_Chapter XIX_
THE ASSAULT ON HILGARD
It was three o'clock in the morning. Only from the left wing of Fowler'sDivision was the booming of cannon occasionally heard. From themountain-pass above came the noise of passing trains, the clash ofcolliding cars and the dull rumble of wheels. On the right all wasstill.
A low whistle went through all the trenches! And then the regimentsintended for the assault on Hilgard crept slowly and carefully out ofthe long furrows. The front ranks carried mattresses, straw-bags, planksand sacks of earth to bridge the barbed wire barricades in case theyshould not succeed in chopping down the posts to which the wires werefastened. A few American batteries behind La Grande began firing. Theother side continued silent.
Suddenly two red rockets rose quickly one after the other on the rightnear the mountain, and they were followed directly by two blue ones;they went out noiselessly high up in the air. Was it a signal of friendor foe? The regiments came to a halt for a moment, but nothing furtherhappened, except that the two searchlights beyond Hilgard kept theireyes fixed on the spot where the rockets had ascended. A dog barked inthe town, but was choked off in the middle of a howl. Then death-likestillness reigned in front once more, but several cannon thundered inthe rear and a few isolated shots rang out from the wooded valleys onthe left.
The front ranks had reached the wire barricades. Suddenly a sharp cryof pain broke the silence and red flames shot forth from the ground,lighting up the posts and the network of wires. Several soldiers wereseen to be caught in the wires, which were apparently charged withelectricity. Now was the time! The pioneers provided with rubber glovesto protect them against the charged wires went at it with a vengeance,and were soon hacking away with their axes. Loud curses and cries ofpain were heard here and there. "Shut up, you cowards!" yelled some onein a subdued voice. The black silhouettes of the men, who were tossinglong boards and bags of earth on top of the wires, stood out sharplyagainst the light of the explosives with which the Americans wereattempting to loosen the supporting posts.
Diagram of the Battle of Hilgard]
The light of the dancing flames fell on swaying, leaping figures.Shots rang out constantly, millions of sparks flew all around andthrough all the din could be distinguished the short, sharprattatattatt--rrrrr--rattatattatt of the machine-guns, sounding morelike cobble-stones being emptied out of a cart than anything else.
Hell had meanwhile broken loose on the other side. The attackingregiments were exposed to a perfectly terrific rifle-fire from thehouses and streets of Hilgard, which was accompanied by a destructivecannonade. But on they went! Over the corpses of the slain who hadbreathed their last jammed in among the deadly wires, over the swayingplanks and through the gaps made by the exploding bombs, the battalionsswept on with loud shouts of Hurrah! What mattered it that themachine-guns, which they had brought along, were sometimes draggedthrough furrows of blood! On they went! The field-batteries to the rightand left of the first houses and two of the enemy's machine-guns just infront of the barricade were in the hands of the 28th Regiment, and nowthey advanced against the houses themselves. But it was utterlyimpossible to get a foot further. A whole battalion was sacrificedbefore the high barricade at the entrance to the main street, but stillthey went on! There were no storming-ladders, and after all they werehardly needed, for human pyramids were speedily run up against thewalls, and up these soldiers scrambled, assisted from below, until atlast they were high enough to shoot into the loop-holes. Others aided inthe work with axes and the butt-ends of their guns, and before long theAmericans had gained possession of several houses. All of the enemy'ssearchlights concentrated their glare on the town, so that the fightingwas done in a brilliant light. The white top of the church-tower seemedstrangely near, while reddish-gold reflections played on the torn copperroof.
But no reenforcements came from the rear, and it was no wonder, for afurious fire from the enemy's artillery and machine-guns swept acrossthe space in front of Hilgard, raining bullets and balls upon thetrenches, out of which new battalions climbed again and again; the shotsplowed up the land into glowing furrows and created an impassablefire-zone between the trenches and the nearest houses of Hilgard, whenceshrieking bugle-calls begged for immediate assistance. If the enemyshould succeed in throwing reenforcements into Hilgard, he would have nodifficulty in dislodging the Americans from the positions they had won.Suddenly an attack from the wooded valley on the left at last broughtrelief. It was the Irish brigade under General O'Brien that came on likea whirlwind, quite unexpectedly, and joined in the fight.
