. I am ...."

"Not sure. I know, Oberstlieutetenant Luther. None of your intel can be supported. I may need you to go there and get it for me. How would I have planned a battle without proper intel? Do you agree, Oberst-lieutenant  Luther?" I glared at him and he saluted back. He left my tent to carry out his duty as my Intel Officer.

Now he may need to find better ways to save his life.

"Send me Hauptmann Weiner." I told my personal aide.

Peter Weiner, Hauptmann

It was pure carnage when the towns are laid to dust by the bombardment. The cannon nicknamed Big Bertha was actually named Minenwerfer-Great howitzers. The gun weighed over thirty tons was heavy to move but its load of seventeen-inch caliber, it was a formidable weapon with a range of nine kilometers or over thirty thousand feet. It was first tested on October 1914 at the Battle of Liege. It destroyed Forts Pontisse and Loncin when the caliber fired by the gun could penetrate the masonry underground. There were three types of projectiles; the armor-piercing, the high explosive and the intermediate.

The armor-piercing shell was designed to smash through concrete and metal armor but was largely ineffective against reinforced concrete.

High explosive shells were fitted with two charges and could be set to have no delay or a short or a long delay. If set to "no delay," then the shell burst on impact. 42 cm high explosive shell craters could be as wide as 9 m (29 ft 6 in) and as deep as 6 m (19 ft 8 in). If set to a delayed detonation, it could penetrate up to 12 m (39 ft 4 in) of earth.

The intermediate, or "short shell," weighed half as much as the high explosive shell and was fitted with a ballistic tip for range and accuracy. 42 cm shells were generally 1.5 m (4 ft 11 in) long, weighed between 400–1,160 kg (880–2,560 lb), and were propelled primer loaded into the gun in a brass casing.

The nickname Big Bertha was given by the soldiers who saw the impact of the gun. The name meant ‘bright famous’ was the name by the mother of Charlemagne in the eighth century.

The war had not changed ever since the introduction of howitzers to bombard the castles under siege but the impact by the guns was becoming more powerful then. Big Bertha was one example. We were no more fighting a war but destroying what’s left for the people after the war. It was to save the soldier’s lives but at what cost was it to the citizens.

I have been to Antwerp before some years back and with the burden of the war, there was not much to see except clouds of dust and rubbles. We were told to hold the line while the other Divisions move to take on the Belgian. That was a relief to be the rear guard, but we cannot hide our disgust on the effect of the bombardment.

Cannons and mortars sounded out and then a building comes down. That was what we were treated to from our holding position. I saw the bombardment on one of the Fort while the survivors tried to escape the artillery pieces; they escaped the rubble to be slaughtered by the machine guns.

I needed not to command for the men to take their own initiative to kill with their pent up anger from the retreat earlier. It gave the vicious desire not to show mercy. I would have stopped them but I did not for if we were to reversed the table, the Belgian would have done the same to us. Maybe we were winning then and there would come a day when they could be winning. Then it was our turn to be killed.

I saw the Army doctor as he picked his way through the rubbles.

Dieter Luther, Gefreiter

I took five of the men with me and crossed the river on some makeshift raft. We sailed for a short distance before we found the spot to climbed on the banks. We came with only our rifles and bayonet with two sticks of grenades plus our uniform on the raft. The swim was cold in that weather and once we were on board we got back into our clothes and started to run to keep warm. We made it to an empty house and went inside. We were about to speak on our next plan when we heard voices. It came from upstairs and it sounded like Belgian.

"They are saying that they are tired." I looked at the soldier named Michael.

"I speak a a little bit of their language." Michael whispered back to me. I nodded and I asked the men to mount the stairs. We were going to get these Belgians to tell us some tales.

I mounted up first, followed by Michael and then the rest. Once on top, I peeked over the stairs to see who we were against. I counted six soldiers but four of them were asleep. There was a small fire there on the upper level and the two sentries were crouched over the fire.

I signaled back to the men and pointed to the bayonet. They clicked their bayonets before signaling me they were ready.

I tapped Michael’s shoulder and we both alighted up the stairs in a rush. The sentries saw us but we had our bayonet into their chest before they could shout. The rest came up and did the same for the sleeping ones, but leaving one for our prisoner. We grabbed him and clubbed him to unconsciousness. I was about to move when the others stopped me.

"Unteroffizier", they showed me the food on the floor and two of them were already grabbing it into their shirt. There were meat and fruits; it was more than what we can get in a week those days. I approved their action to take the stuff and then we half carried the Belgian prisoner out of the house. We made it back to the river and onto our raft. We dropped the Belgian which we had tied with ropes onto the raft. We got back into the cold water and swam across.

The bullets came but not from the Belgian but our side. They thought we were Belgian and we had to wave our hands for them to stop.

“We are your brothers.” We called out in German. It stopped the shooting but I lost one man in the shooting. I presented the Belgian to the Hauptmann.

"Did you get his rank, Unteroffizier?"" I shook my head and the Hauptmann just smiled. "You have done a brave job, Sergeant. I am promoting you but subject to the Oberst approval."

I nodded and felt that I am getting out of my rut of the lower ranks.