In Flanders Flooded Fields
Page 28
The North Vaart Gates seen on the tidal (downstream) side. At low tide a visual inspection is made of the piers, the columns and the lift doors. Notice the inland water jetting through the cracks. Slowly throughout the war the doors and columns, one after another, would be dislodged, then destroyed by enemy bombardments. In the company shop near Furnes, heavy flap doors would then be constructed which, during a lull in the fighting, would be installed on site.
Nieuport 1914–1918, R. Thys, 1922.
Regardless of the risk, he was absolutely convinced that the quickest way to flood the polder was to lift the eight gates of the North Vaart. But to open these gates the military needed the appropriate windlasses to operate the gearboxes and he was the only one still around who knew where they were stored.
With all his jovial persuasiveness Henry somehow managed to convince Captain Commandant Borlon, commanding the engineers’ battalion in Nieuport of the urgency of the matter. And so, late in the evening of 28 October Borlon had a small detachment organized. Accompanied by Geeraert and led by himself, Borlon and his men cautiously headed for the locks. As the bridge on the Furnes Lock had been destroyed they crossed the structure one by one, running stooped across the narrow lock doors on their way to the North Vaart…
With the flood work gaining momentum, it was impossible for Captain Thys to direct all the fieldwork alone. As a result High Command appointed a second assistant to Captain Commandant Jamotte at the Inundation Directorate: Captain Fernand Umé.
The appointment of Umé was not unexpected. Umé and Thys knew each other already quite well. Although two years older than Robert Thys, Fernand Umé graduated from the Royal Military Academy in the same class as Thys. In 1905 they were both assigned to the Engineers’ Regiment but, while Thys left active service in 1909 and went in the reserves, Umé stayed in the army and moved on to head the Pontoneers’ Battalion of the Liège Fortified Place in 1912. A year later he graduated as an electrical engineer at the Montefiore College – today the Liège University – probably again in the same class as Thys. After the outbreak of the war Umé made the retreat from Liège to Antwerp with the Third Army Division, then on to the Yser River.
At the company bomb shelter in La Panne. Captain Umé is the man with his hand over his eyes.
Nieuport 1914–1918, R. Thys, 1922.
Now, on the evening of 28 October at 23:00, Thys travelled from Furnes to Nieuport to explain to his comrade-in-arms what he had already accomplished at the Spanish Lock and what the plans were for the next days.
Upon his arrival at engineer’s headquarters in Nieuport Thys heard to his amazement about the improvised attempt being made by Borlon and Geeraert in front of the friendly lines. This was an alarming development. When Second Lieutenant François had blown up the Furnes Lock Bridge two nights earlier the French troops had abandoned the whole Goose Foot lock complex. Since then it was not known if the Germans had occupied the structures or not.
During the daytime the defenders of Nieuport still had some visual control over what happened in front of their line but it was quite possible that the previous night the enemy had deviously occupied the locks’ platform and the houses of the lock staff dispersed in between. Even if they had not done so yet they would now be close enough to detect any movement, day or night, on the Five-Bridges Road. If one man of the detachment was taken prisoner, or if the Germans just made the right deductions, the whole enterprise could be ruined. Within a short time the road to Dunkirk would be open for the enemy. Or to paraphrase Victor Hugo: the wind would blow the Land of the Belgians onto the cliffs.
The enemy, once master of the North Vaart Gates, only had to open the gates at ebb tide to drain all the water that Thys had so secretly managed to let in. With its superior drainage capacity – 16m wide versus the 5.60m of the Spanish Lock – the Germans could actually drain three times more water from the polder through the eight lift gates than Thys would ever be able to let in! Immediately Thys phoned High Command and before Borlon and his team could start their work the daring escapade was called off.
Once the dust had settled over this unexpected event Thys could finally bring Umé up-to-date about the ongoing flood procedures. Then he could call it a day. Having been on his feet for almost sixty hours Thys badly needed some rest. He returned to his billet in Furnes where he went to bed and slept until 13:30 the next day.
In the early hours of Thursday, 29 October a heavy fog blanketed the Flanders countryside. At the Spanish Lock a third high tide was streaming vigorously through the deep, narrow lock chamber lined by the tall freestone walls. The results inland, visible once the mist had lifted, were still not encouraging: officers and men peeking across the railway levee at Ramscappelle started to discern some sloughs on the land in front of them but once past the village, Pervyse way, the fields were definitely still dry.
After heavy shelling between Boitshoucke and Pervyse the Germans launched yet another assault on the First Army Division but the 4th de Ligne Regiment, holding the line in that spot, was able to throw the enemy back. In the afternoon an even more vigorous attack followed, this time accompanied by a diversionary charge on the Second Army Division near Ramscappelle. The 3rd and again the 4th de Ligne managed to fend off the attackers a second time. Several German batteries were now confirmed as being on the Yser left bank, offering close artillery support to the infantry. It was obvious that the enemy was attempting to break through the Belgian lines more inland, away from the threat of the British Fleet and still far enough from the Pervyse/Dixmude area, where the Belgians were firmly supported by French troops.
