The retreat had continued for several days already.
After the fall of Bucharest, the roads leading northeast across Romania turned into one endless stream of men, wagons, and retreating formations.
Now the army was no longer moving toward new positions.
It was escaping destruction.
The weather was gradually changing.
The mud that had slowed movement only days earlier was now beginning to freeze. At night the roads turned to ice, wagon wheels became trapped in frozen ruts, and horses increasingly collapsed in the middle of the march.
Romanian infantry moved slowly along the road.
Many soldiers had barely slept for several days. Some marched without greatcoats lost during the retreat from Bucharest. Others no longer carried full equipment.
But the columns continued moving northeast all the same.
—"Did Bucharest really fall?" one of the soldiers asked quietly.
The sergeant beside him remained silent for several seconds.
Then answered heavily:
—"We withdrew through the eastern districts ourselves."
A pause.
—"The city is lost."
For some time the soldiers marched in silence.
Only the creaking of wheels and the distant sound of artillery somewhere far to the west could be heard.
Another soldier finally asked:
—"Where now?"
The sergeant looked ahead at the endless column along the road.
—"To the Siret."
Many no longer knew exactly where the new defensive line even stood.
Rumors spread faster than orders.
Some claimed the Germans were already approaching Iași.
Others said Russian formations were occupying new positions along the river.
Still others believed the army would soon retreat all the way toward the Russian border.
Command and control was still recovering after the catastrophe at Bucharest.
Some formations had lost contact with their headquarters several days earlier.
Units became mixed together on the roads.
Officers attempted to reorganize companies and battalions while still on the march.
At one crossroads, a Romanian captain halted a column.
—"Which unit?" he asked quickly.
—"Remnants of the Second Battalion."
The captain looked at the men.
Then at the officer.
—"Where is the rest of the regiment?"
The officer shook his head tiredly.
—"I don't know."
For several seconds both men remained silent.
Then the captain gave a short nod.
—"Continue moving. The new assembly point will be beyond the Siret."
The column began moving again.
More and more abandoned wagons, shattered artillery pieces, and dead horses lined the roadsides.
Some supply columns had been abandoned during the night after the roads became completely blocked.
Far behind them, distant artillery explosions could still be heard.
The front was still retreating.
But now more slowly.
During one halt, soldiers warmed themselves beside a small fire.
—"They say the Russians are already taking positions along the river," one of them said.
Another gave a grim smile.
—"If they get there before the Germans."
The sergeant looked westward.
Toward the smoke still rising along the distant horizon.
—"They'll have to," he said quietly.
That night the temperature dropped even lower.
The columns continued marching almost entirely in darkness.
Horses breathed heavily in the freezing air.
Wheels creaked over the hardening mud.
But for the first time in many weeks, soldiers began speaking not only about retreat.
But about a new defensive line.
About the river.
About Russian reinforcements.
About the possibility that the front might finally stop collapsing farther east.
Iași had changed beyond recognition within only a few weeks.
Not long before, the city had lived the ordinary life of a rear Romanian administrative center. Now Iași was being flooded continuously with government trains, officers, officials, hospitals, supply columns, and the remnants of retreating formations.
The streets were overcrowded.
The railway station operated almost without pause.
On one of the platforms, soldiers unloaded crates containing ministry archives beside wounded men who had just arrived from the front.
Nearby, officers attempted to clear space for newly arriving trains.
—"Move faster! Clear the tracks!" a railway official shouted.
But the number of trains only kept growing.
Some stood motionless for hours while waiting for open rail lines.
There were almost no free buildings left in the city.
Schools were being turned into hospitals.
Administrative buildings into headquarters.
Even hotels were overflowing with officers and government officials.
Inside one of the new headquarters buildings, several Romanian generals and ministers stood around a large map.
The center of government was now here.
In Iași.
One of the ministers lowered himself into a chair tiredly.
—"We lost the capital."
For several seconds, nobody answered.
Then one of the generals spoke calmly.
—"But the army still exists."
Another officer looked toward the map of northeastern Romania.
—"As long as the front holds, the state still lives."
A heavy silence settled across the room.
