SECRET OF 1914

Gisborne Times, Volume LXXXIV, Issue 12869, 23 May 1936, Page 9

SECRET OF 1914

THE MAN WHO WON THE WAR. A STORY FROM LIFE.

Once to every writer there conies the perfect story, straight from life.. Hut the great fault of most: stories is 1 heir improbability; it is far simpler to imagiuo a convincing plot than to borrow one from actual facts. Official records do not contain, the vvhoic pi oof of what l am about to tell. The sole legal evidence is buried in a small stone urn on the coast of Flanders. Late on a winter evening in 3927 X was travelling on the Brussels'express. Jt. sped down the dark Ruhr Valley as if frightened by the red flares from the steel furnaces, which threw an infernal glow over mountainous slag heaps. “Looks like hell, doesn’t it?” I remarked to the only other passenger of my compartment, a silent Englishman. “Hell?” The Englshman laughed shortly. “Aye, they turn out . a rather good grade of hell here. Steel for guns and shells!” And then quiet]v. 'as if to himself, “Oh, the fools! Didn’t they get enough of if last time?”

This outburst made me study my companion with new interest. He was perhaps of) years old, his grey eyes keen and friendly. His luggage consisted of a suitcase and a square, paper-wrapped parcel, lying beside him on the seat. “Well.” T said. “America, won’t, he easily dragged in again. This ‘winning the war' turned out to ho expensive.” “Oh?” lie inquired. “So it- was America who won the war, eh?” “Well.” I said innocently, “if we didn’t win the war, who did ? I imagine your guess would be' better than mine.”

After a- short silence. “Do you really ivaut to know ?” he -a shod othh ! v . “T’m not guessing at all. I did. 1 won the war.” There followed an embarrassing pause. I hoped he was harmless. “You're thinking I’m quite marl,” lie said at last. ‘‘'On the contrary.” T replied. “And T should like very much 'to. hear about it.” For a long while he looked at me, through me. “Well, why not?” he asked himself at last, “ft would he rather appropriate. just now. My name is Ho rrer Bradman.” T introduced myself. We shook hands.

Consignment of Kilts

The Spy

“Of course you’ve never heard of the liradman Spy Case, hack in 1010,” lie.began. ‘‘All that would be before your time.” It was. Hut 1 had read of the famous caso in Dr. Spingard’s hook. “Wasn’t that the incident that nearly caused war between Germany and England? Aro you that Bradman?” “Yds,” he nodded. ; “Tlio.Naval ,Jntcllmenco had sent me to Berlin to get the plans of the Heligoland forts. Well, T got them—and then they caught me red-handed. • Naturally England disowned me at -once. And finally, through some other major miracle, tho Germans let hie; go. For a year after that T knocked about the Continent, receiving my expenses from one of the Queen’s messengers. Then in ’LI, when the lid finally blew off, orders came for mo to. return to London, and T was given command ot the Fircdrake. a scouting destroyer on North S’ca Patrol.” , At this point the Englishman reached lor my newspaper • and sketched on it a rough map of the Belgian coast, marking' Ostend and Nieuport and the crooked Yser Jtiver. “As* you remember,” lie pointed with his pencil, “Germany attacked Franco from three directions, southward through the Vosges,; in .the centre along tho Marne, aniP a third army under Von Kluck, smashed through Belgium. Their plan was to converge upon Paris in a series _of swift flanking movements. And they came jolly near doing it, too.. . “After grabbing Antwerp they pushed along to capture the coast towns,. Dunkirk, Calais and Bon ogne. This would have cut off England s Pest, line of communication and also turned tho Allied flank. That would have finished tho war then and there.

German Advance.

“Meanwhile, they had shoved the little Belgian army almost into the Channel. -Retreating day 'after day, hammered to pieces hv heavy [Belgians were at tlie frayed end o their, rope. On the night of October 28 the two armies were' within halt a mile of each other, with the Belgian left flank ending in * the sand dunes of the North Sea a mile below Nieuport, The men were completely done in, standing asleep in their trenches., It was a hopeless situation.? King Albert knew that the Germans would attack again at daybreak. Albert also knew with grim certainty that his exhausted forces could never withstand the attack, . that- if the

THE author of this remarkable story, which, the “Atlnntic Monthly says, has been verified from official British and Belgian sources, alleges that in 1914, when the (icmums v ere advancing through Belgium, the commanden of a-British destroyer landed some eases of: Highland kilts on the shote, induced two companies of Belgian soldiers to wear the .uniforms, and hoodwinked the "German IJ.ijih Command into liolioving* that a Uritish army had landed on the Belgian littoral and: was barring the German advance. ' ■