The North Vaart Gates, this time seen from the polder. Taking advantage of an unusually low water level in the polder – for that to happen both upstream weirs needed to be closed simultaneously – the foundation floor is checked for cracks. The engineers were always afraid that the numerous explosions in and around the locks would undermine the structures, which would in turn create water seepage and eventually cause a massive cave-in.
Nieuport 1914–1918, R. Thys, 1922.
Hood’s flotilla was ready to take on more distant targets. With the temporarily extended liberty regarding the use of ammunition the Admiral put the 305 and 152-mm guns of the battleship Venerable to good use, especially on the German gun positions between St Georges and Schoorbakke. The sight of the bombarding vessels left a momentous impression on the few troops in reserve relaxing on the beach and in the dunes. The queen best described the fire by the Venerable:
Awful bombardment the whole day, especially by the British ships. We follow the gunnery with binoculars. A new warship has arrived. It looks magnificent in the sun. Its fire is heavier than that of the others and shakes the whole house. Everything is illuminated in the evening by the firing guns.
At 12:30, like the previous day, the station in Furnes received three hits, apparently by 150-mm rounds. More devastating was the bombardment on Pervyse with 320-mm grenades.
On the Nieuport/Dixmude front the French contingent was now being reinforced by three battalions of the 38th Infantry Division. This division had arrived from Dunkirk in the Loo area the previous day but the bulk of its forces was now being directed to the south-east of Loo, across the Ypres Canal.
A pre-war view of the Furnes Lock Gates. Coming from the right Captain Umé, Geeraert and their helpers first needed to cross the gate structure, then the narrow lock doors (hidden from view behind the stairs on the left) and then continue towards the North Vaart Gates. All this at night, in single file and only lightly armed.
Historical prints collection Callenaere-Dehouck.
General d’Urbal for his part expected the Marine Fusiliers Brigade, together with the 3rd Chasseurs d’Afrique, the 8th Chasseurs à cheval and the 6th Hussars to attack from Dixmude and south of it, towards Thourout. The tall General had certainly not lost his aggressive attitude! He still had misgivings about the results of the Belgian flood attempt though and, for that matter, the Belgian military effort in general:
With the looming threat of a German offensive south of Nieuport on the one hand and the poor results of the flood through the Spanish Lock on the other, High Command at 16:00 finally gave in to the ever increasing pressure from everyone to attempt an opening of the abandoned North Vaart Gates regardless the danger of detection by the Germans.
So after dark, at 19:30, Captain Umé and Henry Geeraert crossed the Furnes Lock atop the slippery, narrow doors and made their way to the North Vaart in short spurts, taking cover and halting every so often. With them they again had Corporal Ballon and the soldiers Cop and Van Belle, the three men that had been part of the team that had opened the Spring Sluice on the 21st. To protect the party against a sudden German encounter in no man’s land a platoon of forty Carabineers-Cyclists of the First Army Division, led by Lieutenant Lupsin, had fanned out in front of them and were now hiding in the hedges between the locks. One of the carabineers had at first created some anxiety since he had slipped on the lock doors and had ended up in the water, luckily without serious injury.
With high tide at 21:10 there was no time to waste. The rising water in the channel had already surpassed the vaart level, enabling them to raise the eight double sliding doors immediately. Every move had been discussed beforehand. Geeraert quickly found the windlasses and soon the five men started their nerve-racking work. In the dark they moved from gearbox to gearbox, each time popping the square keyhole of the heavy handle over the corresponding, well-greased shaft protruding from the cast iron box, after which they started cranking frantically.
Henry Geeraert, in greatcoat and with cane, posing at a gearbox on the North Vaart Gates. Soon rows of fascines were installed along the railings to conceal the workings on the lock platform from prying enemy eyes. Later on these were replaced by steel sheet pilings, which gave better protection against enemy rifle fire.
Nieuport 1914–1918, R. Thys, 1922.
Geeraert, this time in uniform with medals and kepi, poses at the North Vaart. The protective sheet piling did apparently not stop every projectile as can be seen in the foreground.
Historical prints collection Callenaere-Dehouck.
Once in a while they whispered a word, then they anxiously looked around. It was hard labour since it took two men to operate one handle in order to lift a door. So each time they stood facing each other, handle in between them and four hands alternately grasping the large stock. Sixteen times over again they repeated the same procedure, slowly raising each door. With their hearts in their mouths and gasping for air they expected the Germans to open fire out of nowhere at any moment.
The gear assemblies worked smoothly but in their excitement the soldiers, sweating in spite of the autumn cold, had the impression that the noise they created could be heard for miles around. Undoubtedly the enemy would realize what was going on and would react fast and furiously. Even though the whole operation took only twenty minutes, to the men on the dark and deserted locks it seemed like hours.
Amazingly no counter-attack erupted from across the river. How many German eyes were following every move? Where was the boche?
In the next four years the doors of the North Vaart would still be raised and lowered numerous times. Left, Henry Geeraert, in the middle, Hector Billemont (killed on 25 June, 1918) and on the right, Sergeant Emile Derouck (wounded 27 November, 1917).
Nieuport 1914–1918, R. Thys, 1922.
