It would appear, therefore, that Russian Poland would offer excellent conditions for an army on the defensive. And this is quite true, the Vistula, especially, serving as a screen against the attacking armies from the west. As a matter of fact, it would have been extremely difficult to take Warsaw by a frontal attack. Warsaw's weakness lay in the north in the swamp regions.

One of the greatest dangers in all wars, against which a military commander has to guard his army, is that of being flanked. The road or roads leading from the rear to the base of supplies, along which not only food supplies for the soldiers, but, quite as important, ammunition, is brought up, either in wagons, automobiles, or in railroad trains, are the most sensitive part of an army's situation. Unless they are very short—that is, unless an army is very close to its base of supplies—it is impossible to guard these lines of communication adequately. Therefore, if the enemy is able to break through on either side of the front, there is great danger that he may swing his forces around and cut these lines of communication. The army that is thus deprived of its sources of supply has nothing left then but to surrender, sometimes even to inferior forces. Sometimes, of course, if the army is within the walls of a fortified city and is well supplied with food and ammunition, it may hold out and allow itself to be besieged. This may even be worth while, for the sake of diminishing the enemy's strength to the extent of the forces required for besieging, usually many times larger than the besieged force. But in the case of Warsaw we shall see that that would not have been a wise plan; hardly any food supply that could have been laid by would have maintained the large civil population, and the big guns of the Germans would soon have battered down the city's defenses.

This the Russians realized from the very beginning. As is well known now, Russia had never intended to hold Poland against the Teutons. Her real line of defense was laid much farther back. It was only on account of the protest of France, when the two Governments entered into their alliance, that any fortifications at all were thrown up in Poland. A real line of defense must be more or less a straight line, with no break. And the marshes in the north, as well as the tongue of East Prussia projecting in along the shores of the Baltic toward Riga made that impossible. Russia's real line of defense was farther east, along the borders of Russia proper and along the line of railroad already referred to. By studying this territory east of Poland it will become obvious why Russia should prefer this as her main line of defense against a German invasion.

As we witness the armies moving along what was once the frontier between Poland and Russia proper we shall find the plain of Poland dips into a region which apparently was once a vast lake which drained into the Dnieper, but the outlet becoming choked, this stagnant water formed into those immense morasses known as the Pripet Marshes, forming over two-fifths of the whole province of Minsk and covering an area of over 600 square miles. Even when more than 6,000,000 acres have been reclaimed by drainage, the armies found some of these marshes extending continuously for over 200 miles. In the upper Pripet basin the woods were everywhere full of countless little channels which creep through a wilderness of sedge. Along the right bank of the Pripet River the land rises above the level of the water and is fairly thickly populated. Elsewhere extends a great intricate network of streams with endless fields of bulrushes and stunted woods. Over these bogs hang unhealthy vapors, and among the rank reeds there is no fly, nor mosquito, nor living soul or sound in the autumn.

Not even infantry could pass over this region—not to consider cavalry or artillery, save in the depth of a cold winter when the water and mire is frozen. Even then it would be impossible to venture over the ice with heavy guns. An invading army must, therefore, split in two parts and pass around the sides, and nothing is more dangerous than splitting an army in the face of the enemy. It is behind these vast marshes that we shall find the Russians planned to make their first determined stand.

Here, too, the Russians expected to have the advantage of being surrounded by their own people, for this is the country of the White Russians, so called on account of their costumes. Here the purest Slavic type is preserved; they have not blended with other stocks, as the Great Russians with the Finns and the Little Russians, farther south, with the Mongols. For a while this territory was subject to the kings of Poland, who oppressed its inhabitants most barbarously, from the effects of which they have not even fully recovered. To-day White Russia is one of the poorest and most backward parts of the empire. And even yet the great bulk of the landlords are Poles.

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CHAPTER XLIII

AUSTRIAN POLAND, GALICIA AND BUKOWINA

Let us now pass ahead of the armies into the southern section of the eastern front. Here we have to consider only Austrian Poland, Galicia and Bukowina, for here there is much less swaying back and forth, the Russians maintaining their lines much more steadily than farther north. This section is an undulating terrace which slopes down to the Vistula and the Dniester; behind rise the Carpathian ranges, forming the natural frontier between the broad, fertile plains of Hungary and Russia. Here the population is quite dense, there being 240 inhabitants to the square mile. Nearly half of the total area is in farm lands, about one-fourth woodland, and the rest mostly meadow and pasture, less than a quarter of one per cent being lake or swamp. Rich crops of barley, oats, rye, wheat, and corn are grown here, while the mineral resources include coal, salt, and petroleum, the latter especially being important in modern warfare on account of the great quantities of fuel necessary for motor carriages.

Here, in Galicia, we shall witness the conquests of the important city of Lemberg—with its 160,000 population—fourth in size of all Austrian cities, only Vienna, Prague, and Triest being larger. Further in toward the mountains we shall see the storming of the strongly fortified city of Przemysl (pronounced Prshemisel), also important as the junction of the network of railroads that the Austrians had built throughout the country, including several lines passing over the Carpathians into Hungary. And farther west still we shall look upon the invasion of the old Polish city of Cracow, also strongly fortified. This section is especially rich in industries, mines, and agriculture.

Here, too, are staged many of the battles of the rivers—parallel with the mountain ranges flows the Dniester in a southeasterly direction, into which, flowing down from the north and running parallel with each other, empty the Gnila Lipa, the Zlota Lipa, and the Stripa, all of which figure prominently in the war movements, for each of these is crossed several times by both armies engaged at bloody costs.

As will be noted by reading the chapters on the fighting on the eastern front, here, as in East Prussia, the Russians make a determined advance and actually succeed in conquering this territory from the Austrians. At one time we find them even in possession of all except one of the chief passes in the Carpathians and threatening to overrun the plains of Hungary. To hold Russian Poland it was necessary that they should have a firm grip of East Prussia and Austrian Poland, thus protecting the flanks of their center. Had they been able to hold their grip, then they could have straightened out their entire line from north to south, and Warsaw would have been safe. But we shall see both their extremities driven back; therefore Warsaw was in danger, in spite of its fortifications.

That the Austrians should have allowed themselves to be thrust back over the Carpathians is one of the surprises of the early stages of the war. For these mountains are only second in size in all Europe to the Alps themselves, forming the eastern wing of the great European mountain system. They are about 800 miles long and nearly 250 miles wide in parts. Some of the higher peaks reach 8,000 feet above sea level.

Imagine the vision of an army marching along the roads from the foothills to the mountains leading through mysterious, shadowy spruce forests, where the soil is covered with rich carpets of moss. Foaming streams ripple in among the moss-covered bowlders. Then the paths emerge on the cheerful, emerald-green pastures of the slopes, alive with the flocks of goats, sheep and cattle, attended by their shepherds. A little farther and the whole scenery changes, and the armies approach tremendous mountains of solid granite, ominously dark, shining like hammered iron, rising abruptly from the stone debris and black patches of mountain fir, and towering bluffs and crags seem to pierce the sky with their sharp peaks, bastions and jagged ridges, like gigantic fortresses. Clouds of white mist, driven and torn by gusts of wind, cling to the precipitous walls, and masses of eternal snow lie in the many fissures and depressions, forming large, sharply outlined streaks and patches.

The Magyars inhabit the great central plains of Hungary which constitutes ethnologically a vast island of Magyars in a sea of Slavs. The Carpathian slopes on the Hungarian side of the ranges, including the mounts of the Tatra—with the exception of the Zips district, which is peopled with German-Saxon colonists—are inhabited, in their western parts, by two million Slovaks, in the eastern parts by half a million Ruthenians or Little Russians, and on the Transylvanian side by nearly three million Rumanians. The border lines between these Rumanians and the Magyars and between the Hungaro-Slav groups (Slovaks and Ruthenians) and the Magyars lie far down within the borders of the great central Hungarian plains. This line at one point extends to within a few miles of the Hungarian capital of Bupapest.

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CHAPTER XLIV

THE BALKANS-COUNTRIES AND PEOPLES

This survey of the fighting ground in eastern Europe brings us now to the "cockpit of the war." From a military point of view, as well as from the political, the Balkan theatre is of equal importance with other big fronts in Europe. It is the gateway to the Orient for central Europe. Here the armies engaged are numbered only by the hundred thousands, none reach a million. But from the point of view of human interest and political intrigue it is by far the most picturesque. Here the hatred between the combatants is most bitter; indeed so bitter that when it burst into flame a mad whirlwind of passion swept over half the world. For here the great conflagration began.

A map of the Balkan Peninsula is almost, on the face of it, a full explanation of the causes of the war. The military campaigns, studied in connection with their physical environment, explain all the diplomatic intrigues of the past fifty years, for they are the intrigues themselves translated into action.