This attack threw back the advancing Japanese reenforcements. Theregiments could be seen retreating in the pale light of dawn, and thenthey were seen to form in line on the rising ground behind. Betweenthem and the rear of the town lay the Irish sharpshooters, who wentforward by leaps and bounds. But the furious artillery fire from theenemy brought the fighting temporarily to a stand-still.
Wild confusion reigned on all sides as dawn broke. The 17th JapaneseInfantry Regiment was still battling with the two American regiments forthe possession of the front houses of Hilgard, and the two Japanesebattalions in the rear of the town directed their fire on the compactcolumns of the Third Irish Regiment, which had not yet been formed intoline for shooting. It was a critical moment, and everything dependedupon the rapidity with which the Japanese resistance in Hilgard could beovercome.
In the houses and on the illuminated streets a furious hand-to-handencounter was going on, the men rushing at one another with bayonets andthe butt-ends of their guns. No effort was made to keep the men orregiments together. Where the weapons had been destroyed or lost in themad scramble, the soldiers fought like gorillas, tearing one another'sflesh with teeth and nails. On all sides houses were on fire, and thefalling beams and walls, the bursting flames, the showers of descendingsparks, and the bursting shrapnels killing friend and foe alike, createdan indescribable jumble.
At last reenforcements arrived in the shape of a regiment which had lostmore than half its men in passing through the fire-zone in front ofHilgard.
"Where is Colonel Johnson?"
"Over there, on the other side of the street."
"A prisoner?" asked some one.
"I guess not, they're not making prisoners and we aren't either."
Slowly it grew lighter.
The Irish in the rear of Hilgard had hard work to maintain theirposition. To dislodge the enemy, it was absolutely necessary to turn hisflank; otherwise there was no chance of advancing further. Each line ofsharpshooters that leaped forward was partially mowed down by theterrible machine-guns. The enemy didn't budge an inch.
General O'Brien had already dispatched five orderlies to Fowler'sdivision with instructions to attack the enemy from the left, but allfive had been shot down the moment they left their cover. Something hadto be done at once, or the entire brigade would be destroyed.
Suddenly Corporal Freeman, who had crept up along the ground, appearedbeside the General.
"Here, sir," he cried, his face beaming, "here's the connection foryou." And he shoved a telephone apparatus towards O'Brien. He haddragged the connecting wire behind him through the entire fire-zone.
"You must be a wizard!" cried the General, and then seizing theinstrument he called: "Throw all the troops you can possibly get hold ofagainst the right wing of the Japanese in front of us! The enemy'sposition is weakened, but we can't attack the ridge in the front fromhere."
Several minutes passed--minutes pregnant with destruction. The burstingshells thinned the ranks terribly, while the infantry fire continued tosweep along the ground, but worst of all, the ammunition of the Irishregiments was getting low. Several batteries were planted between theruins of the houses in Hilgard, but even then the enemy did not budge.
Then came a great rush from the left: Cavalry, Indian scouts, regularcavalry, cavalry militia, volunteer regiments, and behind them all themachine-guns and the field-artillery--a perfect avalanche of humanbeings and horses wr
apped in thick clouds of smoke from which showers ofsparks descended.
That was our salvation. A wild shout of joy from the Irishmen rose abovethe din of battle, and after that there was no restraining them. Thefront ranks of the cavalry were mown down like sheaves of corn by thebullets of the enemy's machine-guns; but that made no difference, onthey went, on, ever on! Whole regiments were cut to pieces. Hundreds ofsaddles were emptied, but the riders came on just the same, and evenbefore they had reached the Irish sharpshooters, every man who wore thegreen was headed for the ridge almost without waiting for the word ofcommand!
It was an assault the enemy could not possibly repulse. The Irish andthe cavalry were right among their firing lines; a battery galloped upinto the hostile ranks, crushing dead and wounded beneath its wheels.Bloody shreds of flesh were sticking to the gun-barrels, and torn limbsand even whole bodies were whirled round and round in the spokes of thewheels.
