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diff --git a/old/51206.txt b/old/51206.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 462e3a4..0000000 --- a/old/51206.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12422 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, True Stories of the Great War, Volume VI (of -6), by Various, Edited by Francis Trevelyan Miller - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: True Stories of the Great War, Volume VI (of 6) - Tales of Adventure--Heroic Deeds--Exploits Told by the Soldiers, Officers, Nurses, Diplomats, Eye Witnesses - - -Author: Various - -Editor: Francis Trevelyan Miller - -Release Date: February 13, 2016 [eBook #51206] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRUE STORIES OF THE GREAT WAR, -VOLUME VI (OF 6)*** - - -E-text prepared by Brian Coe, Moti Ben-Ari, and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made -available by Internet Archive/American Libraries -(https://archive.org/details/americana) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 51206-h.htm or 51206-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/51206/51206-h/51206-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/51206/51206-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive/American Libraries. See - https://archive.org/details/truestoriesofgre06mill - - - - - -TRUE STORIES OF THE GREAT WAR - -Tales of Adventure--Heroic Deeds--Exploits -Told by the Soldiers, Officers, Nurses, -Diplomats, Eye Witnesses - -Collected in Six Volumes -From Official and Authoritative Sources -(See Introductory to Volume I) - -VOLUME VI - -Editor-in-Chief -FRANCIS TREVELYAN MILLER (Litt. D., LL.D.) -Editor of The Search-Light Library - - - - - - - -1917 -Review of Reviews Company -New York - -Copyright, 1917, by -Review of Reviews Company - - - - -CONTENTS - - - The Board of Editors has selected for VOLUME VI this group of - stories told by Soldiers and Army Officers direct from the battle-grounds - of the Great War. It includes 165 episodes and personal - adventures by forty-two story-tellers--"Tommies," "Boches," - "Poilus," Russians, Italians, Austrians, Turks, Belgians, Scotchmen, - Irishmen, Canadians, Americans--the "Best Stories of the - War" gathered from the most authentic sources, according to the - plan outlined in "Introductory" to Volume I. Full credit is given - in every instance to the original sources. - - VOLUME VI--FORTY STORY-TELLERS--165 EPISODES - - "BEHIND THE GERMAN VEIL"--WITH VON HINDENBURG 1 - RECORD OF A REMARKABLE WAR PILGRIMAGE - Told by Count Van Maurik De Beaufort - (Permission of Dodd, Mead and Company) - - "KITCHENER'S MOB"--ADVENTURES OF AN AMERICAN WITH - THE BRITISH ARMY 16 - UNCENSORED ACCOUNT OF A YOUNG VOLUNTEER - Told by James Norman Hall - (Permission of Houghton, Mifflin Company) - - "HOW BELGIUM SAVED EUROPE"--THE LITTLE KINGDOM - OF HEROES 32 - TRAGEDY OF THE BELGIANS - Told by Dr. Charles Sarolea - (Permission of J. B. Lippincott Company) - - THE BISHOP OF LONDON'S VISIT TO THE FRONT 43 - TAKING THE MESSAGE OF CHRIST TO THE BATTLE LINES - Told by The Reverend G. Vernon Smith - (Permission of Longmans, Green and Company) - - "GRAPES OF WRATH"--WITH THE "BIG PUSH" ON THE - SOMME 52 - TWENTY-FOUR HOURS IN THE LIFE OF A PRIVATE - SOLDIER - Told by Boyd Cable - (Permission of E. P. Dutton and Company) - - A NOVELIST AND SOLDIER ON THE BATTLE LINE 63 - Told by Coningsby Dawson - (Permission of John Lane Company) - - STORIES OF THE WAR PHOTOGRAPHERS IN BELGIUM 81 - AN AMERICAN AT THE BATTLEFRONT - Told by Albert Rhys Williams - (Permission of E. P. Dutton and Company) - - TALES OF THE FIRST BRITISH EXPEDITIONARY FORCE 94 - TO FRANCE - IMPRESSIONS OF A SUBALTERN - Told by "Casualty" (Name of Soldier Suppressed) - (Permission of J. B. Lippincott Company) - - IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY--EXPERIENCES OF A - PRISONER OF WAR 104 - Told by Benjamin G. O'Rorke, M. A. - (Permission of Longmans, Green and Company) - - "AT SUVLA BAY"--THE WAR AGAINST THE TURKS 117 - ADVENTURES ON THE BLUE AEGEAN SHORES - Told by John Hargrave - (Permission of Houghton, Mifflin Company) - - SEEING THE WAR THROUGH A WOMAN'S EYES 122 - SOUL-STIRRING DESCRIPTION OF SCENES AMONG THE - WOUNDED IN PARIS - Told by (Name Suppressed) - (Permission of New York American) - - LOST ON A SEAPLANE AND SET ADRIFT IN A MINE-FIELD 134 - ADVENTURES ON THE NORTH SEA - Told by a Seaplane Observer - (Permission of Wide World Magazine) - - HOW I HELPED TO TAKE THE TURKISH TRENCHES AT - GALLIPOLI 144 - AN AMERICAN BOY'S WAR ADVENTURES - Told by Wilfred Raymond Doyle - (Permission of New York World) - - "BIG BANG"--STORY OF AN AMERICAN ADVENTURER 156 - A TALE OF THE GREAT TRENCH MORTARS - Told by C. P. Thompson - (Permission of Wide World Magazine) - - "WITH OUR ARMY IN FLANDERS"--FIGHTING WITH TOMMY - ATKINS 165 - WHERE MEN HOLD RENDEZVOUS WITH DEATH - Told by G. Valentine Williams - (Permission of London Daily Mail) - - COMEDIES OF THE GREAT WAR 176 - TALES OF HUMOR ON THE FIGHTING LINES - Told by W. F. Martindale - (Permission of Wide World Magazine) - - LITTLE STORIES OF THE BIG WAR 188 - UNUSUAL ANECDOTES AT FIRST HAND - Told by Karl K. Kitchen in Germany - (Permission of New York World) - - POGROM--THE TRAGEDY OF THE JEWS AND THE ARMENIANS 194 - A MASTERFUL TALE OF THE EASTERN FRONT - Told by M. C. della Grazie - (Permission of New York Tribune) - - TALE OF THE SAVING OF PARIS 204 - HOW A WOMAN'S WIT AVERTED A GREAT DISASTER - (Permission of Wide World Magazine) - - HOW IT FEELS TO A CLERGYMAN TO BE TORPEDOED ON - A MAN-OF-WAR 212 - Told by the Rev. G. H. Collier - - STORY OF LEON BARBESSE, SLACKER, SOLDIER, HERO 213 - Told by Fred B. Pitney - (Permission of New York Tribune) - - THE DESERTER--A BELGIAN INCIDENT 230 - Told by Edward Eyre Hunt - (Permission of Red Cross Magazine) - - GRIM HUMOR OF THE TRENCHES 240 - AS SEEN BY PATRICK CORCORAN, OF THE ROYAL ENGINEERS - (Permission of New York World) - - PRIVATE McTOSHER DISCOVERS LONDON 247 - Told by C. Malcolm Hincks - (Permission of Wide World Magazine) - - RUSSIAN COUNTESS IN THE ARABIAN DESERT 259 - ADVENTURES OF COUNTESS MOLITOR AS TOLD IN HER - DIARY - - GERMAN STUDENTS TELL WHAT SHERMAN MEANT 270 - THREE CONFESSIONS FROM GERMAN SOLDIERS - Told by Walter Harich, Wilhelm Spengler and Willie Treller - (Permission of New York Tribune) - - BAITING THE BOCHE--THE WIT OF THE BELGIANS 277 - Told by W. F. Martindale - (Permission of Wide World Magazine) - - HOW SERGEANT O'LEARY WON HIS VICTORIA CROSS 288 - STORY OF THE FIRST BATTALION OF THE IRISH GUARDS - (Permission of New York American) - - STORY OF A RUSSIAN IN AN AUSTRIAN PRISON 295 - AN OFFICER'S REMARKABLE EXPERIENCE - (Permission of Current History) - - TWO WEEKS ON A SUBMARINE 302 - Told by Carl List - (Permission of Current History) - - A GERMAN BATTALION THAT PERISHED IN THE SNOW 305 - Told by a Russian Officer - - THE FATAL WOOD--"NOT ONE SHALL BE SAVED" 309 - A STORY OF VERDUN - Told by Bernard St. Lawrence - (Permission of Wide World