Geographically speaking, the Balkan nations are those situated in the big peninsula of southern Europe which lies below the Danube River and the northern border of Montenegro. Some authorities, however, include Rumania, and others even bring in Austria's Slavic provinces, Bosnia and Herzegovina.

The most noticeable feature of this vast war-ridden region is its mountains. Those same Carpathian Mountains, which form the natural boundary between the land of the Magyars and the Russian plains, take a sudden turn westward at the Rumanian frontier, then sweep around in a great semicircle, forming a shape resembling a scythe, the handle of which reaches up into Poland, the blade curling around within the Balkan Peninsula. Behind the handle, and above the upper part of the blade, stretch the broad plains of Hungary, through which flows the great Danube, the largest river in Europe next to the Russian Volga—a river which flowed with blood during the Great War. Just in the middle of the back of the blade this great river bursts through the mountain chain, swirling through the famous Iron Gate into the great basin within the curved blade. On the south of its farther course to the Black Sea lie the plains of northern Bulgaria.

The curving chain of mountains below the Iron Gate is the Balkan Range. But excepting for the plains of Thrace, lying south of the Balkans, over toward the Black Sea and above Constantinople, the rest of the peninsula is almost entirely one confused tangle of craggy mountains, interspersed throughout with small, fertile valleys and plateaus. This roughness of surface becomes especially aggravated as one passes westward, and over toward the Adriatic coast, from Greece up into the Austrian province of Dalmatia, the country is almost inaccessible to ordinary travelers.

What is the political value of this beleaguered domain? The broad, significant fact is that any road from western Europe to the Orient must pass through the Balkan Peninsula, and that these mountains almost block that road. From north to south there is just one highway, so narrow that it is really a defile.

This road stretches from the seat of the war at Belgrade on the Danube down a narrow valley, the Morava, thence through the highlands of Macedonia into the Vardar Valley to Saloniki, on the AEgean Sea. At Nish, above Macedonia, another road branches off into Bulgaria across the plains of Thrace and into Constantinople. This was the road by which the Crusaders swarmed down to conquer the Holy Land. This was the road by which, hundreds of years later, the Moslems swarmed up into the plains of Hungary and overran the south of Europe, until they were finally checked outside the gates of Vienna. Nothing is more significant of the terror that these marching hosts inspired than the fact that, with the exception of a few larger towns, the villages hid themselves away from this highway in the hills.

Bear clearly in mind that in the existence of this narrow way to the Orient lies the key not only to the causes of the war, but to the military campaigns that we shall follow in this region. For it is the Teutons who would in the Great War, like the Crusaders of old, pass down this highway and again conquer the East, though in this case their object is trade, and not the Holy Sepulcher.

To secure the pathway through this strategic country it also is necessary to have control of the territory on all sides, and this is quite as true in a political as in a military sense. To secure their pathway up into Europe the Turks once conquered all the peoples in the Balkans, except those inhabiting the mountains over on the Adriatic: the Montenegrins and a small city called Ragusa, just above Montenegro in Dalmatia. It is not at all peculiar that just here, in almost the same locality, the Teutons should meet with the first and strongest resistance.

A study of the territory in which the first fighting of the war occurred will explain the foregoing calculations. It will be observed that Austrian territory runs down past the eastward turn in the Danube, along the frontier of Montenegro, until it narrows gradually into a tip at Cattaro, just below Cettinje, the Montenegrin capital. This land is composed of the three provinces of Bosnia, Herzegovina and Dalmatia. All this territory is inhabited by the same race that peoples Serbia and Montenegro—the Serbs. In fact, the Slavic population reaches up all along the coast to Trieste, and even a little beyond. For this reason it is in this direction that we shall see the Serbians and the Montenegrins invade Austrian territory, after their initial success in repulsing the Austrian invasion.

The objectives of the brief campaign soon to be considered were Sarajevo, the capital of Bosnia, and Ragusa, the famous little seaport on the Adriatic. Ragusa is of especial interest on account of its remarkable history. In the Middle Ages it was the most important seaport in that part of the world. Its ships sailed over all the Mediterranean and from them is derived the word "argosy," signifying a ship laden with wealth. Again and again the Turks attempted to conquer this little state, which was at that time a republic, but always the Ragusans beat off the enemy. For the country about is so rocky, so rough, that the city was easily defended, especially in that time when nearly all fighting was hand to hand.

The first and foremost word in the Great War—the key word—is Sarajevo. Here is the scene of the assassination of the Crown Prince of Austria, which was at least the final cause of the war. As we enter it we find a population of about forty thousand, half of which are Mohammedans. It is a large, straggling town, situated in a narrowing valley overtopped by steep hills on either side, which close in a narrow gorge in the east and broaden into a plain on the west. It was to the eastward, however, that we shall find the heavy fighting along the Austro-Serbian frontier.

The armies along the Danube will soon command our attention. As they follow the river toward Belgrade, the capital of Serbia, it is no longer the "Blue Danube" of the famous German song. Here, in fact, it is a broad, mud-colored river, dotted with a number of low islands along its center. Belgrade, where the first shots of the war were fired, is located on rather high ground, backed by a semicircle of low hills in its rear. But opposite all is flat and, in places, marshy. Modern guns could, of course, keep up an effective fire across the river at this point, as in fact they did before the actual invasion of Serbia began, but the conditions for a crossing are not favorable. It was from the west, from the Bosnian side, that the actual attack was made.

Just below Belgrade the river Save, shallower and narrower, empties into the Danube, forming the frontier westward, past Shabatz, to Ratcha, where the Drina, flowing down from the Macedonian highlands northward, joins it, forming the western frontier between Bosnia and Serbia.

The Drina, where much fighting occurs, is no ordinary waterway, no mere mountain stream, though it lies in a mountainous country. Before reaching its junction with the Save it is fed by many important tributaries. Ever swift, often torrential, it has washed out a bed of imposing width, and by a constant cutting out of new courses has created a series of deltas. It was one of the largest of these islands, that of Kuriachista, between Losnitza and Leschnitza, that the Austrians chose as a base for their first invasion. From this point up and around to Shabatz lies the bloody field of the Austro-Serbian battles.

A description of this section, in brief at least, is necessary to an understanding of the three Austrian invasions made here, and all three of which failed disastrously. North and west of Shabatz lies the great plain of Matchva, bounded on its east and north by the Save and by the Drina on the west. It is a rich, fertile land, but much broken up by woodland. To the southeast a rolling valley is divided by the River Dobrava, while due south the Tzer Mountains rise like a camel's back out of the plain and stretch right across from the Drina to the Dobrava. The southern slopes of Tzer are less abrupt than those on the north and descend gradually into the Leschnitza Valley, out of which rise the lesser heights of the Iverak Mountains. Both these ranges are largely covered by prune orchards, intersected with some sparse timber.

This is a region of natural fortifications. Descending southward again, the foothills of Iverak are lost in a chain of summits, which flank the right bank of the Jadar River, that tributary of the Drina River from which the first big battle takes its name.

From the left bank of the Jadar, from its junction with the Drina to Jarebitze, a great rolling level stretches south until the high Guchevo Mountains, stretching in southeasterly direction, rise abruptly and hide the Bosnian hills from view. From there, southward, the country is extremely mountainous, even the highways being blasted out of the sides of the precipitous mountains along the innumerable ravines through which run watercourses which, though almost dry in summer, burst into torrential streams after the snows begin to melt in the higher altitudes.

Naturally in such a country roads are of prime importance in military operations. A few built and maintained by the state are in excellent condition and practicable in all sorts of weather. But for the rest communications consist of bridle paths and trails over the mountains.

As has been stated, the great highway from Belgrade to Saloniki is the key to all military operations in the Balkans; nor is this case any exception. A study of the map will show how this big, underlying fact entered into the plans of the first three attempts at invading Serbia. Naturally, had facilities been convenient at Belgrade, that would have been the point from which to advance. The next possible point was over the Drina, because it was not so wide or so deep.

Bosnia and Herzegovina at the beginning of the war were sparsely served by railroads. But for the purpose of an invasion of Serbia the lines running to Tuzla in the north and to Vishegrade and Uvatz in the south were of much strategic importance. Moreover, unlike the Hungarian plain opposite Belgrade, the country is so mountainous and well wooded that great bodies of troops could be moved about without being observed. We now come to the main reason why this point was chosen, next to Belgrade. Though we shall see that they did not reach it at their first attempt, there is no doubt that the main objective of the Austrians was the little town of Valievo, lying some distance back from the Jadar and the field of battle. For at Valievo is the terminus of a light railway which joins with the main line running from Belgrade down to Saloniki. The Teutons were in a hurry to open this highway, for it meant opening a means of communication with the Turks, who were to become, and later did become, their active allies. These are political matters of significance here insomuch as they explain the special importance of the railway from Belgrade south along the ancient highway of the Crusaders.

