The “Cinderella” Platoon

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Later I had a compensation on the military level, when my battalion had to capture a farm and its buildings. The first assault through barbed wire fences failed. My platoon was in reserve, awaiting orders in a large pigsty (empty, though clean), when a word came to go forward in an attack.

I knew nothing of the layout, so I took the men the only way that seemed feasible to me: along the grassy verge to the farm buildings. Surprisingly, we found no barbed wire, but only a large tree felled to block the road. We climbed over that and then found ourselves in a muddy sunken road, which was common around French farms. Thus we had slipped behind the German trenches.

The Germans had made dugouts in the banks of the sunken road, which increased our sense of danger. As I led the way, I fired two revolver shots in the darkness upon hearing the voices of two approaching men. This must have surprised and frightened them in the pitch darkness, for
except for some raised voices and gasps they seemed to disappear.

We went along breaking into the dugouts beside the road. In one I found a soldier on his knees screaming, “Kamerad, kamerad!”—to be spared.
His shouts could well have roused the others to our presence, and so my men behind me kept calling out, “Kill him, Sir. Kill him, Sir.” There was a nervous moment when I had my revolver cocked in my hand. How thankful I am that I couldn’t do it and sent him back as a prisoner.

I was awarded the Military Cross for the capture of the Tombois Farm and my sergeant the Military Medal! Thus cheaply is military glory awarded! And thank God for sparing me another kind of shame—by saving, not killing the frightened soldier. As I had been faithful by grace in my witness, though despised and refused promotion by my colonel, it was also the despised kind of “Cinderella” platoon—left behind in a pigsty
which was called on as a last resort to make the attack which ultimately captured the farm and won decoration. When we the in faith, we return
to live in fact!