Today the North Vaart Gates at night project an almost enchanting vista. In October 1914 it was a place where behind every corner or bush death loomed. In the background on the right, we see the imposing King Albert I monument, erected after the war.
Author’s photo archive.
As each door was raised the water in the North Vaart started to move faster and faster until, over the full width of the structure, the blackish seawater was gushing angrily inland. As swiftly as they had arrived the brave Belgians now retreated through the low vegetation, across the lock doors and lift gates on the Furnes Canal to the relative safety of the friendly lines. The carabineers followed one by one.
With the raising of the doors the entire manoeuvre was not yet finished. Before the tide started to recede the whole procedure had to be reversed, the doors had to be lowered again. For six hours the five ‘inundation sappers’ waited anxiously in the cellar of the abandoned tavern A la nouvelle écluse chez Lobbestal, right in front of the Furnes Lock swing bridge.
Many questions went through their minds. What if the Germans noticed the rushing water? Would they grasp what was happening? Would they retaliate and level the whole area? If the enemy did not react now, would he have set up an ambush when they returned? Even if none of the above happened, would the gear mechanisms work properly to lower the doors safely? Wouldn’t there be a door that would suddenly come crashing down?
Captain Umé himself later confessed: ‘We were sitting there, pale with fear.’
Shortly before midnight the men returned to the North Vaart. Lowering the doors was hopefully somewhat easier since gravity would lend a hand. And from the enemy there wasn’t a whimper. But when Captain Umé was about to give the order to start Geeraert, standing on the landside of the structure, suddenly held him back. He threw a chunk of wood in the water and, noticing it still floated inland he whispered: ‘Captain, wait … not a drop can be enough for those bastards!’
Then one by one the doors were lowered. One after the other the men released the pawl from the ratchet of each gearbox and slowly winched each two metres wide, four metres high, heavy wooden leaf back down.
A massive amount of seawater was trapped in the polder.
NOTES
1. For the rest of the war Colienne would volunteer as a hospital nurse. She would be one of a few brave nurses that would even venture out into the trenches herself to collect the wounded. For lots more on the Belgian Medical Service during the Great War visit Dr. Patrick Loodts’ website: Médecins de la Grande Guerre www.1914-1918.be (in French).
2. We suspect that the queen, in her diary talked about the newly established Fort Louis Hospital, headed by Dr. Paul Derache.
Chapter XV
The Final Rumble in Ramscappelle
On the morning of 30 october pictures taken by aeroplane revealed a first, large slough being formed east of Ramscappelle. It was high time! The whole night the Germans had been bombarding the entire line of defence. Before daybreak eight German regiments attacked on a 10km wide front, from Nieuport to halfway between Pervyse and Dixmude. The blow was especially violent in front of Pervyse and Ramscappelle.
At the level crossing near Pervyse the entire 13th de Ligne Regiment, one battalion of the 10th and a battalion of French Chasseurs resisted gallantly. During the morning hours the failure of the German assault in this spot became apparent by the capture of over 200 prisoners.
Near Ramscappelle the news was not as good. At 07:00 the Germans had reached the railway in force and soon a couple of machine guns had the line in enfilading fire. At the same time the Belgians learned about, and endured, a new terror: hand grenades. With a renewed effort the enemy jumped the tracks and dashed the 400m along the narrow cobblestone road leading straight towards the village church. Here, in the cluster of houses, they were halted by a counter-attack of the remnants of the 5th and 6th de Ligne and the 151st French Regiment.
From 11:00 on an amalgamation of four battalions 1 tried to regain a foothold in the settlement but their initial momentum was broken at the outskirts of the village. Two hundred and fifty metres west of the steeple, past the last house, the Germans had captured a windmill and had immediately installed machine guns in the few small windows and on the garret. Now they could cover a vast area west of the railway with deadly fire.
Together with the machine guns, hidden in the houses along the perimeter of the village, a frontal assault in daylight became impossible.
In the cellars of the Jockveld Farm, 700m south-west of the windmill, the French colonel of the 16th Chasseurs was in charge of organizing a counter-attack. The main problem was that the winding Koolhof Vaart encircled the windmill at a distance of 1,000m. This would force the attackers to concentrate and cross the waterway at the few available narrow bridges. It was an extremely vulnerable point of departure.
The loss of Ramscappelle and the fierce fighting near Pervyse did not boost the king’s morale. The combination of the use of the railway embankment and the flood east of it had seemed a quite viable idea to protect his army and a meagre stretch of national soil from the claws of the invader. Anxiety was once again taking over: was there another retreat in the making? Would he have to leave Belgian territory after all? What would happen to his soldiers once in France? And how would the German Emperor treat the compatriots he had been forced to leave behind?
Admiral Hood meanwhile kept up the shore bombardment. In honour of the French cooperation in the naval force Hood transferred his flag to the brand new French destroyer L’Intrépide. This was in fact the first time in history that a French warship acted as an English flagship without having first been captured!
L’Intrépide and its sister ship L’Aventurier had originally been destined for the Armada Republica Argentina but had been taken over by the French Navy on the wharf on 9 August 1914. They had both joined the French naval complement under the orders of Hood off the Belgian coast in october.