1 September, 1914
THE ACCOUNT OF L BATTERY
An Epic of the Great Retreat
The story of one of the outstanding actions of the early days of the war, the artillery and cavalry stand at Néry, 1 September, 1914, is told by Gunner Darbyshire, of L Battery. Of the characters in this story Captain Bradbury was awarded a posthumous VC; Sergeant Nelson and Battery Sergeant-Major Dorrell were awarded VCs, and the author of this narrative and Driver Osborne received the highest French decoration for bravery in the field, the Médaille Militaire.
Driver Drane, in the 1930s, who was at Néry serving with L Battery, RHA, is seen here placing a wreath on one of the battery’s guns at the Imperial War Museum to commemorate the anniversary of the action.
2nd Dragoon Guards (Queen’s Bays).
All through the retreat we had been fighting heavily, and throughout the day on 31 August we fought till four o'clock in the afternoon; then we were ordered to retire to Compiègne. It was a long march, and when we got to Néry, near Compiègne, early in the evening, both horses and men were utterly exhausted.
Outposts were put out by the officers, and the cavalry who were with us, the 2nd Dragoon Guards (Queen’s Bays), were in a small field on the side of a road which was opposite to us. That road was really a deep cutting, and I want you to bear it in mind, because it largely proved the salvation of the few survivors at the end of the fight.
Having made all our dispositions, we went to sleep and rested till half-past three in the morning, when we were roused and told to get ready to march at a moment’s notice. We breakfasted and fed the horses and expected to be off again, but the battery was ordered to stand fast until further notice.
Sergeant Major Dorrell thought that this would be a good opportunity to water the horses, so he ordered the right half-battery to water, and the horses were taken behind a sugar factory which was a little distance away. The horses were watered and brought back and hooked into the guns and wagons; then the left half-battery went to water. Everything was well, it seemed, and we were now expecting to move off. A ridge about 600 yards away was, we supposed, occupied by French cavalry, and a general and orderly retreat was going on in our rear. Then, without the slightest warning, a ranging shot was dropped into the battery, and we knew instantly that the German gunners were on us.
British 13 pdr gun crew during the Retreat.
Immediately after this round was fired the whole place was alive with shrapnel and machine-gun bullets, and it was clear that the battery was almost surrounded by German artillery and infantry. As a matter of fact the French cavalry had left their position on the ridge before daybreak, and a strong German force, with ten guns and two machine guns, had advanced under cover of the mist and occupied the position, which was an uncommonly good one for artillery.
A German battery about to open fire.
Under fire: an air burst rains shrapnel down on these British troops. One man, centre, receives a shrapnel wound to the head.
Captain E.K. Bradbury was awarded the Victoria Cross postumously for his actions at Néry.
The very beginning of the German fire caused havoc amongst the battery and the Bays, and the losses amongst the horses were terrible and crippling. ‘Who'll volunteer to get the guns into action?’ shouted Captain Bradbury.
Every man who could stand and fight said ‘Me!’ and there was an instant rush for the guns. Owing to heavy losses in our battery I had become limber gunner, and it was part of my special duty to see to the ammunition in the limbers. But special duties at a time like that don’t count for much; the chief thing is to keep the guns going, and it was now a case of everyone striving his best to save the battery.
The guns were ready for marching not for fighting, which we were not expecting; half the horses were away, many at the guns were killed or wounded, and officers and men had suffered fearfully, in the course literally of a few seconds, after the ranging shot dropped among us.
The first gun came to grief through the terrified horses bolting and over-turning it on the steep bank of the road in front of us; the second gun had the spokes of a wheel blown out by one of the very first of the German shells; the third was disabled by a direct hit by a shell which killed the crew; the fourth was left standing, though the wheels got knocked about and several holes were made in the limber and all the horses were shot down. The fifth gun was brought into action, but was silenced by the crew being killed, and the sixth gun, our own, remained the whole time, though the side of the limber was blown away, the wheels were severely damaged, holes were blown in the shield, and the buffer was badly peppered by shrapnel shards.
British 13 pdr gun crews, men and horses, cut down during the withdrawal from Mons.
In a shell fire that was incessant and terrific, accompanied by the hail of bullets from the Maxims, we got to work.
German Maxim 08 gun team in action.
The 13-pounders of the Royal Horse Artillery can be fired at the rate of fifteen rounds a minute, and though we were not perhaps doing that because we were short-handed and the limbers were about thirty yards away, still we were making splendid practice, and it was telling heavily on the Germans. As the mist melted away we could see them plainly – and they made a target which we took care not to miss.
