There was no need for language, as
courtesy and gratitude are universal, and the English were fighting
for "La Belle France." So the morning wore on.
Through the forested region of Crecy the British passed, and it has
been told hereinbefore how they surprised the two cavalry commands
thrust out as scouts by General von Kluck. But, as they reached
the land that had been occupied by the German hosts, the bearing
of the men changed, even as the country changed. The simple homes
of the peasants were in ashes, every house that had showed traces
of comfort had been sacked or gutted with fire. Between noon and
three o'clock in the afternoon of that day three burned churches
were passed. The songs stopped. A black silence fell upon the ranks.
Bloody business was afoot.
It was in the middle of the afternoon, a slumbrous harvest afternoon,
that a big gun boomed in the distance, and the shell shrieked dolefully
through the air, its vicious whine ceasing with a tremendous sudden
roar as it burst behind the advancing British lines. On the instant,
Sir John French's batteries almost wiped out the German cavalry,
and ten minutes had not elapsed before the full artillery on both
sides had begun a terrific fire that was stunning to the senses.
Under cover of their own fire, the British infantry advanced and
hurled themselves against the outer line of General von Kluck's
Second Army.
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