Shrill bugle-calls resounded. The horses were wheeled around and thebattery unlimbered. A hostile shell suddenly struck the shaft of thegun-carriage, and in a second the horses were a bloody mass of legswildly beating the air and of writhing, groaning bodies.
But the gun was in position. And now out with the ammunition! Bang! wentthe first shot, which had been in the barrel, and then everybody lent ahand; an Indian scout, bleeding at the shoulder, and an engineer helpedpass the shells, while a mortally wounded gunner shoved the cartridgeinto the barrel.
"Aim up there to the left, near the two detached pine-trees, six hundredyards," roared a lieutenant, whose blood-covered shirt could be seenbeneath his open uniform.
"The two pines to the left," answered the gunner, lying across thebracket-trail. Bang! off went the shot, and a line of Japanesesharpshooters rose like a flock of quail.
More cannon, more machine-guns, more ammunition-carts rushed up in madhaste; the batteries kept up a continual fire.
The battle moved on farther to the front. The houses of Hilgard were allin flames; only the white top of the church-tower still projected abovethe ruins. On the right of the town one column after another marchedpast to the strains of regimental music.
An orderly galloped past, and some one called out to him: "How arethings in front?" "Fine, fine, we're winning!" came the answer, whichwas greeted with jubilant cheers. Gradually the enemy's shots becamescarcer as the battle advanced up the slopes.
Engineers were hard at work getting the streets of Hilgard cleared so asto save the troops the detour round the outside of the town. The burninghouses were blown up with dynamite, and a temporary hospital wasestablished near the city, to which the wounded were brought from allparts of the battle-field.
By noon Hilgard was sufficiently cleared to allow the 36th MilitiaRegiment (Nebraska) to pass through. On both sides of the streets weresmoking ruins filled with dead and dying and charred remains. The stepsof the battalion sounded strangely hollow as the first company turnedinto the square where the white church still stood almost intact in themidst of the ruins. A wounded soldier was calling loudly for water.
What was that? Were the bells tolling? The soldiers involuntarilysoftened their step when they heard it. Yes, the bells were tolling,slowly at first and low, but then the peals rang out louder and louderuntil a great volume of sound burst through the little windows in thewhite church-spire. Ding--dong, ding--dong----
The flag-bearer of the first company lowered his flag and the soldiersmarched past in silence. The captain rode over to the entrance to thetower and looked in. A little boy, about ten years old, was tugging andstraining at the heavy bell-ropes. There seemed to be a number ofwounded soldiers in the church, as loud groans could be heard throughthe half-open door.
The captain looked about him in astonishment. Near a post he saw twoJapanese, presenting a fearful spectacle in the convulsions of death.Close to them lay an American foot-soldier, writhing with pain from abayonet-wound in the abdomen; and over in the farther corner he coulddistinguish a woman, dressed in black, lying on a ragged mattress.Ding--dong, ding--dong, rang the bells up above, but the noise of battledid not penetrate here.
"What are you doing, sonny?" asked the captain.
"I'm ringing the bells for mother," said the little fellow.
"For mother?"
"General," called a weak voice from the corner, "please let the boyalone. I want to hear our bells just once more before I die."
"What's the matter, are you wounded?" asked the captain.
"I feel that I'm dying," was the answer; "a bullet has entered my lung;I think it's the lung."
"I'll send you a doctor," said the captain, "although we----"
"Don't bother, general; it wouldn't do any good."
"How did you get here?"
"My husband," came the answer in a weak voice, "is lying across thestreet in our burning home. He was the minister here in Hilgard. Theselast days have been fearful, general; you have no idea how fearful.First they shot my husband, and then our little Elly was killed by apiece of shell when I was running across the street to the church withher and the boy." She paused a moment, and then continued with growingagitation: "It's enough to make one lose faith in the wisdom of the Lordto see this butchery--all the heartrending sorrow that's created in theworld when men begin to murder one another like this. You don't realizeit in the midst of the battle, but here-- And as God has seen fit tospare His church in the battle, I asked the boy to ring the bells oncemore, for I thought it might be a comfort to some of those dying outthere to hear a voice from above proclaiming peace after these awfuldays. Let him keep on ringing, general, won't you?"