Because everyone understood:
they were no longer speaking about victory.
But about the survival of the country itself.
The door opened.
A communications officer entered quickly.
—"New reports from the Siret."
Several men immediately looked up.
The officer opened his folder.
—"Russian formations continue occupying defensive positions along the river. Engineering units are constructing fortifications and preparing the bridges for demolition in case of a breakthrough."
One of the generals exhaled slowly.
—"So the line is forming after all."
Another officer nodded.
—"The front is shorter there. And the river itself provides a strong defensive position."
One of the ministers asked quietly:
—"And if the Germans reach it first?"
This time the chief of staff answered.
—"Then we lose Moldavia."
A pause.
—"And possibly Romania itself."
Outside, another arriving train could already be heard.
The city continued filling with people.
More and more Russian officers and soldiers appeared in the streets.
New headquarters were being established.
Engineering formations moved south and west almost without stopping.
At the railway station, a Romanian officer watched another Russian train slowly pull alongside the platform.
Soldiers in gray greatcoats were already climbing out of the wagons.
Artillery began unloading behind them.
Someone nearby said quietly:
—"Without them, we would already be finished."
The Romanian officer remained silent for several seconds.
Then answered slowly:
—"Now the only thing that matters is whether they can entrench themselves before the Germans arrive here."
Late that evening, maps were being studied once more inside headquarters.
But the conversations sounded different now than they had during the retreat from Bucharest.
Then they had spoken about saving the army.
Now they spoke about where the front could finally be held.
The chief of staff moved his hand slowly along the line of the Siret.
From the Carpathians.
Southward.
—"If we hold the river," he said quietly, —"then we hold Romania."
The Siret line was gradually becoming a new front.
Only several weeks earlier, the region had contained little more than rear-area detachments and small garrisons. Now trains, supply columns, and engineering formations moved continuously along the river.
The front itself was being transferred here.
Railway stations operated almost around the clock.
Russian soldiers quickly disembarked from the trains and immediately formed marching columns for movement toward the river. Behind them came artillery, ammunition crates, engineering equipment, and materials for fortifications.
On one sector, an engineering officer stood beside the bank of the Siret, watching the work.
Soldiers dug fresh trenches into the frozen ground.
Behind them, engineers prepared demolition charges on the bridges in case the enemy broke through.
A Russian general slowly looked along the river.
—"The front is shorter here."
The officer beside him nodded.
—"And the river itself gives us a strong defensive line."
The general remained silent for several seconds.
Then calmly added:
—"For the first time in months, we finally have a position that can actually be held."
Artillery gradually deployed along both sides of the river.
Heavy guns occupied prepared positions on the heights overlooking the crossings and roads.
Romanian formations retreating from Bucharest slowly filled the sectors between the arriving Russian troops.
Many looked exhausted after weeks of continuous retreat.
But for the first time in a long while, the soldiers saw not another road leading east.
But prepared defenses.
At one crossing point, a Romanian officer stopped beside a Russian captain supervising the construction of fortifications.
—"Do you think they'll try to cross immediately?" the Romanian asked.
The Russian officer looked toward the opposite bank.
—"They will."
A pause.
—"But this is not Bucharest anymore."
The Romanian remained silent for several seconds.
Then nodded slowly.
Along the Siret, the sounds of axes, shovels, and moving artillery grew louder every hour.
The front was no longer retreating.
It was rebuilding itself.
On some sectors, soldiers had already begun laying wire obstacles.
Engineers inspected bridges.
Signal units laid new communication lines between headquarters and artillery positions.
Russian officers carefully studied maps of possible crossing sectors.
Especially areas where the current was weaker or where the approaches to the river were more accessible.
One of the generals stopped beside a map.
—"If the enemy attempts a breakthrough, they'll most likely strike here."
He pointed farther south.
—"The terrain there allows pontoons to be deployed faster."
Another officer gave a grim smile.
—"Then that's where our artillery will meet them."
By evening, the first fully organized defensive positions already stood along the Siret.
Trenches.
Machine-gun positions.
Artillery batteries.
Reserves.