Before following this route farther south, a few words should be devoted to Montenegro. Between Serbia and Montenegro lies the Sanjak of Novibazar. This small territory nominally belonged to Turkey before the Balkan War, but it was in fact garrisoned by Austrian troops, the civil administration being left to the Turks. Austria had gone to special trouble to establish this arrangement, so that it might have a wedge between the territories of the two little Serb nations. Anticipating this war long ago, Austria had counted on having a large enough force in Novibazar to prevent a union of the two armies. But, when it actually came, she was in no position to prevent it, so much of her strength being required to meet the Russians.

Montenegro is the natural refuge of the Serbs. Whenever in the past they were especially hard pressed by the Turks, they would flee to the mountain fastnesses of Tzherna Gora, the Black Mountain, for here military operations, even in this day of modern artillery, are absolutely impossible, and when it came to mountain guerrilla fighting, the Turks were no match for the Serbs. Thus it was that the Serbs were able to preserve their old traditions, their language and the best blood of their race. And it may be said that to a slightly lesser extent Ragusa served the same purpose.

The Montenegrins are born fighters and die fighters. From one end to the other Montenegro is one wilderness of mountain crags and towering precipices, traversed only by foot trails. Here and there a shelf of level soil may be found, just enough to enable people to grow their own necessities. The capital of this rocky domain, high up among the crags and overlooking the Adriatic, is Cettinje, which was to be stormed and conquered by the Teutons. The main street, about 150 yards long, comprising two-thirds of the town, is so broad that three or four carriages may be driven abreast down the length of it. It is composed entirely of one and two story cottages. A few short streets branch off at right angles, and in these is all of Cettinje that is not comprised in the main street. The king inhabited a modest-looking, brown edifice with a small garden attached. Overlooking the capital is Mt. Lovcen, on top of which the Montenegrins planted guns to defend any attack that might be made against them.

South of Montenegro and north of Greece lies another country of instinctive fighters. It is similar in physical aspect, but very different in its population. This is the land of the Albanians, whom the Turks conquered by force of arms, like all the rest of the Balkan peninsula. They are a distinct race by themselves; it is supposed that they are the descendants of the ancient Illyrians, those wild tribes of whom the ancient Greeks wrote. Nor is this unlikely, for in such a country as theirs the inhabitants are most likely to remain pure from generation to generation.

Returning for a few moments to Belgrade, we now may resume our course down the ancient highway toward Saloniki. Down the Morava Valley passes the railroad, after which it passes within a few miles of the Bulgarian frontier, near Kustendil; dangerously near the frontier of a possible enemy, but especially perilous in this war in which the Serbians would naturally endeavor to retreat toward her ally, Greece.

Just below Vranya the railroad enters what was, before the two Balkan Wars, the Turkish territory of Macedonia. This region down to within sixty miles of Saloniki was reconquered from the Turks by the Serbs, having been Serb inhabited since early in the Christian era as shown by historical record. As early as 950 Constantin Porphyrogenitus writes of its inhabitants as Serbs, from whom, he says, the town of Serbia on the Bistritza River near Saloniki took its name. Throughout this region there are so many mountain ranges that it would be impossible to name them all. Nowhere has blood been more continuously shed than here, and nowhere in Europe is the scenery more beautiful.

Especially impressive is that section around Monastir, toward the frontier of Albania and away from the main line of the railroad. Here, not more than a day's walk from the city of Monastir, or Bitolia, as its Slavic inhabitants call it, is Lake Prespa, a small sheet of crystal-clear water in which are reflected the peaks and the rugged crags of the surrounding mountains. Through a subterranean passage the waters of this mountain lake pass under the range that separates it from the much larger lake, Ochrida, the source of the bloody Drina.

The people of these mountains are Serbs, almost to Saloniki. Uskub, whose ancient Serb name is Skoplya, was the old Serb capital, and there the Serb ruler Doushan was crowned emperor in 1346.

For the past five hundred years these Macedonians have been used to all the ways of guerrilla fighting. Roaming through their mountains in small bands they have harassed the Turkish soldiers continuously.

The Bulgarian ruler Ferdinand had through many years by means of committees and church jugglery striven to Bulgarize this population, preparatory to the contemplated seizure of the territory which he has now been able with the help of the Germanic powers to accomplish. But in reality the Bulgar population in what was European Turkey was found only eastward of the Struma in Thracia including Adrianople. Those regions formed the ample and legitimate field of ambition for the unification of the Bulgars.

When hostilities broke out in 1914, when Serbia was defending herself against the Austrians, King Ferdinand of Bulgaria, the secret ally by treaty of Austria, did everything possible to forward his designs against the Serbs and sent armed Bulgar bands into Serb Macedonia.

Shortly below the city of Monastir in the west begins the Greek frontier, running over eastward to Doiran, where it touches the Bulgarian frontier. Here the railroad, coming down along the Vardar River, emerges into the swamp lands and over them passes into the city of Saloniki.

Here is the old territory of Philip of Macedon, the father of the conqueror. For some forty or fifty miles these swamps stretch out from Saloniki, overshadowed by Mt. Olympus on their southern edge. While not quite so extensive as the Pinsk Swamps, they are quite as impassable, from a military point of view. In the center of this region of bulrushes and stunted forests is an open sheet of shallow water, Lake Enedjee.

Nearly all this swamp land is submerged, but here and there are small islands. For some years the Turkish soldiers garrisoned these islands during the mild winter months, living on them in rush huts. In the summer they would withdraw into the near-by foothills. But one summer several hundred Comitajis descended into the swamps and took possession.

The stunted forests and the bulrushes here are traversed by a maze of narrow waterways, just wide enough for a punt to pass along. When the soldiers returned in the fall, they started out for their islands in strings of punts. Presently they were met by volleys of bullets that seemed to come from all directions out of the bulrushes. Some, in their panic, leaped out into the shallow water and sunk in the mire. The rest retired.

For years the Turkish soldiers attempted to drive the Comitajis out of the swamp. First they surrounded it, watching all possible landing places, but the outlaws had supplies smuggled in to them by the peasants. Then the Turks began bombarding with heavy cannon, which, of course, was futile, since they could not distinguish the points at which they were firing. And finally they gave up molesting the Comitajis, who continued making the swamps their headquarters until the Young Turks came into power. Then, believing that a constitutional Macedonia was finally to be granted them, all the Comitajis laid down their arms.

It is a peculiar fact that Saloniki, one of the largest cities on the peninsula, with a population considerably over a hundred thousand, should represent none of the national elements of the country. For though Bulgars, Turks, Greeks, and Serbs may be found there, an overwhelming majority, nearly 90,000 of the people, are Spanish Jews.

Walking along the streets, it would be easy to imagine oneself in Spain or in Mexico; on all sides the shouts of peddlers, the cries of cabmen, the conversation of pedestrians, are in Spanish. With a knowledge of that language the stranger may make his way about as easily as in his own native country. These are the descendants of the Jews who were driven out of Spain by Torquemada and his Spanish Inquisition and were so hospitably received by the Sultan of Turkey.

Saloniki, where we shall witness severe battles, is situated at the head of the gulf by the same name, an inlet of the AEgean Sea. It is a well-fortified city, built on the water's edge, but surrounding it is high land commanding the surrounding country. Added to that, the swamp region is another protection from an enemy coming from inland. Its seaward forts, however, are, or were, obsolete and would probably crumble before the fire of modern naval guns.

Stretching down the eastern shore of the Gulf is a peninsula on which is the famous Mt. Athos, that very peculiar community of celibate monks. Here, in the Holy Mountain, as the Slavs call it, there are monasteries representing all the various denominations of the Greek Orthodox Church: Greek, Bulgarian, Serbian, and Russian, each swarming with hundreds of monks, who pass their time in idleness. Not only are women forbidden to enter this domain, but even female dogs or cats are kept out.

Across this upper end of the AEgean, from Mt. Athos, is the Bulgarian port, Dedeagatch, to which runs a branch of the main railway from Sofia to Constantinople. The country here is low and swampy, the port itself being little more than a boat landing.

Just below this point, across the Gulf of Saros, is the peninsula of Gallipoli, where a critical phase of the war was fought. It is somewhat like the blade of a scimitar, covering the entrance to the Sea of Marmora. Between this strip of land and the coast of Asia Minor is a narrow strait, the outer mouth of which is called the Dardanelles, the inner gateway being the famous Hellespont. Here it was that Xerxes crossed over on a bridge of boats at the head of his Persian army to invade Greece, only to meet disaster at Thermopylae, and here Alexander of Macedonia crossed over to begin his march of conquest which was to extend his power as far as India. And about this narrow strait is centered the ancient Greek myth about Hero and Leander, which inspired Byron to swim across from Asia to Europe.

