Our Friends Beneath the Sands

by Martin Windrow

  In the 1920s, driving motor vehicles was far from the virtually universal skill that it was to become, and since only Tavernot’s officers had any relevant experience, their men would be sent up to Meknes, one troop at a time, for a six-week basic course in driving and maintenance. When the first, under Lieutenant Lennuyeux, had finished their instruction, they were ordered to drive back to Boudenib in five big, underpowered old Berliet trucks and one White armoured car just out of the repair shop – not vehicles best suited to Moroccan dirt roads.40 The 250-mile journey was supposed to take four days, but in the event it was eight days before a sorry procession approached Boudenib: one Berliet towing the second, the third towing the armoured car far back in the choking dust, and the fourth jerking along on three cylinders in a cloud of blue smoke. The fifth truck had been abandoned 50 miles back, stuck firmly in the broad bed of the Oued Ziz at Er Rachidia. The fledgling crews had been unable even to diagnose the causes of most of the many breakdowns, but like good légionnaires they had improvised as best they could; they used wire to replace missing bolts, soapy water for grease, and rigged a petrol-can high to persuade gravity to do the work of a broken fuel-pump.

  Just ten days later this so-called ‘alert platoon’ and the Boudenib goumiers were ordered out to follow up news of a raiding party. Engine trouble delayed their departure for two hours, and when they reached the Oued Guir ford – at this season almost dry, but very treacherous going – they stuck fast, despite unloading everyone but the drivers to lighten the lorries. Even with ten soldiers pushing and digging-out each Berliet, they were still hopelessly bogged down five hours later. The amused goumiers had long ago left them to it, and in the middle of the night they were still sweating and cursing by the light of acetylene lamps.41

  THE MOUNTED COMPANIES were also on notice to lose their brêles over the next few years, but for the time being they still operated in their traditional way, providing both cross-country patrols and labour gangs in the south-east.42 Feeling themselves to be somewhat special, they lavished proprietorial care on their home posts, which they had either built or greatly improved with their own hands, and life between patrols followed a repetitive but fairly comfortable routine. Any feast-day that provided an excuse – Christmas, Camerone, 14 July, Armistice Day, regimental days – was celebrated enthusiastically with full-dress parades, special meals, camp shows and mule races.

  Although their missions were just as punishing as they had been in the old days in the Sud-Oranais, the mule companies still attracted plenty of volunteers, from the type of men who today would apply for paratroop units and for much the same reasons. Patrols routinely involved marches of up to 40 miles in a 12-hour day, but if an aircraft found them and dropped urgent orders they might have to keep going for up to 18 hours. The usual rhythm of a patrol was three days on the march and one day’s rest, and most were exercises in exhausting monotony. However, as the ambush of General Clavery’s party right over on the Algerian border had proved, occasional raiding parties still ranged far from the untamed Tafilalt or ventured down from the canyons of the southern High Atlas.43

  It may be significant that – unlike many other small fights – a defeat suffered at a spot called Djihani, north-west of Abadla, in October 1929 by half of the Mounted Company/1st REI is hard to find in the Legion’s own literature, which seems to treat it with embarrassed reticence. Following the unrest in the southern Atlas in June that had seen Captain Moras’ company of II/3rd REI besieged at El Bordj, the 1st Foreign’s mule company had been brought across to the Oued Guir after several years of relative monotony in the Sud-Oranais. There is a suggestion that the lieutenant commanding the peloton at Djihani was tactically incompetent, and the word ‘lassitude’ is used in one of the few references. At all events, his half-company suffered 41 casualties; this was a blow to the high reputation of the mule companies and, given the tribal culture of oral exaggeration, a dangerous boost to dissident morale right across the south. One of the consequent recommendations was that machine-gun platoons should be formed within all mounted companies, which suggests that at Djihani the lieutenant must have taken on superior numbers in open terrain. By August 1930, this advice had been followed in the case of Captain Fouré’s 1st (Mounted)/ 2nd REI at Er Rachidia, but it proved to be no panacea.44