.Germans broke through it. would he tho end ol the war, for there would be nothing between them and Paris. Shortly after midnight on the 28th, the Belgian King ordered a council of ids staff. When the. men gathered none of .thorn believed there was any possible way out. Finally, in desperation, a. colonel of dragoons offered this last desperate suggestion:— “He proposed that, they send a small patrol of picked men' to the beach on their extreme left; attempt there to overcome the German sentries and then to signal to sea, in hopes that, some part of the British fleet, cruising in the darkness would spot tho signals and come to their rescue by bombarding the German linos with their heavy guns. “This suggestion was accepted as a last resort. Eight men were chosen for tho expedition. They .crept down the shallow trench toward the sand dunes, ready with their bayonets for what they hoped would he a short and silent action.”

Here Bradman paused, picking up the square parcel beside him on the seat.

“They, found the sentry?” 1 prompted .

“Yes, they found him,” Bradman continued grimly, “a'sleep! A. hoy of 20 or so, haggard with - weariness, seated on a driftwood- log, his rifle clutched between his knees. He had taken off his boots to bury bis aching leef in the cool sand, and his- troysers wore rolled up above his knees. One of the officers slugged him with the butt of a revolver. They tied him up. Then in a spot shielded by high sandhills, the Belgians started a fire with driftwood and nil. After they had it. blazing well they threw gunpowder upon it -at intervals, making a sort of recurrent-flare beacon.

“Now this”—he hesitated—“is where J enter. That night the Firedrake was passing tip the Belgian coast, bringing up extra shells, torpedoes, and a few cases, of Scotch whisky to tho fleet. That, is, we thought it was Scotch whisky when we loaded the- crates at Plymouth. Tho boxes were labelled ‘Cameron Highlander.’ the name of a popular brand. But in checking, the stores we discovered that the cases contained uniforms intended for the Ist Cameron Highlanders, somewhere in France. There were ISO .complete, uniforms, kilts, Glengarries, and all. Oh, there were hundreds o.f ridiculous mistakes made in those days. “About 1 in the morning of the 29th pno of our lookouts spotted the fire, on shore. T watched' the flares for a long time, but could make neither head nor tail of them. We thought wo knew the approximate extent of the German advance, hut none of us believed they had pushed this far. Intensely curious about this light-ivhere no light should be, I ordered the ship in closer. One thing was obvious ; someone was signalling to sen. 1 lowered a. small launch, and, with a. dozen sailors, landed a mile below the light. We. advanced cautiously up the beach, until f was Able to mako out the Belgian uniforms. 1 challenged them in. French. “Jove! You’ve never scon such amazement on any men’s faces in your life! When they saw. ns walk into the firelight they rushed forward and threw tlieir arms about us, weeping for joy. It must, have been five minutes before any of- them -was. able, to talk coherently. Finally an officer sketched the battle lines iri the sand. Ho made clear the desperate: situ.n----1 ion. * »Thc Sleeping Sentry.

“I explained that- the Fired rake’s light guns hadn’t the range necessary for off-shore bombardment, At this had news the Belgian major fell silent, I looked away to avoid the anguish in tho poor chap’s eyes, and saw tlio German sentry, lying;on tho sand, like a little boy, with his trousers rolled up and his bare legs stretched out. Ho had recovered consciousness, but. they had gagged him. “I.stared at his knees for a moment and then suddenly I recalled the Highlander uniforms on the Firedrake! Why not turn them over to the Belgians? A company dressed in bright Scottish kilts might alarm the ■battle-weary troops of Von Kluck into thinking that the British had rushed up a fresh, picked division. It. was a psychological trick that might possibly work. Also I could spare them , a crate or two of Lewis guns. I de-; scribed -my plan to the major.. He listened dullv at first, then clutched my arm and cried, Yes? yes! It'is at. least? something! 1 ' “I rushed back to the ship; wo lowered two lifeboats- and ferried;, the uniforms ashore. Meanwhile the Belgians had detailed two companies to meet us at the beach. It was a sight 1 shall never forget—-ISO men changing their clothes around that fire,

■ laughing at the bright red and yellow drills and putting on the caps backAvard so that,the ribbons fell over • their grey, muddied faces. Wo assem•blcd tho Lewis .guns for them.

Ruse Succeeds.