How well the Turks have fortified this approach to their capital is well enough indicated in the story of the operations of the allied fleets in their attempt to force the passage.

From the Hellespont to Constantinople is a sail of forty miles, along a coast steep and rugged, destitute of any harbor or even a beach where a boat might land. Nor is there a more beautiful sight than that which is presented on approaching the Turkish capital from this direction, especially of an early morning. Against the dawn in the East are silhouetted the minarets and domes and the palace roofs of the city; then, as the light increases, the white buildings are distinguished more clearly through a purple mist that rises from the waters, until the ship enters the Bosphorus, gliding past the shipping and the boat traffic along the shore of the harbor. The beauties of the Bosphorus have been described in every book of travel that has ever included this section of the world in its descriptions: it is undoubtedly the most beautiful waterway that may be found in any country.

Emerging into the Black Sea from the Bosphorus, one strikes the Bulgarian coast not far above that neck of land on which Constantinople is built. Along this stretch of coast up to the mouth of the Danube there are two harbors, Varna and Burgas. Each is terminus of a branch railroad leading off from the Nish-Sofia-Constantinople line. Behind Burgas lie the level tracts of Eastern Rumelia, or Thrace, as that part of the country is still called. But Varna is above the point where the Balkan Range strikes the coast, all of which is steep and rocky.

Above Varna begins the Delta of the Danube, up which steamers and heavily laden barges sail continuously, but here also begins the neutral territory of Rumania, the Dobruja, the richest section of the Danube basin, which was ceded to Rumania by Bulgaria after the Second Balkan War.

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CHAPTER XLV

THE CAUCASUS—THE BARRED DOOR

We now come to that section of the eastern theatre of the war which received the least extended notice in printed reports—the barred doorway between Europe and Asia—the Caucasus. Not because the fighting there was less furious, but because the region was less accessible to war correspondents. The struggle was in fact quite as bloody and even more savage and barbarous here than elsewhere, for on this front Russ meets Turk, Christian meets Moslem, and where they grapple the veneer of chivalry blisters off.

Here again, as in Galicia, we come to a natural frontier, not only between two races, but between two continents. For here, crossing the isthmus between the Black Sea and the Caspian, stretches a mountain range over seven hundred miles in length, rising abruptly out of the plains on either side. These are the Caucasus Mountains, forming the boundary between Europe and Asia.

The higher and central part of the range (which averages only from sixty to seventy miles in width) is formed of parallel ridges, not separated by deep and wide valleys, but remarkably connected by elevated plateaus, which are traversed by narrow fissures of extreme depth. The highest peaks are in the most central chain; Mt. Elburz, attaining an elevation of 18,000 feet above the sea, while Mt. Kasbeck reaches a height of more than 16,000 feet, and several other peaks rise above the line of perpetual snow. The outlying spurs and foothills of this chain of lofty mountains are of less extent and importance than those of almost any other mountain range of similar magnitude, subsiding, as they do, until they are only 200 feet high along the shores of the Black Sea. Some parts are almost entirely bare, but other parts are densely wooded and the secondary ranges near the Black Sea are covered by magnificent forests of oak, beech, ash, maple, and walnut.

This range is an almost impassable wall across the narrow isthmus which joins Europe and Asia, and the Gorge of Dariel is the gateway in this wall through which have come almost all the migrating races that have peopled the continent of Europe. As is well known, the white peoples of Europe have been classified as the Caucasian race, because they were all supposed to have passed through this gateway originally. Apparently each of these oncoming waves of barbaric humanity, bursting through the great gateway, must have left behind some few remnants of their volume, for nowhere in the world, in so limited an area, is there such a diversity and mixture of peoples. In the words of one writer, who speaks with authority on this region, the Caucasus is "an ethnological museum where the invaders of Europe, as they traveled westward to be manufactured into nations, left behind samples of themselves in their raw condition."

Here may be found the Georgians, who so long championed the Cross against the Crescent, the wild Lesghians from the highlands of Daghestan; the Circassians, famed for the beauty of their women; Suanetians, Ossets, Abkhasians, Mingrelians, not to enumerate dozens of other tribes and races, each speaking its own tongue. It is said that over a hundred languages are spoken throughout this region; seventy in the city of Tiflis alone.

The scenery of the mountains themselves is unparalleled in grandeur except by the Himalayas and offers many a virgin peak to the ambitious mountain climber. Here may be found the ibex, the stag, the wild boar, the wild bull and an infinite variety of feathered game. The animal life of the mountains has, in fact, become more abundant of late years on account of the high charges for hunting licenses fixed by the Russian Government. Wolves are so plentiful that in severe winters they descend to the lowlands in great packs and rob the flocks before the very eyes of the shepherds.

The most important mineral resources of the region are the oil wells; here, in fact, around Batum, are situated some of the most important oil fields in the world. Of manganese ore, an essential of the steel industry, the Caucasus furnishes half of the world's supply, which is exported from the two ports of Poti and Batum. Its mineral wealth seems to be practically unlimited, copper, zinc, iron, tin, and many other metals being found throughout the region, in most cases in exceedingly rich deposits. The agricultural resources are not so important, especially from a military point of view, though vast quantities of sheep are raised in the highlands in the spring and summer, the flocks being driven down into the plains to the south in winter.

One of the outstanding features of Russian occupation is the great Georgian military road which has been built across the mountains of recent years and maintained by the Government. Its engineering is masterly; here and there it passes close to or under vast overhanging lumps of mountainside. Everywhere the greatest care has been taken of this most important military highway, Russia's avenue into that country she coveted and fought for so long. Beginning at Vladikavkaz, it runs through Balta, Lars, thence through the famous Gorge of Dariel, the "Circassian Gates," the dark and awful defile between Europe and Asia. The gorge is what the geologists call a "fault," for it is not really a pass over the mountain chain, but a rent clear across it. Seventy years ago it was almost impassable for avalanches or the sudden outbursts of pent-up glacial streams swept it from end to end, but the Russians have spent over $20,000,000 on it and made it safe. In 1877, during the Russo-Turkish War, nearly all the troops and stores for carrying the war into Turkey and Asia came by this road.

Its importance has since been lessened to a certain degree, for there is now direct railway communication from Moscow to Baku, at one end of the Trans-Caucasian Railway, and therefore to Kars itself, via Tiflis; and equally from Batum to Kars at the other end to which military steamers can bring troops and supplies from Odessa and Novorossik in the Black Sea.

The most important city in this region is Tiflis, the "city of seventy languages." It may, indeed, be called the modern Babel. As seen from the mountains, it lies at the bottom of a brown, treeless valley, between steep hills, on either side of the River Kura.

It is a point of great importance to modern Russia. It forms, to begin with, the end of the great military road across the mountains which, in spite of the railways, is still the quickest way to Europe for an army as well as for travelers, and all the mails come over it by express coaches. From Tiflis a railway runs to Kars, a strong frontier on the Persian frontier.

Tiflis has been much developed under the Russian Government. In the modern section of the city the streets are wide and paved and lighted by electricity and the stores are large and handsome while electric railways run in all directions. In the older parts of the city, however, the houses remain as they were built centuries ago, divided out into the many quarters devoted to the residences of the many races and nationalities that compose the population of Tiflis. Between most of them is bitter enmity and prejudice, even among those of the two great religious faiths, Christians and Mohammedans. It is this diversity of interests, which extends throughout all the section down into Persia, which has so complicated the situation on this front. For not only are the two military forces fighting here, but wherever governmental authority is momentarily relaxed, there these mutual animosities flare up into active expression and the most barbarous features of warfare take place, such as the massacres of the Armenians by the Mohammedans. Neither Turkey nor Russia has been especially eager to suppress these bitter feuds, even in time of peace. In time of war there is nothing to restrain them, and the whole region is swept by carnage infinitely more hideous than legitimate warfare.

We have now passed over the entire theatre of the battles on the Eastern frontiers of the war in Europe. The battle grounds are familiar to us. In the succeeding chapters we will follow the armies over this war-ridden dominion and watch the battle lines as they move through the war to its decisive conclusion.



PART IV—THE AUSTRO-SERBIAN CAMPAIGN

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CHAPTER XLVI

SERBIA'S SITUATION AND RESOURCES

The first great campaign on the southeastern battle grounds of the Great War began on July 27, 1914, when the Austrian troops undertook their first invasion of Serbia. They crossed the Serbian border at Mitrovitza, about fifty miles northwest of Belgrade, driving the Serbians before them. The first real hostilities of the war opened with the bombardment of Belgrade by the Austrians on July 29, 1914—six days before the beginning of the campaigns on the western battle fields.