"Can I help you in any way?" asked the captain.
"No, only I should like some water."
The captain knelt down by the side of the poor, deserted woman andhanded her his flask.
She drank greedily, and then thanked him and began to sob softly. "Whatwill become of my boy? My poor husband----"
"My good woman," said the captain, forcing himself to speak bluntly,"it's not a question of this boy, or of a single individual who hasfallen in battle, but rather of a great people which has just defeatedthe enemy. The widows and orphans will be taken care of by thesurvivors, now that the Lord has given us the victory. Those who arelying outside the town and those here have surrendered their lives fortheir country, and the country will not forget them."
Ding--dong, ding--dong, went the bells as the captain left the church,deeply affected. Ding--dong, ding--dong. Thousands out on thebattle-field in the throes of death, and the many unfortunates lyingwith broken limbs in the burning houses and watching the flamescreeping towards them, heard that last call from on high, like a callfrom God, Who seemed to have turned away from our people.
And then evening came, the evening of the sixteenth of August, which isrecorded with bloody letters on the pages of our country's history. Soonall the reserves were engaged in battle. Our splendid regiments couldnot be checked, so eager were they to push forward, and they succeededin storming one of the enemy's positions after the other along themountain-side. At last the enemy began to retreat, and the thunder ofthe cannon was again and again drowned in the frenzied cheers. GeneralMacArthur was continually receiving at his headquarters reports of freshvictories in the front and on both wings.
The telegraph wires had long ago spread the glad tidings over the lengthand breadth of the land. Great joy reigned in every town, the Stars andStripes waved proudly from all the houses, and the people's hearts werefluttering with exultation.
General MacArthur, whose headquarters were located near Hilgard, waswaiting for news of Fowler's Division, which had orders to advance onthe pass through the valleys on the left wing. They were to try andoutflank the enemy's right wing, but word was sent that they had metwith unexpected resistance. It appeared, therefore, that the enemy hadnot yet begun to retreat at that point.
On the other hand, things were going better in the center. But what wasthe good of this reckless advance, of this bold rush, which builtbridges of human bod
ies across the enemy's trenches and formed livingladders composed of whole companies before the enemy's earthworks--whatwas the good of all this heroic courage in the face of Marshal Nogi'srelentless calculations? He was overjoyed to see regiment afterregiment storm towards him, while from his tent he gave directions forthe sharp tongs of the Japanese flanks to close in the rear of GeneralMacArthur's army.
About seven o'clock in the evening the surprising news came from theright wing that the batteries which had begun firing on the enemy'slines retreating along the railway line were suddenly being shelled fromthe rear, and begged for reenforcements. But there were no reservesleft; the last battalion, the last man had been pushed to the front! Howdid the enemy manage to outflank us?
Imploringly, eagerly, the telephone begged for reenforcements, forbatteries, for machine-guns, for ammunition. The transport section ofthe army service corps had been exhausted long ago, and all theammunition we had was in front, while a wide chasm yawned between thefighting troops and the depots far away in the blue distance. GeneralMacArthur had nothing left to send.
And now from Indian Valley came the request for more machine-guns, butthere wasn't one left. General MacArthur telegraphed to Union, theterminus of the field-railway, but the answer came that no assistancecould be given for several hours, as the roadbed had first to berepaired. From Toll Gate, too, came stormy demands for moreammunition--all in vain.
And then, at eight o'clock, when the sun had sunk like a ball of fire inthe west, and the Blue Mountains, above which hovered puffs of smokefrom the bursting shrapnel, were bathed in the golden evening light andthe valley became gradually veiled in darkness, the crushing news camefrom Baker City that large, compact bodies of Japanese troops had beenseen on the stretch of broken-down railroad near Sumpter. Soonafterwards Union reported the interruption of railway communicationwith the rear and an attack with machine-guns by Japanese dismountedcavalry, while Wood's division in the front continued to report thecapture of Japanese positions.