For the first time in the entire Romanian campaign, the front was beginning to look stable.
On one sector, Romanian soldiers warmed themselves beside a small fire near a Russian artillery battery.
One silently dried his greatcoat.
Another ate directly from a mess tin.
One of the Romanian soldiers asked quietly:
—"Do you think they'll break through here too?"
The Russian artilleryman looked toward the dark line of the river.
Then answered calmly:
—"Let them try crossing first."
The first attempts to break through began several days later.
The Central Powers were still trying to end the campaign with one final blow before the Romanian front fully stabilized. German and Bulgarian commanders understood that if the Russians completed their defenses along the Siret, the war in Romania would turn into a long positional struggle.
So the attacks began almost immediately after the forward formations reached the river.
That morning, artillery worked over the defensive line for hours.
First came isolated ranging shots.
Then a full bombardment.
Shells exploded along the riverbank, striking trenches, roads, and artillery positions.
Earth and snow rose together through smoke and shattered ice.
Russian and Romanian soldiers waited silently inside the trenches.
—"They'll move soon," one of the sergeants said quietly.
Almost immediately, shouted commands began carrying across the river from the opposite bank.
Several minutes later, observers noticed movement near the water.
—"Pontoons!" an officer shouted.
On several sectors, German engineers attempted to deploy crossings under the cover of artillery and machine-gun fire.
Behind them, assault detachments began moving toward the river.
A Russian captain raised his binoculars.
—"Let them come closer."
Nearby, an artillery officer already stood beside his battery.
—"Range?"
—"A little more."
The machine guns remained silent.
The soldiers in the trenches waited.
The first pontoons were already appearing on the river.
Engineers struggled to secure the structures under continuous fire.
—"Now," the captain said calmly.
—"Fire."
Machine guns immediately erupted across the line.
Almost simultaneously, artillery thundered from the heights behind the riverbank.
Shells began exploding directly among the crossings.
One pontoon overturned almost immediately.
Men and shattered planks disappeared into the freezing water.
But the crossing attempt continued.
German and Bulgarian formations attempted to push more assault groups across while artillery continued hammering Russian and Romanian positions.
—"They're trying to establish themselves on the bank!" an observer shouted.
The captain turned sharply.
—"Move reserves to the second trench line! Don't let them reach the main positions!"
Several groups still managed to reach the opposite shore.
A fierce firefight immediately broke out near the trenches.
Romanian infantry opened heavy fire almost point-blank.
Russian machine guns struck from the flank.
One German officer attempted to push his men forward, but almost immediately fell under the fire.
—"They're pulling back!" someone shouted from the right flank.
But on a neighboring sector, Central Powers artillery intensified the bombardment once again.
New engineering detachments attempted to move additional pontoons toward the river.
A Russian general watched the battle from a command position on the heights.
A communications officer hurried toward him.
—"The enemy is attempting to expand the crossing farther south."
The general looked first at the map.
Then toward the river.
—"Shift the artillery fire there."
A pause.
—"And prepare a counterattack if any of them manage to establish a bridgehead."
By midday, the entire line along the Siret thundered with artillery fire.
But now the front looked completely different from the retreat toward Bucharest.
Then the army had merely been trying to survive.
Now it was holding prepared defensive positions.
On one sector, German formations managed to establish a temporary foothold near the riverbank.
Several assault groups reached the first trench line.
Fighting with grenades and bayonets erupted almost immediately.
A Romanian officer drew his revolver.
—"Do not fall back!"
Russian reserves arrived within minutes.
The counterattack struck the breakthrough force from the flank.
Gradually, the fighting shifted back toward the river.
Machine guns continued firing across the crossings.
Artillery destroyed pontoon after pontoon.
The freezing water carried the wreckage downstream.
By evening, the intensity of the battle slowly began to fade.
The large breakthrough attempt had failed.
On the opposite bank, scattered firing still continued, but the major assaults were already ending.
An officer slowly lowered his binoculars.
—"It didn't work."
The Russian general watched the river silently for several seconds.
Then answered calmly:
—"Because for the first time in months, the front has finally stopped moving."