Following the last blog that addressed the 25 August 1914 Battle of Baccarat. We will now jump forward to January 1917. To set the stage, previous blogs have covered aspects of IR 169’s 18 month posting in the Somme, spanning March 1915 – December 1916.
After finally being relived from the Serre trenches, IR 169, along with the rest of the 52nd Division, was pulled back for a short rest period, lasting only from 1-12 January 1917. The next assignment returned IR 169 to familiar grounds closer to their Baden home; the Alsace, and the very southern portion of the Western Front.
On January 13, the 52nd Division boarded trains for a 300 mile trip that eventually took them to the town of Altkirch, only 12 miles from the junction of the French/German/Swiss border. The front lines here had remained, more or less, in the same location since September 1914. The center of this picturesque town was dominated by the 19th Century Church of Notre-Dame de l’Assomption, which sits atop a steep hill mass. The town population was evacuated in early 1915. The veteran IR 169 infantrymen were pleasantly surprised to see how little battle damage was inflicted on the town, especially considering the front lines were only 1200 meters north.
IR 169’s new area of responsibility was a three-mile sector of line centered in Altkirch, with the left flank anchored at the village of Carspach and the northern sector at Aspach. French lines were dug in 600 meters to the west. The regiment was replacing a German reserve unit. Some of the 2nd Battalion men received an orientation from an older Landstrum soldier as they took over trenches west of Carspach. The IR 169 soldiers marveled at the comfortable qualities of the trench and its spacious bunkers. The boarded trench floor were swept clean on a daily basis. Bunkers were covered with 1.5 meters of earth and machine gun bunkers and artillery observation posts were made of concrete. The Lanstrumer warned the 169 troops ‘not to provoke the French,’ as his unit had not experienced any casualties for months. Indeed, conditions were such that German regimental bands entertained the soldiers in Sunday morning concerts from the Altkirch church plaza. The IR 169 troops needed little further encouragement to sustain the peace, for after the hell of the Somme they were more than content to preserve the state of tranquility.
2nd MG Company Platoon Sergeant Otto Lais described this situation as a ‘trench paradise’ and how the men felt like they were on top of the world. Unseasonably warm weather suggested that an early spring might arrive. The regiment continued to rebuild and the ranks swelled with new recruits – Baden men who came from IR 169’s garrison induction and training pipelines in Lahr and Villingen. The occasional shots that rang between the trenches were aimed at small game. Lais summarized, “The idea of shooting another human being came from neither side.”
This sense of trench warfare tranquility was not to last. The first sign of trouble came not long after IR 169’s arrival in Altkirch. One evening, a great deal of noise from came from the French trenches. The sound of marching troops, rattling of equipment and truck engines made it clear that the placid French reservists were being replaced with new units. A German artillery battery located at the Monastery of St Morand, fired a salvo of harassing rounds towards the French lines. Artillery fire echoed through valley as the French replied with a barrage three-times the power of the German shelling.
The artillery contest continued the following days. The Altkirch plaza, recently the site of concerts, was now under a steady rain of exploding shrapnel. At Carspach, troubling signs were visible with the observation a new French sap trench being constructed. Soon, the sap trench extended 300 meters into the no-man’s-land, half the distance between the two lines. A German reconnaissance patrol, led by Master Sergeant Spies, took up position in a reedy marsh beyond the German trenches. Spies, whose future wartime exploits are told by Lais in coming blogs, was the regiment’s preeminent small-unit combat leader. Lais, as well as the rest of the regiment, held Spies in deep regard. Lais recorded these memories:
“Spies, our most successful patrol leader, was a physically small, amiable and very modest man. In civil life, he was a baker, and came to the unit as a reservist replacement. He quickly rose through the ranks to NCO, warrant officer and eventually Leutnant, and was highly respected by his men. He was awarded with the Baden Gold Order for Gallantry, a highly prized medal that came with a life-time annuity. There were hardly more than 20 awarded of these in the entire war.”
Spies and his men lay undetected in the reeds for two days, carefully watching the French pioneers at work and formulating plans for a trench raid to gather some intelligence.
The attack was set for late on the following evening. White clouds covered the moon, making for a dark night. Spies guided a raiding party into a position close to the sap trench. Earlier that day, Lais laid his squad’s machine gun into a position perfectly situated to fire into the targeted trench. The firing of the machine gun would initiate the attack, timed to begin at a predetermined hour. Lais anxiously glimpsed at the luminous dial of his watch, waiting for the exact moment to pull the trigger. He recalled the evening being dead-still, except for the faint noise of the French pioneers digging inside the targeted trench. Finally, Lais’ watch marked zero hour, and his machine gun thundered as a full belt was fired into the sap. The ceasing of the machine gun burst was the signal for the raiding party’s attack. In seconds, Spies’ squad leaped into the sap trench and set into the stunned defenders. Moments later, Lais heard the labored breathing of the raiders returning back to the German trench with a collection of French prisoners.
Some of the prisoners were demoralized but otherwise intact, others were grievously wounded and close to death. Spies hurried the unwounded prisoners back to regimental headquarters for immediate interrogation while the wounded were treated by German medics. Lais, who saw more than his share of death in the course of the war, was moved by the passing of one particular French soldier:
“We carefully placed the injured French pioneer from our arms and onto the firing platform. The medic examined his body for wounds. He pulled some debris from one of the wounds and looked up at me, saying “hopeless.” The signs of death were clear in the face of this French soldier. He pleaded at me with his large, fearful eyes. I took his hand as he moaned. The life goes from him as his eyes gaze in death. “Out” says the medic in a matter of fact voice, as he closes the eyelids shut. A young soldier who recently arrived from our home garrison watches this pensively, it is the first time he has seen a soldier die. …The moon comes from behind the clouds. The rest of the French dead are laid out on a path towards the rear. The gentle light of the stars flow over the fine, still French faces. Later, after midnight, the dead sappers are taken back to the St. Morand Monastery where its cemetery’s winter earth receives them.”
The interrogations revealed the prisoners were from a regular French pioneer unit attached to a colonial division, made up of men from north and central Africa. The rest of the night remained eerily quiet, prompting Corporal Pfefferle to remark at what all were fearing, “Strap your helmets on tight boys, it will be a sour morning.”
Pfefferle’s prophecy came true. The following day, the French detonated a massive mine from a tunnel dug below the German trenches, destroying an artillery observation post and a large section of a communication trench. An instant later, multiple French batteries from the front and both flanks opened furious bombardment. French guns had registered the exact ranges of the German trenches. Some of food carriers were caught in the open fields between Carspach and the communication trenches and caught the worst of the initial fire. One young German recruit, who was under fire for the first time, returned screaming and tumbling down the kitchen stairs with a bloodied arm. The veteran mess sergeant, Popp, soothed him with a comforting ‘come hear Sonny,’ as he bandaged the wounds. Another food carrier suffered a worse fate when his body was pulverized by a direct hit from a large caliber shell. Heavy shelling continued for the duration of IR 169’s posting in the once quiet trenches around Altkirch.
Lais summarized the losses of the regiment’s two-month stay at Altkirch:
“The bill, a result of error and confusion, is paid by the infantry on both sides in these ‘quiet’ trenches. The losses of IR 169 was two officers killed, including one of our very best [Lais referred to Lt. Otto Winter, the brother of Lt. Karl Winter, who was killed in the final November fighting at the Somme], and 88 men, including 21 dead. These are small losses compared to a major battle, but too much for adventure caused by needless hysteria.”
Citations are contained in the book Imperial Germany’s Iron Regiment of the First World War. www.ironregiment169.com