  ON THE SOUTH-EASTERN EDGE OF THE HIGH ATLAS, about half way between Er Rachidia and Tinerhir, the Oued Rheris flowing down into the desert supports a few small oases, of which one is Tadirhoust (see Map 23). There were reports of a possible Berber war party installing themselves there on a plateau near the river, and on 30 August Captain Fouré was ordered to accompany the Native Affairs officer from Tarda, Captain Gaulis, in an operation to clear them out. Fouré had about 200 légionnaires (Lieutenants Brenckle’s and Garnier’s half-companies, each with a two-gun MG section under Sergeants Bensel and Haefner respectively). Captain Gaulis also had at least 200 rifles under his own command: some 100 goumiers – half mounted and half on foot – of the 33rd Composite Goum, plus moghaznis from Er Rachidia and some local irregulars. Air support had also been arranged. As always, the senior Native Affairs officer would be in overall command; his goumiers and partisans would carry out the raid while the Legion company simply provided a reserve to cover their withdrawal. Captain Fouré took his company down to Tarda to join Gaulis, and the first elements of the force moved out at 8.45pm for a night march westwards, hoping to catch the Berbers at dawn on 31 August.45

  ON THE MARRHA PLAIN the textures and colours of the ground vary widely, from a fine to a very coarse ‘grind’ and from black through to greys, yellows, pinks, reds and browns; even the colours of the tufts of vegetation differ noticeably over any distance. These changes sometimes occur at intervals of only a few hundred yards, and at about 4.45am on 31 August it was the white colour of the sand that led the scouts to report that they were close to the Oued Rheris and perhaps half-an-hour from Tadirhoust. Captain Gaulis halted the column and turned it back eastwards; since the ground here was absolutely flat, he wanted to get the force under cover before sunrise – first light was already dimly picking out the hills above Tadirhoust to his right. At 5.30am he stopped again south-east of the oasis, masked from it by low sand hills covered with spiny scrub. Gaulis planned to withdraw from west to east after his goumiers had hit the Berber camp, and he placed the Legion company accordingly. The forward half-company under Lieutenant Brenckle (1st and 2nd Platoons) took position on the edge of a rise, facing west and north-west. Captain Fouré and his command group stayed with them; he sent Lieutenant Garnier’s 3rd and 4th Platoons back eastwards to a slight rise about 800 yards behind Brenckle to form a fall-back position, and they were all in place by 5.45am.

  Captain Gaulis advanced westwards with his Goum; he does not seem to have had any up-to-date intelligence about the Berber camp, but he sent his partisans forward to feel for it. Shots were fired, but all they found was one abandoned tent, about 150 sheep and goats and three camels; the irregulars happily herded these beasts eastwards, and kept going for Tarda. Exactly what Captain Gaulis planned to do next is unclear; the shooting had revealed his presence, and the next move was up to the Berbers, wherever they were. At 6am three biplanes appeared and dropped bombs into the palmerie of Tadirhoust, and these were soon replaced by a reconnaissance aircraft. At 6.15am, warriors on foot approached Lieutenant Brenckle’s forward half-company through the uneven ground to the north of them, but were driven off with machine-gun fire. At 6.30am, Captain Gaulis – well to the west of Brenckle – saw many riders about miles south of him and heading eastwards fast. Ten minutes later the recce aircraft dropped a message assuring him that the enemy were in flight to the west and that he could withdraw without worries; in fact what the pilot had seen was large flocks being driven to safety, and tribesmen on foot soon emerged from Tadirhoust and started moving east along Gaulis’ northern flank.

  GAULIS WAS IN DANGER of being cut off from his line of retreat; a deep salient was forming, with he and his goumiers in the
western end of a bag, and hundreds of Berbers advancing eastwards to left and right of him to form its southern and northern sides. However, Fouré’s Legion company was holding the eastern neck open for him; Gaulis ordered his foot goumiers to fall back first, covered by his horsemen. They retreated by alternate bounds, but under increasing fire, and by 7.30am, when Gaulis reached the first rise where Fouré was waiting with Brenckle’s half-company, he had himself been wounded. By this time, first Brenckle’s, then Garnier’s halves of the Legion company had come under attack by hundreds of Berbers advancing from the south-west, west and north, and Garnier’s two Hotchkiss machine guns were giving trouble.