We are now familiar with the theatre of war as described in the preceding chapters, and will now follow the first Austrian armies into Serbia.

A stubborn fight excites the admiration of all observers, regardless of the moral qualities of the combatants. So, wherever our sympathies may lie, considering the war as a whole, there can be no doubt that the defense which the Serbians made against the first efforts of the Austrians to invade their country will stand out in the early history of the war as one of the most brilliant episodes of that period of the general struggle. Like a mighty tidal wave from the ocean the Austrian hosts swept over the Serbian frontier in three furious successive onslaughts, only to be beaten back each time. Naturally, there were material and moral causes, aside from the mere valor of the Serbians, which combined to create this disaster for the Austrian forces, but enough of the human element enters into the military activities of these campaigns to make them easily the most picturesque of the early period of the war.

Before entering into a description of the actual events in 1914, it is well to consider the forces engaged. From a material point of view the Serbians entered into these campaigns greatly handicapped. They had lately been through two wars. In the First Balkan War they had not, it is true, been severely tested; the weight of the fighting had been borne by the Bulgarians in Thrace. The real test, and the great losses, came only with the second war, when the Serbian army threw every fiber of its strength against the Bulgarians in the Battle of the Bregalnitza, one of the most stubborn struggles in military history. The result was a Serbian victory, but it was very far from being a decisive and conclusive victory. The Bulgarians were forced back some fifteen miles into their own territory, but had it not been for the intervention of Rumania there can be no doubt that the Serbs would have entered Sofia. Here it was that the Serbians lost 7,000 killed and 30,000 wounded of their best men, as against 5,000 killed and 18,000 wounded in the whole war with Turkey; a total loss that was bound to be felt a few months later when the struggle was to be against so powerful an adversary as Austria-Hungary. The two previous wars had, without exaggeration, deprived the Serbian fighting forces of one-tenth their number—a tenth that was of the very best of first-line troops.



Added to this was another serious handicap, possibly even more serious. Serbia had, indeed, emerged victorious from the two wars, with a large stretch of conquered territory at her backdoor. But this acquired territory, practically all of Macedonia that had not gone to Greece, was peopled by Serbs. For twenty-five years these Macedonians had been organized into revolutionary fighting bands, the "Macedonian Committee" for the liberation of Macedonia and Albania from the Turks, and had struggled, not only against the Turks, but against foreign armed bands of propagandists. Some eight years subsequently to the foundation of the Macedonian Committee of native origin, the Bulgars founded in 1893 their committee which was called the Macedo-Adrianople Committee. During the First Balkan War these experienced guerrilla fighters were valuable allies to the Serbian forces operating against the Turks.

But even before the First Balkan War the Serbians had very distinctly given the Macedonians to understand that they were to remain Serbian subjects. This action on their part had had not a little to do with rousing the Bulgarians to precipitate the Second Balkan War. And when finally Serbia conquered all this territory, confirmed to her down to Doiran by the treaty of Bucharest, King Ferdinand of Bulgaria began at once a fiery anti-Serb propaganda throughout the world, and took measures through provocatory agents and Bulgar bands crossing from Bulgaria into Macedonia to create disturbances.

When the Great War broke out in July, 1914, this Bulgarian activity in Serb Macedonia grew more intense. Thus it was that when the Austrians attacked the Serbians on their front the Serbians had still to detach enough of their forces to guard the Serbo-Bulgar border to prevent the crossing into Serb Macedonia of Bulgar bands. And added to this was the danger from Bulgaria herself. The Serbians knew that the opportune moment had only to come and Bulgaria, too, would hurl herself on the Serbian eastern flank. Thus another large percentage of the Serbian fighting forces had also to be stationed along the Bulgarian frontier to guard against possible attack from that quarter.

Offsetting these handicaps, however, and more than equalizing them, was the moral strength of the Serbian fighting units. They had just emerged through two victorious wars; they had triumphed so completely that there was small wonder if the Serbian farmers had come to believe themselves invincible and their leaders infallible. Practically every man in the Serbian army was a seasoned veteran; he had had not only his baptism of fire, but he had been through some of the bloodiest battles of modern times. He had got over his first fright; he was in that state of mind where danger and bloodshed no longer inspired either fear or horror. And even the warlike savage trembles on entering his first battle. Finally, he was now defending his country, his home, his very fireside and his family against foreign invasion. And it is generally admitted that a man fighting in that situation is equal to two invaders, all other things being equal.

The Serb army opposing the Austrian invasions was composed of ten divisions of the First Ban and five divisions of the Second Ban. Five of the divisions of the First Ban and the five of the Second came from the kingdom as it was prior to the two Balkan wars, but the second five divisions of the First Ban were new creations recruited from Serb Macedonia.

The principles on which the organization of the Serbian army was based were very simple. The former kingdom was divided into five territorial divisional districts—Nish, Valievo, Belgrade, Kragujevatz, and Zaitchar. Each of these territorial divisional districts was subdivided into four regimental recruiting districts, each of which provided one infantry regiment of four battalions and one depot battalion. The battalion numbered about a thousand men, so that the war strength of the divisional infantry amounted to about 16,000 men. Attached to each division was a regiment of artillery, consisting of three groups of three 6-gun batteries; in all, 54 guns. The divisional cavalry, existing only in war time, consisted of a regiment of four squadrons, from men and horses previously registered. To each division was also attached its own technical and administrative units, engineers, and supply column, and its total strength amounted to 23,000 officers and men of first-line troops.

In addition to these five divisions of the First Ban, there was also a regiment of mountain artillery, made up of six batteries, six howitzer batteries and two battalions of fortress artillery. Then there was a separate cavalry division composed of two brigades, each of two regiments. Its war strength was 80 officers and 3,200 men. Attached to the cavalry division were two horse artillery batteries, of eight guns each. All told, this first-line army numbered about 200,000, with about 5,200 sabers and 330 guns.



The Second Ban, or reserve, much inferior in armament to the first line, brought the strength up to about 280,000 men. But this figure is probably an underestimate. Volunteers were enrolled in immense numbers. Some of them were men who had been exempted in the first conscription; others were Serbs from Austrian territory. The United States sent back thousands of Austrian and Macedonian Serbs who had emigrated there. It is probable, therefore, that the total strength of the Serbian forces shortly after the war broke out was at least 280,000, if not a trifle more. To this must be added the Montenegrin army which, though operating in a separate field, contributed its share in driving the Austrians back; another 40,000 men of first-class fighting ability and experience.

Finally, there was the third reserve, another 50,000 men, but they could be used for fighting only in the gravest emergency.

The infantry of the First Ban was armed with excellent Mauser rifles, caliber 7 mm., model 1899. The Second Ban carried a Mauser, the old single loader, to which a magazine was fitted in the Serbian arsenals; while the Third Ban had the old single-loader Berdan rifle. The machine gun carried was the Maxim, of the same caliber as the new Mauser.

In artillery the Serbians were perhaps not so well off. Their cannons had seen a great deal of service in the Balkan wars, and the larger a piece of artillery the more limited is the number of rounds it can fire. It is extremely doubtful that there had been time to replace many of these worn-out pieces.

The field gun was of French make; it was a 3-inch quick firer with a maximum range for shrapnel of 6,000 yards, a little over 3-1/2 miles. The Second Ban was armed with old De Bange guns of 8 cm. caliber. The heavy guns, which had done much service outside Adrianople, were of Creuzot make, and included 24 howitzers of 15 cm. and some mortars of 24 cm. As for the aviation wing, there was none.

The Serbian army was under the superior command of the Chief of the General Staff, Voivode (Field Marshal) Putnik. Unlike his younger colleagues, his military education was entirely a home product; he had never studied abroad. His father was one of those Serbs born on Austrian soil; he had emigrated from Hungary to Serbia in the early forties where he had followed the vocation of school-teacher. In 1847 the future general was born. After passing through the elementary schools, young Putnik entered the military academy at Belgrade. He had already attained a commission when the war of 1876 with Turkey broke out, through which he served as a captain of infantry. His next experience was in the unfortunate war with Bulgaria, in 1885, in which the Serbians were beaten after a three days' battle. At the outbreak of the war with Turkey, in 1912, General Putnik was made head of the army and received the grade of voivode (field marshal), being the first Serbian to enjoy that distinction. The grade of field marshal was created in the Serbian army during the First Balkan War.