“Tho job was finished about an ; hour before dawn. Wo waited until tho last.'kilted figure had disappeared into the dunes. Then we 'hurried back to tiie hired rake. As we headed out to sea wo heard the first German guns beginning . thcTr barrage. The final day of the first battle of* Flanders had begun—” “Tho day when they stopped the Germans by opening the dikes.of the Yscr,” X said. Tho Englishman nodded. “That’s how they have it in the history books. But it was really the kilts that did it —they and a few machine-guns. The Belgian gunners piled the enemy tliree-deep as they came across tho marshes. Next to Verdun and Gallipoli, it was probably the. ghastliest Slaughter of the Avar. Once or twice tho gunners held their fire until the Germans were near enough to .see the British uniforms. And the heart went out of their attack when they saw they wore confronted hv what seemed to he fresh troops of a crack Scottish regiment. And when, at last, the Belgians opened the lower dikes of the Yser tho battle was over. Front that hour the Allies’ left flank was saved, and to the end nf the war the Germans never came a foot farther through Flanders.”

Tort Years Later.

“But. Good .Lord, man,” X exclaimed, “you never fold anyone about this? No ono ever knew?” "Yes, there was someone else' who know,” lie replied. “One man. Three years ago I was passing that same bit o l coast, and it occurred to me that it had neon 40 years almost to the day, since my. lit tie party on the beach. 1 had a feeling of overpowering curiosity to go hack there and see the beach again. We docked at Antwerp ou the morning of the 29th, and that evening 1 was in Nieuport. At the village hotel there was hut one other guest, a quiet young German. His name was Bechtel—Gunna! Bechtel. We met at dinner.

“Late that evening 1 strolled along the cobbled streets toward the sea. and soon I was on the beach. As .1 walked slowly along the hard sand 1 caught sight of a man seated upon a log. it gave me quite, a start, until, in the moonlight, 1 recognised Bechtel, my fellow lodger. I laughed and called out to him in relief. “Wo sat there, smoking and talking... and finally he asked me what brought me to Nieupbrt in October. I told him this story, exactly as X have told it to you. T. remember when I had finished I felt a hit embarrassed, as if I had talked too much ; so I wound up by saying half jokingly, ‘So you see, Herr Bechtel, X am the original man, who won the war.' “The German laid his hand gently on mv arm. ‘Do you know who X am, my friend?’ he asked quietly. \l am tho man who Inst the war. 1 am the sentry they found a sloop.’ “It was true. For 10 years his ‘sin,’ as he nailed it, had been gnawing at his conscience, driving him nearly mad; and he had hoped in his simple.peasant way that by returning (o the scene of his disgrace he. might conquer tho feeling. Since the war lie had watched all the horrors of revolution, tho starving of his people, and ho had. seen those things as his monstrous crime against the Fatherland. For. Bechtel knew that if only he had been awake that: night the German army would unquestionably have boon in Paris by Christmas;-

A Stone Urn.

“We stood there on that strip of sand in the moonlight, looking at each other, ‘the man who won tho war’ and ‘the man who lost it’. We turned and walked slowly hack along the bench. Tlicro was nothing.to say, nothing at all.” '■. “Have you seen Bechtel since?” I asked.

“No,” replied Bradman. “I never saw him afterwards,” His eyes dropped to the square parcel h.y his side. “Once each year wo wrote. lie worked in an iron foundry near Dortmund. A week, ago he wrote me from a hospital there, saying that there was something he wanted mo to do ’ for him. “There’ll lie a little dirt in a. box,’ he wrote, and he asked me to bury*; it for him on the beach near Nieuport, “That is where I am going now,” said Bradman, “and this is the box.”

Tenderly he removed the paper from tho package, disclosing a small stone urn. I read the simple inscription: Gunnar Bechtel.

The venerable superstition that if three people light pipe, cigar or cigar-■ ette from the same match one of them will die before the year is out is probably about, as true as the belief that to pass under a laddet’ or spill the salt means asking for trouble. But how these old wives’ tales persist! The' “lighting up” by three persons from - the ono match isi Unimportant, What is important to note is that to smoke (habitually), tobacco rank with nicotine (a deadly poison) is very unwise..: And unfortunately so many brands, pro like that! The safe and sure way is to smoke “toasted.” You may indulge in Cut Plug No. 10 (Bullshead), Cavendish, Navy Cut No. 3 (Bulldog), .Rivet-head Gold or Desert Gold as freefv as you please. There s practically no nicotine in these famous tobaccos.. It is got rid. of by toasting m the process of manufacture, and you get a pure, sweet, cool and- fragrant smoke'full of comfort and - delight.; Rut he wary when buying. Ask lor any of the brands .named and you II be right.