  The foot goumiers reached Brenckle and thickened his firing line; their mounted brothers – several by now unhorsed – took position on his northern flank (the partisans had all fled by now). Captain Fouré had sent his command group back to Garnier’s position; now he suggested forcefully to the wounded Gaulis that the horse goumiers should hold on to this forward rise while Brenckle and the infantry goumiers fell back on Garnier’s hummock, from where they could then, in turn, cover the riders’ retreat. This order ‘could only be carried out in part, due to the difficulty Lieutenants Chauvin and Boulet-Desbaron experienced in controlling their riders’; this seems to mean that the mounted half of 33rd Goum took to their heels. Meanwhile, red flares from the recce aircraft warned Fouré that the Berber riders from the south-west were close to achieving an encirclement.

  He had with him Brenckle’s 100-odd légionnaires and perhaps 30 of Lieutenant Cède’s foot goumiers, plus two machine guns; nearly half a mile behind him were Garnier’s half-company and Warrant Officer Szencovics’ command group, about 110 men, with the other two guns. Both halves of the little command were under direct attack and in danger of being surrounded. Fouré’s only chance was to get them reunited on Garnier’s position, and then to attempt a fighting retreat towards Tarda – about 18 miles to the east over open, rolling ground. Brenckle’s mules and the heavily burdened 1st Machine Gun Section would have to lead the way back to Garnier. At 7.40am, Fouré gave the order for 1st and 2nd Platoons to ‘unhook’, and what would be recorded as the combat of Bou Leggou began its degeneration into a life-or-death race.

  THE BERBERS RUSHED FORWARDS to occupy the rise as soon as Brenckle’s men left it, and while under fire from behind the légionnaires had to use their carbines against tribesmen trying to cut them off from the flanks. As they retreated, they were at first too far from Garnier’s men to be protected by any effective covering fire. The wounded Private Abandiolli was boosted up on to Private Eisenberger’s back until they caught up with the mules and put him into a saddle, but he could not control the beast, and was last seen lying on the ground fixing his bayonet. Two other men were also wounded before Brenckle reached Garnier’s position. Despite the fire of

  Garnier’s 2nd Machine Gun Section and two platoon LMGs, the Berbers came within 100 yards from several directions, and Fouré had to get the company moving again almost as soon as the last men arrived. He pointed out the edge of a broad plateau about another 800 yards east as the next rallying point, and sent Garnier’s 3rd and 4th Platoons back first with both the machine-gun sections.

  Keeping a grip on a retreat by the fire and movement of alternating groups is more difficult than it sounds, and at the end of each bound men need a steadying pause – not only to sort out their squads and catch their breath, but to maintain their confidence that this is an orderly, controlled manoeuvre and not a rout. Bou Leggou was always a disciplined retreat, but it seems clear that during this second bound the mutual support of the two halves of the company began to unravel under fast pursuit and relentless attack. Garnier and both machine-gun sections reached the rise and opened covering fire for Brenckle, but the latter’s half-company were unable to join up cleanly. They could not simply follow in the boot-tracks of the first or they would have masked their fire, so they had to spread out to the flanks. In this terrain, occasional hummocks of sand rising a few feet above the stony surface are crowded with leggy, chest-high scrub, and it seems that the rearguard squads began to get separated among such low but distracting features. Lieutenant Cède was wounded, and his surviving handful of foot goumiers became mixed up with the légionnaires. Lieutenant Brenckle was hit in the shoulder, but kept going. When a bullet hit Private Eisenberger in the kidneys there was no one to carry him as he had carried Abandiolli, and he disappeared under a snarl of stabbing tribesmen.

  Ahead of them, the outflanking Berbers came within almost hand-to-hand range of Garnier’s men. The 3rd Platoon’s three-man LMG crew were wiped out, though the gun itself was retrieved, and four other men of the platoon also fell. Sergeant Haefner of Garnier’s 2nd MG Section defended himself with his revolver until he was killed, and Lieutenant Chauvin of the Goum had his brains blown out. Captain Fouré ordered 1st MG Section to rejoin Brenckle’s half-company to give them some firepower, but 1st and 2nd Platoons were no longer clearly visible. During their own scrambling fight 1st Platoon’s LMG crew were also wiped out; those wounded were being shoved up on to mules whenever possible, but not all could be reached in time.