With him worked Colonel Pavlovitch, the son of a farmer, who had won a series of scholarships, enabling him to study in Berlin. He had directed the military operations in the field against Turkey and Bulgaria, and he was to do the same thing under his old chief against the Austrians.

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CHAPTER XLVII

AUSTRIA'S STRENGTH AND STRATEGY

Let us now review the Austrian forces that participated in the invasions of Serbia. In number they were practically unlimited; at least they far outnumbered the Serbian forces that met them in the field. Their armament was of the best and their equipment as complete as boundless resources could make it. They were, however, partly made up of the peoples of the Slavic provinces of Austria—Bohemians, Croatians, Dalmatians, and Bosnians. Naturally there could be but little enthusiasm in their attacks on their brother Slavs, and while there are many mutual animosities between these various branches of the Slavic race, such feelings are, at any rate, secondary to the general dislike of the "Schwabs," as the German-Austrians are called, and the Magyars. Possibly this had much to do with the Austrian defeats. The Hungarian, or Magyar, regiments were probably in the majority. But the Magyars from the interior of Hungary have no special reason to hate the Serbians, and, aside from that, they were attacking on foreign soil.

At the head of the Austrian campaigns against Serbia was General Potiorek, generally described as a textbook strategist. But just how much his failures were due to his own inefficiency and how much to the inefficiency of those under him will probably never be determined; he had in the end to suffer for both.

These were the two great contending forces that were set in motion by the departure of Baron Giesl, the Austro-Hungarian Minister, from Belgrade, on July 25, 1914. On the same day the Prince Regent Alexander signed a decree ordering the general mobilization of the Serbian army. Three days later, on July 28, 1914, Austria declared war. By that time Serbia was in the midst of her mobilization.

That the Austrians, who had the advantage of having taken the initiative, and who had presumably chosen their own time for the opening of hostilities, did not immediately take full advantage of their favorable situation has caused much surprise among impartial military critics. On the same day that they declared war they had the opportunity to hurl their troops across the Danube and take Belgrade with practically no opposition. Apparently they were not ready; from that moment the difficulties that would have attended such a movement increased hourly.

A force of 20,000 men was raised almost immediately for the defense of Belgrade. To meet this opposition the Austrians had, on the evening of the day war was declared, July 18, 1914, only one division concentrated between Semlin and Pancsova, opposite Belgrade—a force that was hardly sufficient to take the Serbian capital. Two days later an army corps would have been needed for the enterprise, for by this time the Serbian army had begun concentrating considerable numbers within striking distance of the capital. Thus the first opportunity was lost by the tardiness of the Austrians to act.

It is presumed that the reader has already studied the description of this theatre of the war presented elsewhere in this work. Aside from that, the movements that follow should only be traced with the aid of a map. Written words are inadequate to give a concrete picture of the field of operations.

The Austrian General Staff realized the difficulties of crossing the Danube. Its general plan, probably prepared long before, contemplated a main attack that should begin from another quarter.

The Austro-Serbian frontier, almost 340 miles in extent, is formed on the north by the Save as well as by the Danube, and on the east and southeast by the Drina River. These two smaller streams abound in convenient fords, especially in summer. To many of these points on the northeastern frontier Austria had already constructed strategic railways. Moreover, the Austrian territory throughout this section is so mountainous and well timbered that large forces of troops could be well screened from observation, whereas the country opposite Belgrade is fiat and bane.

It was from this direction that the Serbian General Staff expected the first advance of the enemy. And yet there were dozens of other points where an attack in force was possible. Each must be covered with a force at least strong enough to hold the enemy back long enough to enable the forces stationed at the other points to come up to support. Here was the great advantage that the Austrians had to begin with; an advantage which the attacking army always enjoys. The attacking general alone knows where the first battle shall be fought.

The Serbians, therefore, could not count on meeting the Austrians in full force before they could enter Serbian territory. They realized that they must give way at the first contact; that the Austrians would undoubtedly advance quite some distance within Serbian territory before enough Serbian forces could be brought up against them to make the opposition effective.

Realizing this, it was decided to place fairly strong advance guards at all probable points of invasion with orders to resist as long as possible; until, in fact, defensive tactics could be adapted to the situation and the main Serbian army could be brought up to offer battle.

However, two points stood out as the most probable. These were the two already mentioned; the north, along the line from Obrenovatz to Belgrade and to Semendria; or, the front Obrenovatz-Ratza-Losnitza-Liubovia. The first possibility had the advantage to the Austrians of offering the shortest route to the center of the country—the Morava Valley, their natural objective. But it also necessitated a difficult crossing of the Danube, which would have had to be preceded by the building of pontoon bridges. This would have given the Serbians time to move up their main forces. The second alternative, an invasion from the east, would have entailed a longer journey, but the advantage of natural covering and easy crossing made it a sounder plan.

On July 28, 1914, the Serbians concentrated their forces in anticipation of either event. The outpost forces were stationed at or near Losnitza, Shabatz, Obrenovatz, Belgrade, Semendria, Pozarevatz and Gradishte. But their principal armies were centrally grouped along the line Palanka-Arangelovatz-Lazarevatz, while weaker, though important, detachments were stationed in the vicinity of Valievo, a branch railroad terminus, and Uzitze. This narrowed the field down to such limits that it was possible to march the troops from point to point, while the few railway facilities available were utilized for food and ammunition supplies.

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CHAPTER XLVIII

AUSTRIAN SUCCESSES

On the morning of July 29, 1914, the day after war had been declared, the residents of Belgrade were startled by a deep roar, followed by the whistling shriek of a huge body hurtling through the air, and a shell burst over the battlements of the old Turkish citadel, doing no damage. Immediately there came another deep shock; the Serbian guns were responding. Thence on the cannonading along the Danube front continued for week after week, with only now and then a lull.

The Austrian batteries bombarded not only Belgrade, but Semendria, Gradishte and a number of other points along the river bank. Next they were seen building a pontoon bridge out to one of the little islands in the river, opposite the city and barges were towed alongside the landings on the opposite shore, presently to be crowded with black masses of Austrian troops. Naturally, the Serbian gunners made these objects the targets of their fire. But these were mere bluffs, such feints as the skilled boxer makes when he wants to get behind the guard of his opponent. If anything, these demonstrations only served to deepen the conviction of General Putnik that the real danger was not from this quarter.

But where was the first great blow to strike? Naturally, not only the General Staff, but the whole army and population waited in deep anxiety. This tension lasted over the last days of July, into the first week of August, 1914.

Then, on August 6, 1914, some Bosnian peasants, Serbs, appeared and reported that they had seen great bodies of soldiers moving along the mountain roads toward Syrmia, in northeastern Bosnia. Two days later, early in the morning, two Austrian aeroplanes whirred over the River Save and circled over Krupani, Shaoatz and Valievo. The last doubts were then dispelled; the attack was coming from the east.

And finally, on August 12, 1914, the message flashed over the wires that the outposts had seen boats in movement, full of soldiers, behind an island on the Drina, opposite Loznitza. Near that town, and in fact along the whole lower course of the Drina, the river has frequently changed its channel, thus cutting out numerous small islands, which would serve as a screen to the movements of troops contemplating a crossing. Pontoon bridges could be built on the farther side of almost any of these islands without being observed from the other shore. This was exactly what the Austrians were doing.

Suddenly, on August 12, 1914, there came a burst of rifle fire and the boom of heavy field guns, and a fleet of barges, under cover of this fire, emerged from around both ends of one of these islands and made for the Serbian shore. The two battalions of Third Reserve Serbians, stationed there as an outpost, trained their old De Bange field guns, of which they had two batteries, on the oncoming swarms and began firing. But the Austrian fire became heavier and heavier; a blast of steel pellets and shells swept through the cornfields and the plum orchards, tearing through the streets of the village and crumpling up the houses. The breastworks of the small Serbian detachment were literally the center of a continuous explosion of shells.

When a full tenth of their number lay dead or disabled, the Serbians began retiring across the cornfields and up the slopes leading to the heights behind Losnitza. There, on higher ground, which offered more effective shelter, they made a determined stand and continued their fire on the Austrian masses.

Having crossed the river, the Austrians threw up defensive breastworks and dug elaborate trenches, thus fortifying their crossing. Next they built a pontoon bridge, and then the main Austrian army poured across; a whole army corps and two divisions of a second.

Meanwhile, on the same day, August 12, 1914, a similar event was happening at Shabatz, on the Save, where that river takes a sharp southward turn and then swings up again before joining the Danube at Belgrade. Here the country is a level plain, really the southern limit of the great plain which stretches up to the Danube, past Belgrade and so into Hungary. Here, too, the Austrians screened themselves behind an island in the river, then hurled their forces across, driving the feeble detachment of Third Reserve Serbian troops back across the plain up into the hills lying to the southeast of Shabatz. Then the advance guard of the Austrian Fourth Army occupied the town, strongly fortified it and built a pontoon bridge across the river from their railroad terminus at Klenak.