With relentless accuracy the arms of the gigantic tongs with which Nogithreatened to surround the entire Army of the North began to close. TheAmerican troops attacking both flanks had not noticed the Japanesereserves, which had been held concealed in the depressions and shallowvalleys under cover of the woods. Two miles more to the right and left,and our cavalry would have come upon the steel teeth of the huge tongs,but there was the rub: they hadn't gone far enough.
About ten o'clock in the evening Baker City, which was in flames, wasstormed by the Japanese, Indian Valley having already fallen into theirhands. The attack in front, high up in the mountains, began to waver,then to stop; a few captured positions had to be abandoned, and down inthe valley near La Grande, whence the field-hospitals were being removedto the rear, the ambulances and Red Cross transports encountered thetroops streaming back from Baker City. One retreating force caught upwith the other, and then night came--that terrible night of destruction.Again the cannon thundered across the valley, again the machine-gunsjoined in the tumult, while the infantry fire surged to and fro.
You may be able to urge an exhausted or famished troop on to a finalassault, you may even gain the victory with their last vestige ofenergy, their last bit of strength, provided you can inspire them withsufficient enthusiasm; but it is impossible to save a lost cause withtroops who have been hunted up and down for twenty-four hours and whosenerves are positively blunt from the strain of the prolonged battle.
The exhausted regiments went back, back into the basin of the BlueMountains, into a flaming pit that hid death and destruction in itsmidst. The headquarters, too, had to be moved back. General MacArthurlost his way in the darkness, and, accompanied by a single officer, rodeacross the bloody battle-field right through the enemy's line of fire.
He soon ran across a cavalry brigade belonging to Longworth's division,and at once placed himself at its head and led an onslaught on aJapanese regiment. A wild _melee_ ensued in the darkness, and, althoughonly a few hundred riders remained in their saddles, the attack hadcleared the atmosphere and the wavering battalions gained new courage.
General MacArthur ordered a retreat by way of Union, employing Wood'sdivision, which was slowly making its way back to Hilgard, to cover theretreat. Regiment after regiment threatened to become disbanded, andonly the determined action of the officers prevented a general rout. Thedecimated regiments of Wood's division stood like a wall before theruins of Hilgard; they formed a rock against which the enemy's troopsdashed themselves in vain. In this way Fowler's and Longworth'sdivisions succeeded in making a fair retreat, especially as the enemy'sstrength was beginning to become exhausted. The uncertainty of a nightattack, when the fighting is done with bandaged eyes, as it were, and itbecomes impossible to control the effect of one's own firing,contributed also towards weakening the Japanese attacks. The thin linesof hostile troops from Baker City and from the north, which hadthreatened to surround our army, were pierced by the determined assaultsof the American regiments; and although our entire transport service andnumerous guns remained in possession of the enemy, our retreat by way ofUnion was open.
At dawn on the seventeenth of August the remains of Wood's divisionbegan to leave Hilgard, which they had so bravely and stubbornlydefended, the heroes retreating step by step in face of the enemy'sartillery fire.
General MacArthur stopped just outside of Union and watched theregiments--often consisting only of a single company--pass in silence.He frowned with displeasure when he saw Colonel Smeaton riding alone inthe middle of the road, followed by two foot-soldiers. The colonel wasbleeding from a wound in his forehead.
General MacArthur gave spurs to his horse and rode towards the colonel,saying: "Colonel, how can you desert your regiment?"
Colonel Smeaton raised himself in his stirrups, saluted, and said: "Ihave the honor to report that only these two, Dan Woodlark and AbrahamBent, are left of my regiment. They are brave men, general, and Iherewith recommend them for promotion."
The general's eyes grew moist, and, stifling a sigh, he held out hishand to Colonel Smeaton: "Forgive me," he said simply, "I did not intendto hurt your feelings."
"Nonsense!" cried the colonel. "We'll begin over again, general, we'llsimply start all over again. As long as we don't lose faith inourselves, nothing is lost."
Those were significant words spoken that seventeenth day of August.