  By about 9.15am the situation was critical for Brenckle’s rearguard half-company. We should imagine them separated into a loose skein of small groups – a dozen men here, twenty there – panting under a merciless sun across a confusing desert landscape of slight rises and dips scattered with patches of thorn-scrub and occasional rock-piles, pausing to fire back at groups of unencumbered Berber riflemen who could run faster than they could and who kept appearing and reappearing from three sides. When defeat becomes undeniable, only infantry of the highest quality can maintain their self-control while falling back under fire – especially if they have to leave their fallen to the knives of their pursuers, which naturally causes a flood of shame. Lieutenant Brenckle, weakened and in pain from his shoulder wound, was on foot with his men, trying to coordinate the fire and movement of groups that by now had become dislocated and whose NCOs lost sight of other squads for minutes at a time. Brenckle’s mule-holders – about a dozen men under Corporal Bourginde, trying to lead nearly 50 animals, some with wounded men in the saddles – were getting mixed up in the fighting as they paused to pick up casualties, and mules, too, were falling under the lash of bullets. Some became uncontrollable with fear as Berbers ran among them, knifing two légionnaires and snatching the carbines that the casualties were carrying.

  The commander of 1st Platoon, Sergeant Chief Cochard, was killed, and Sergeant Leu took over. Seeing that the platoon was about to be overrun, Lieutenant Brenckle ordered 1st MG Section – which had loaded up for another bound backwards – to set up their guns again to support Leu’s dwindling squads. The section had already lost three men, but Privates Muller (wounded in both shoulders) and Lauber (hit in the head) managed to get their Hotchkiss on to its tripod. However, they then found themselves without ammunition – one of their pack-mules had been killed and the other now bolted – so Private Kluschka had to try to pack up the gun again to save it. Sergeant Bensel managed to get the second Hotchkiss into action, although himself under fire from only 100 yards; Privates Zimmermann and Libert fired their last eight cartridge-bands, and this was enough to buy 1st Platoon time to break free.

  The 1st MG Section then had their own difficulties in withdrawing. Kluschka had his gun loaded up when the mule was hit; he had to unpack the Hotchkiss once again, and carry it on his shoulder. Helped by Private Geier, who had been hit in the throat, Kluschka tried to disable the gun as he ran (it should be remembered that the Hotchkiss weighed all of 541bs without its tripod mount). The wounded Lieutenant Brenckle ran up to try to help them; Geier waved him on, but was then hit a second time and killed. Privates Muller and Lauber fell in their turn; carrying the second gun, Zimmermann was at the end of his strength and had tribesmen on his heels. He stopped, smashed the feed block of the Hotchkiss against a rock, and with a last effort threw the bolt assembly to Brenckle.

  At that mo
ment two aircraft swooped over at very low altitude, dropping light bombs and machine-gunning the Berbers, and the shock of this bought the légionnaires a little more time. Lieutenant Brenckle, exhausted by running and loss of blood, tried to mount his horse, but it was hit the moment his boot touched the stirrup; a few yards away his orderly, Private Fumagolli, caught a loose mule for him, but this too was shot. He finally managed to mount a mule given him by Captain Fouré’s orderly, narrowly escaping tribesmen who had paused briefly to examine the wounded animals.

  Meanwhile Brenckle’s 2nd Platoon, on the northern flank of the rearguard, were fighting in two separated groups. Warrant Officer Schoenberger was defending himself with a carbine while carrying two haversacks of LMG magazines – a 40lb load; he and Private Sieger fell behind and both were killed. Sergeant Lay took over the platoon, which then lost two more men. The 2nd MG Section had managed to fall back with the company’s rear mule party, so the four separated platoons were now fighting with carbines alone; the account states that the pressure of pursuit was so close that it would have been a suicidal sacrifice for the two remaining LMG crews to have paused to try to hold off the dispersed parties of tribesmen.

  The company had covered about 5 miles when, at about 9.45am, they faced fresh enemies ahead and on their northern flank. About 20 tribesmen from a submitted clan, camped on the desert, were attracted by the firing to try to cut the retreat in the hope of winning some booty for themselves. Sergeant Lay’s 2nd Platoon beat them off by a ‘superhuman effort’, at the cost of Privates Grabowsky and Barab caught and killed in a shallow dry watercourse.