Further passages of a similar nature were forced that day, August 12, 1914, at other points by smaller forces; one at Zvornik and another at Liubovia. In addition the Austrians also threw bridges across the river at Amajlia and Branjevo. Thus it will be seen that the invasion covered a front of considerably over a hundred miles and that six strong columns of the enemy had crossed, all of which naturally converged on Valievo. For Valievo was the terminus of a small, single track railroad which joined the main line at Mladenovatz. Thus the Austrians would have a convenient side door open into the heart of Serbia which was, of course, their main objective. To this Belgrade was merely incidental. With this line of transport and communication in Austrian hands, Belgrade would fall of itself.

From Losnitza, where the main column of Austrians crossed the Drina to Valievo, runs the River Jadar, along a level valley, which narrows as it nears Valievo. On the left-hand side of the Jadar Valley rise the southern slopes of the Tzer Mountains, covered with cornfields, prune orchards, with here and there a stretch of thick timber. Continuing southward, slightly to the eastward, up the Jadar Valley another range rises, slightly smaller than the Tzer Mountains, forming a smaller valley which branches off eastward. Along this runs the River Leshnitza, parallel with the Jadar until it makes an independent junction with the Drina. Still farther up the valley the foothills of the Iverak ridges are lost in a series of fairly important summits which closely flank the Jadar River.

To the south of the Jadar River the valley stretches into a rolling plain, which rises abruptly into the giant Guchevo Mountains. It is this range, converging with the Tzer and Iverak Mountains toward Valievo, and forming the plain of the Jadar Valley, which was presently to become the center of the first great battle between the Serbians and Austrians.

A military movement against Valievo, therefore, demanded complete possession of these two ridges, which overlooked the line of march. This the Austrians knew well enough, even before the first of their troops had crossed the Drina. As is well known, the best maps, not only of Serbia but of all the Balkan countries, have been made by Austrian engineers. There was probably not a spur, not a fissure, certainly not a trail, of these mountains that had not been carefully surveyed and measured by engineers of the Austrian staff.

The Austrians knew the country they were invading quite as well as did the native Serbians. All through it may be said that it was not through want of accurate knowledge that the Austrians finally met disaster. Rather was it because they misjudged the relative values of their facts. And one of their first mistakes was in overestimating the effects of the two Balkan Wars on the efficiency of the Serbian army. First of all, as was obvious from the leisureliness with which they proceeded to occupy the two mountain chains in question, that they vastly misjudged the capacity of the Serbian troops to make rapid movements. Even as the first shots were being fired across the Drina at Losnitza, the Serbian forces were on the move, westward. Two army corps were at once rushed toward the Valley of the Jadar; part of a third was sent to block the advance of the Austrians from Shabatz. Meanwhile the Austrians took their time. For two days they busied themselves fortifying the bridge at Losnitza.

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CHAPTER XLIX

THE GREAT BATTLES BEGIN

On August 14, 1914, began the first battle of the Serbian campaign. The Austrians proceeded to storm the heights from which the small outpost detachments had all the time been bombarding them with its old-fashioned guns. The Serbians, though few in number, made a desperate resistance. It was their business to hold back the enemy as long as possible, even until the reenforcements should arrive.

Early in the morning of August 14, 1914, the Austrians advanced in a great mass, then charged up the hillsides toward the Serbian position. The Serbians waited until they were well up the steep slopes and the rush of the enemy had subsided to a more toilsome climb. Then they sent down volley after volley from every available weapon.

The Austrian soldiers, who had until then never experienced anything more warlike than field maneuvers, lost their nerves; the first line broke and ran at the first fire. However, that was likely to happen to any troops under fire for the first time. Down in the plain they formed again, and again they swept up the slopes. This time they did not turn at the first volley. On they came, with fixed bayonets. And presently the first line reached the top of the heights, and the fighting was hand-to-hand. For a moment the Serbians, overwhelmed by numbers, were on the point of fleeing. But these same men had been through many a hand-to-hand encounter with both Turks and Bulgars; that experience stood them in good stead. And again they swept back the attacking masses of Austria-Hungary.

By evening, August 14, 1914, the Austrians had not yet taken the heights. But the Serbians, most of them middle-aged and old men, had spent their vitality. As the dark night lowered over the scene, they fell back, until, at Jarebitze, they met the first advance guards of the oncoming Serbian main army. And here they halted, and the united forces proceeded to dig a trench on a ten-mile front, extending from north to south, through the town and clear across the Jadar Valley. Nor did the Austrians then attempt to follow up this first success. Thus the Serbians were allowed to intrench themselves unmolested until, next day, August 15, 1914, they were joined by the balance of their forces.

Now, by studying the map, it will be seen at a glance that it was only the Tzer Mountains which separated the Austrian column crossing the Drina at Losnitza and the column which had crossed the Save and had occupied Shabatz. Should the Austrians from over the Drina get possession of the Tzer ridges, they would thus effect a junction with the forces in Shabatz, and so form a line that would cut off a large portion of northwestern Serbia. Aside from that, they would have a solid front. But should the Serbians possess themselves of the Tzer ridges first, then they would have driven a wedge in between their two main forces. This would make it difficult for either to advance, for then they would be exposing a flank to the enemy, who would also have a great advantage in position. Moreover, the Serbians would be in a position to turn immediately toward either of the Austrians' columns, whichever might need most attention.

Meanwhile, the Serbian cavalry had made a reconnaissance toward Shabatz. They immediately sent back reports of overwhelming forces occupying the town. It was out of the question to make any attack there for the present.

It was now learned, for the first time, that another of the enemy's columns had crossed the Drina far down in the south, and was marching on Krupanie, just below the Guchevo Mountains and on the way to the upper part of the Jadar Valley. However, as the first report seemed to indicate that this was only a minor force, a small force of third reserve men was detached to hold this force back and prevent its entrance into the main field of operations.

During the day and night of August 15,1914, the two opposing forces were moving into position for battle: setting the pawns for the game of strategy that was to be played. The Austrians at Losnitza were advancing up the mountain slopes and took possession of the Tzer and Iverak ridges, straddling the Leshnitza Valley.

Up in Shabatz, Austrian troops were pouring across the pontoon bridges. A flanking column, coming from the Drina, had arrived at Slepehevitch. Another force was stationed with its left and center on Krupani, its right spread out into the mountains north of Liubovia.

On the Serbian side the right wing of the Second Army, screened by the cavalry division, were preparing to cut off the Austrian forces in the north from their juncture with those advancing along the Tzer ridges; the center and left was marching on the enemy on the Iverak ridges, in conjunction with the right of the Third Army, then north of Jarebitze. The center of the Third held the positions south of Jarebitze, while its left, split into small detachments, had been directed to oppose the invasion toward Krupanie and the advance from Liubovia.

Such were the positions of the various forces as dawn broke brightly on the morning of August 16, 1914. As the growing light made objects visible, the extreme right division of the Serbian front, which was creeping northward to cut off Shabatz, discovered a strong Austrian column moving along the lower spurs of the Tzer Mountains. Obviously this body was clearing the ground for a general descent of the forces up along the ridges; a whole army corps. This movement threatened to become a serious obstacle to the Serbian plan of separating the Austrians in Shabatz from those farther south. But the situation was saved by one of those incidents which sometimes stand out above the savagery of warfare and give to it a touch of grandeur.

A young artillery officer, Major Djukitch, of the Fourth Artillery Regiment, asked permission to go out and meet this body of advancing Austrians with but a single cannon. He would create a diversion which would give the Serbians time to adapt themselves to the changed conditions, though the chances were very largely in favor of his losing his life on this mission. Permission was granted. Calling on volunteers from his command, he advanced with his single cannon and took up a position in the path of the approaching enemy. The moment he opened fire the Austrians, naturally not realizing that only one cannon was opposing them, and believing that a large Serbian force had surprised them, broke into a panic. Half an hour after he had opened fire, the Serbian field commander sent a messenger to Major Djukitch, ordering him to retire. In reply he sent a message to the commander, describing the confusion he had created in the Austrian ranks, and instead of retiring, he asked for reenforcements. The balance of his own battery, a detachment of infantry, and a cavalry division was sent him. The result was that the Austrian column was temporarily driven back into the mountains. Hastily re-forming, the Austrians now massed along a line extending from Belikamen to Radlovatz, while the Serbians deployed along a front running from Slatina through Metkovitch to Gusingrob.

