Free Blood and Thunder by Alexandra J Churchill Page A

walked alongside his frequently broken motorcycle. ‘War is in fact one colossal stink of dead horse … decay and corruption of every kind – broken harnesses … helmets cast away and utter desolation,’ he told his father. ‘We proceeded with the [stench] of this destruction in our nostrils for a few days till the rains began and then all turned to mud.’
    For two weeks the BEF had fled towards the Marne, fighting small rearguard actions, and it was reasonable to think that, with the German forces now retreating the other way, that it would continue in reverse. By 12 September the BEF had pursued the enemy back to the Aisne itself where miserable downpours had begun swelling the river and the Germans had dug in. Slopes on both sides of the river were covered in wooded areas and foliage that masked movements and troop dispositions. As British and French troops arrived it was unclear whether or not the enemy had left men back to delay them or had thrown everything available into halting their retreat.
    Steep hills faced the British troops on the opposite side of the river and more German troops were on their way. Although the armies of von Kluck and von Bülow were not entirely at home in these hurried positions, strung out with gaps in their lines, they possessed heavy artillery with a clear field of fire down to the river where they had already destroyed bridges and crossings. Far from fighting another quick action on the way north, the Kaiser’s men had resolved to stay put. What the British Expeditionary Force was seeing were the beginnings of trench warfare and it was to exact a heavy toll on the ranks of Old Etonians beginning to line the banks of the River Aisne.
    On 12 September the 9th Lancers were shattered by the cruel loss of Douglas Lucas Tooth. Campbell freely referred to him as his ‘most trusted leader’. In private, the sentiment was that the Ninth had ‘lost a leader, in whom they had the greatest confidence and belief’. He was experienced, highly competent and universally respected from the ranks of trooper to brigade commander, but his regiment would have to continue without him.
    At 2 a.m. the following day the Ninth was roused to begin the action which Sir John French hoped would conclude with the successful capture of the Chemin des Dames, a road running east to west accross the river along a high ridge that was famous as being a prominent route travelled by two daughters of Louis XV. Rivy Grenfell, still without his twin, was amongst elements of the regiment that set out, to cross the Aisne, along with the Harvey brothers. Through the town of Vendresse they climbed on to Troyon, a scattering of cottages and farms overlooked by a dominating plateau. A road wound out of the little hamlet and passed the only landmark in the vicinity, a sugar factory. With high, solid walls and an imposing chimney ideal for observation, the enemy had made it central to their defences in the area. Trenches now branched out from the factory, and artillery batteries had been wheeled into place on either side of the site. Machine guns and troops were ready to drive back any unwanted visitors. It was abundantly clear to the British that any advance to the Chemin des Dames would eventually require the capture of this stronghold.
    But another hammer blow was about to fall on the Ninth less than twenty-four hours after Lennie and Douglas Harvey had lost their Squadron Leader. The objective that they had been given was in fact a mile or so behind enemy lines. Without Lucas, the squadron managed to veer off down a stray path and away from the main road. Rivy Grenfell, following with more men, was left exposed and rode right into the path of the enemy. Dismounting, he took a section and bravely went forward, securing a position behind a haystack. He was in good humour, cracking jokes with his men when he was suddenly exposed to enemy fire. The last words his men remembered were