As soon as we got No. 6 gun into action I jumped into the seat and began firing, but so awful was the concussion of our own explosions and the bursting German shells that I could not bear it for long. I kept it up for about twenty minutes, then my nose and ears were bleeding because of the concussion, and I could not fire any more, So I left the seat and got a change by fetching ammunition.
Immediately after I left the seat, Lieutenant Campbell, who had been helping with the ammunition, took it, and kept the firing up without the loss of a second of time. But he had not fired more than a couple of rounds when a shell burst under the shield. The explosion was awful, and the brave young officer was hurled about six yards away from the very seat in which I had been sitting a few seconds earlier. He lived for only a few minutes.
When I felt a little better I began to help Driver Osborne to fetch ammunition from the wagons. I had just managed to get back to the gun, with an armful of ammunition, when a lyddite shell exploded behind me, threw me to the ground and partly stunned me.
When I came round I got up and found that I was uninjured. On looking round, however, I saw that Captain Bradbury, who had played a splendid part in getting the guns into action, had been knocked down by the same shell that floored me and was mortally wounded. Though the captain knew that death was very near, he thought of his men to the last, and begged to be carried away so that they should not be upset by seeing him, or hearing the cries which he could not restrain.
In this painting by Matania, Captain Bradury, Sergeant Major Dorell and Sergeant Nelson are depicted operating F Gun during the fighting.
By this time our little camp was an utter wreck. Horses and men were lying everywhere, some of the horses absolutely blown to pieces; wagons and guns were turned upside down, and all around was ruin caused by the German shells. Nearly all the officers and men were either dead or wounded.
The Germans had ten of their guns and two machine guns going, and it is simply marvellous that every man and horse in our battery was not destroyed. Not all the German artillery consisted of field guns: they had big guns with them, and they fired into us with the simple object of wiping us out.
It was not many minutes after the fight began in the mist when only No. 6 gun was left in the battery, and four of us survived to serve it – the Sergeant-Major (who had taken command), Sergeant Nelson, myself and Driver Osborne – and we fired as fast as we could in a noise that was now more terrible than ever, and in a little camp that was utter wreckage. It was not long before we managed to silence several German guns. But very soon Sergeant Nelson was severely wounded by a bursting shell, and that left only three of us.
CAVALRY'S FINEST WORK
The Bays’ horses, like our own, had been either killed or wounded or had bolted, but the men had managed to get down on the right of us and take cover under the steep bank of the road; from that position, which was really a natural trench, they fired destructively.
British cavalry, dismounted, did some glorious work in the Great War, but they did nothing finer, I think, than their work near Compiègne on that September morning. And of all the splendid work there was none more splendid than the performance of a lance-corporal who actually planted a machine gun on his own knees and rattled into the Germans with it. There was plenty of kick in the job, but he held on gamely, and he must have done heavy execution with his six hundred bullets a minute.
By the time we had practically silenced the German guns, the three of us who were surviving were utterly exhausted. Osborne, who was kneeling beside a wagon wheel, had a narrow escape from being killed. A shell burst between the wheel and the wagon body, tore the wheel off and sent the spokes flying all over the place. One of the spokes caught Osborne just over the ribs and knocked him over.
Sergeant Major G. Dorrell VC.
Sergeant D. NelsonVC.
Following the destruction of the British guns of L Battery at Néry the British cavalry counter-attacked driving the Germans back. Here men of the 2nd Dragoon Guards (Queen’s Bays) have just captured some prisoners.
A captured horse belonging to the 9th Uhlans is inspected by a British officer. The 9th Uhlan Regiment (2nd Pomeranian) was on the right flank of the German attack at Néry.
The three of us had served the gun and kept it in action till it was almost too hot to work, and we were nearly worn out. But we went on firing, and with a good heart, for we knew that the Germans had been badly pounded, that the Bays had them in a grip, and that another battery of horse-gunners was dashing to the rescue. On they came in glorious style. There is no finer sight than a horse battery galloping into action.
Two or three miles away from us, I Battery had heard the heavy firing and knew that something must be happening to us. Round they turned, and on they dashed, taking everything before them and stopping for nothing till they reached a ridge about 2,000 yards away; then they unlimbered and got into action, and never was there grander music heard than that which greeted the three of us who were left in L Battery when the saving shells of I screamed over us and put the finish to the German rout.