At 11 a. m., August 16, 1914, the two opposing forces opened fire in earnest, up and down the line. All day the cannon roared and the rifles and machine guns crackled; now and again the Austrians would shoot forth from their line a sharp infantry attack, but these were repulsed, with more and more difficulty as the day advanced, for the Serbians were much inferior in numbers. Toward evening their situation became very critical. Yet every part of the line held out desperately, knowing that reenforcements were being hurried forward from the rear as fast as men could move.

And just before dark, along the roads from the eastward, came the distant cheers from the advancing columns. An officer dashed up on horseback shouting encouragement to the battered men in the trenches. A cheer arose, which rolled up and down the line. Again it rose, then, even before it had died out, with wild yells the Serbians sprang over their breastworks and swept madly across the intervening space to the Austrian lines; smashing through cornfields, over rocks, through the tall grass of orchards. At their heels followed the reenforcing soldiers, though they had that day marched nearly sixty miles. Over the Austrian breastworks they surged, like an angry wave from the sea, their bayonets gleaming in the sunset glow. It was the kind of fighting they knew best; the kind that both Serbians and Bulgars know best, the kind they had practiced most.

Small wonder if the inexperienced peasants from the plains of Hungary, unused till then to any sight more bloody than a brawl in the village inn, trembled before this onslaught. Their officers shouted encouragement and oaths, barely audible above the mad yells of the Serbians. Nevertheless, they gave way before the gleaming line of bayonet blades before them. Some few rose to fight, stirred by some long-submerged instinct generated in the days of Genghis Khan. But the majority turned and fled, helter-skelter, down the sides of the mountains toward the valleys, leaving behind guns, ammunition, and cannon. One regiment, the Hundred and Second, stood its ground and fought. As a result it was almost completely annihilated. The same fate befell the Ninety-fourth Regiment. But the majority sought and found safety in flight. By dark the whole Austrian center was beaten back, leaving behind great quantities of war material.

* * * * *

CHAPTER L

FIRST VICTORY OF THE SERBIANS

The Serbians had made their first move successfully on that day of August 16, 1914. More important than this mere preliminary defeat of the enemy was the fact that the Austrians in Shabatz were now definitely cut off from any possible juncture with the Austrians in the south. For the present they were debarred from entering the main field of operations. This freed the Serbian cavalry for action elsewhere. Meanwhile a portion of the right wing of the Serbian line was detached to keep the Austrians inside Shabatz.

Farther to the south the Serbians were not so decidedly successful. The center of the Serbian Second Army, that directed against the southern slopes of the Tzer Mountains and the Iverak ridges, had arrived at Tekerish at midnight.

As dawn broke on August 16, 1914, they perceived a strong Austrian column descending from above, coming in the same direction. Unfortunately the Serbians were in the midst of bald, rolling foothills, while the Austrians were up among the tall timber which clothes the mountain slopes at this point. The Serbians deployed, extending their line from Bornololye through Parlok to Lisena, centering their artillery at Kik. The Austrians made the best of their superior position.

For some hours there was furious firing, then, at about eight o'clock the Austrian gunners got the range of the Serbian left flank with their field pieces, which was compelled to fall back. But just then timely reenforcements arrived from the rear, and the Serbians dug themselves in. By evening the Serbians had lost over a thousand men, though they had succeeded in taking 300 prisoners and several machine guns from the Austrians.

The left wing of the Second Army had, in the meantime, arrived against Iverak. That this division was able to arrive at such a timely juncture was due to its having made a forced march of fifty-two miles over the mountain roads during the previous day. Yet before dawn on the morning of August 16,1914, it was ready to continue its march to Poporparlok. But then came the news that the Austrians had driven back the left wing of the Third Army from that position and had occupied it.

The situation in which this division found itself was by no means clear. Nothing had been heard from Shabatz. The division operating along the Tzer ridges had been badly hammered. The Third Army had lost Poporparlok. The commander decided to stay where he was and simply hold the ground against any advance of the enemy from Iverak. This division was, therefore, intrenched along a line from Begluk to Kik, and a strong advance was thrown out toward Kugovitchi. During the morning this advance guard made a strong attack against Kugovitchi, drove the Austrians out, and established themselves there.

At dawn, August 16, 1914, the left flank of this division, at Begluk, was shelled by the Austrian artillery, which was followed by infantry attacks. These were easily repulsed during the day. But then the enemy was reenforced, and late that night they came on again in great masses. The Serbians allowed them to almost reach their trenches: then, emptying the magazines of their rifles at them, they piled themselves over their breastworks and into them with bayonets and hand bombs. This was too much for the Austrians; they fled in wild disorder.

Least encouraging was the experience of the Serbian Third Army, which was defending the territory south of the Iverak Mountains. Here the Austrians developed a vigorous and persistent offensive, hoping to turn the Serbian left and thus capture the road to Valievo.

The attack on the positions at Jarebitze commenced at daybreak on August 16, 1914. Here the Serbians held good ground: rocky summits, but so limited in extent that there was room only for a few companies at a time. On the other hand the ground before them was broken up into hollows screened by growing corn. This enabled the Austrians to deploy their lines beyond the Serbian flanks unseen. They did execute just such a movement, and attempted to circle around toward the Serbian rear.

At the same time the Serbians here were attacked from in front by another hostile column which had come from across the plain on the south side of the Jadar valley, where hollows, sunken roads, and fields of corn again formed ample screening. However, in spite of all these movements, the Serbians were able to hold their own. The Austrian attacks were all beaten back. Their position might have been held indefinitely, but developments to the south were taking on a threatening form.

It will be remembered that an Austrian force had been reported approaching from the south, moving on Krupanie, and that it had seemed so insignificant that a small detachment of third reserve troops had been sent to hold it back. But this enemy force now developed into three mountain brigades.

Reenforcements of infantry and mountain artillery were hurried down to support the retaining force, but the Austrians were able to force their way on toward Zavlaka. Seeing Valievo thus threatened, the Serbians retired from their position at Jarebitze and took up a new position along a line from Marianovitche to Schumer, thus enabling them to face both the enemy columns. This retreat was fortunately not interfered with by the Austrians, though in executing it the Serbian artillery, which had been in position on the right bank of the Jadar, was obliged to pass along the Austrian front in single file, in order to gain the main road.

Early the next morning, August 17, 1914, the Serbians were in position and had extended their line to Soldatovitcha, whence the detachment from Krupanie had retired. Summing up the day's fighting, and considering it as a whole, it will be seen that the Austrians had pretty well held their own, except on their extreme left, where they had failed to get in touch with their forces in Shabatz.

After the defeat of the Austrians at Belikamen on August 16, 1914, the cavalry division was reenforced by some infantry and artillery, then sent on the delicate mission of driving a wedge in between the Austrians in Shabatz and those along the Drina. Spreading out across the Matchva plain, its left wing up against the slopes of the Tzer Mountains, and its right wing within reach of Shabatz, it advanced as far as Dublje in the north. At the same time it was able to assist the column advancing along the Tzer ridges by playing its artillery on the Austrian position in the mountains at Troyan. Throughout all the fighting this cavalry division rendered notable service by its dismounted action.

On the morning of August 17, 1914, the extreme right of the Serbian front now turned toward Shabatz. Though only half the number of the forces they were proceeding to engage, they continued onward. But on closer approach it became apparent that they could do nothing more than hold the Austrians inside the town. So well and so thoroughly had the Austrians fortified themselves that it was hopeless for so small a force to attempt an attack. Thus this section of the Serbian front settled down to wait for reenforcements.

The center and left of the Second Army now prepared to advance along the Tzer and Iverak ridges. The Austrians in this section, who had suffered so severely the day before at Belikamen, were now concentrated around Troyan, the most easterly and the second highest peak of the chain.

At dawn on August 17, 1914, the Serbians located the Austrians. Immediately they began a heavy artillery fire on this position, then proceeded to infantry attack. Two regiments hurled themselves up the slopes, and with bayonets and hand bombs drove the Austrians back. After that no further progress was possible that day, the Serbians having to wait for their artillery to come up. The Austrians now began intrenching themselves on the heights of Kosaningrad, the loftiest portion of the Tzer range.

Along the Iverak ridges the Austrians made a determined advance. The situation of the Serbian troops in this section, the left wing of the Second Army, was extremely dangerous, for their left flank was becoming exposed by the continued retreat of the Third Army. The only hopeful aspect of their situation was that the Austrians were also having their left flank exposed by the retreat of the Austrians along the Tzer ridges. Evidently the opposing forces realized this fact, for they made a fierce attempt to drive back the Serbians opposing them, so that their danger from the north might be lessened. Half an hour later they were severely repulsed. But heavy reenforcements came up to the Austrians just then, and again they attacked, this time more successfully.