Magazine) - - HEROISM AND PATHOS OF THE FRONT 316 - Told by Lauchlan MacLean Watt - - AN AVIATOR'S STORY OF BOMBARDING THE ENEMY 321 - Told by a French Aviator - (Permission of Illustration, Paris) - - A DAY IN A GERMAN WAR PRISON 325 - Told by Wilhelm Hegeler - - MURDER TRIAL OF CAPTAIN HERAIL OF FRENCH HUSSARS 330 - STRANGEST EPISODE OF THE WAR - Told by an Eye-Witness - (Permission of New York American) - - HOW THEY KILLED "THE MAN WHO COULD NOT DIE" 338 - Told by a Soldier Under General Cantore - (Permission of New York World) - - HOW MLLE. DUCLOS WON THE LEGION OF HONOR 344 - STORY OF A WOMAN WHO DROVE HER AUTO AT FULL - SPEED INTO A GERMAN FORCE - Told by an Eye-Witness - (Permission of New York American) - - THE RUSSIAN "JOAN OF ARC'S" OWN STORY 351 - Told by Mme. Alexandra Kokotseva - - AN ITALIAN SOLDIER'S LAST MESSAGE TO HIS MOTHER 355 - Translated by Father Pasquale Maltese - -[Illustration: IN A PRISONERS' CAMP -Germans in a French Camp] - -[Illustration: THE U-9 SPEEDING ON THE SURFACE -_From a Drawing by a German Artist Published in a German Magazine_] - -[Illustration: A NARROW SHAVE! -_A Remarkable Photograph of a Torpedo That Missed Its Mark by a Scant -Ten Feet. The Men on This Vessel, From the Stern of Which the Picture -Was Made, Literally Looked Death in the Face and Watched Him Pass By._] - -[Illustration: THE LAST ACT OF A SUDDEN SEA TRAGEDY -_Rescuing Sailors From H. M. S. Audacious_] - - - - -"BEHIND THE GERMAN VEIL" WITH VON HINDENBURG - -_Record of a Remarkable War Pilgrimage_ - -_Told by Count Van Maurik De Beaufort_ - - This is the remarkable story of a titled Hollander, who was living - in America at the outbreak of the War. "Europe called me," he - says. "Blood will tell. I soon found myself getting restless. My - sympathies with the Allies ... urged that I had no right to lag - behind in making sacrifices. Before starting for the War, I applied - for my first American citizenship papers. I hope to obtain my - final papers shortly, after which I shall place my services at the - disposal of the American Government." This Hollander was educated - in Germany and recalls how in his youth he was forced to stand up - in front of the class and recite five verses, each ending with: "I - am a Prussian and a Prussian I will be." He later became a student - at Bonn. Count De Beaufort has written a book of sensational - revelations in which the German veil is lifted. With a magic - passport, nothing less than a letter to Von Hindenburg from his - nephew, he gained access to German headquarters and to the Eastern - front in Poland and East Prussia. We here record what he thinks - of Von Hindenburg from his book: "Behind the German Veil," by - permission of his publishers, _Dodd, Mead and Company_: Copyright - 1917. - -[1] I--GOING TO SEE VON HINDENBURG - -Yes, if the truth be told, I must say that I felt just a wee bit -shaky about the knees. I wondered what view they would take of my -perseverance, worthy, I am sure, of a kind reception. - -I would wager that in the whole of Germany there could not be found one -... whose hair would not have stood on end at the mere suggestion of -travelling to Hindenburg's headquarters without a pass. Why, he would -sooner think of calling at the Palace "_Unter den Linden_," and of -asking to interview the Kaiser. - -I think I must describe to you the way I appeared at headquarters. At -Allenstein I had bought, the day before, a huge portrait of Hindenburg; -it must have been nearly thirty inches long. - -Under one arm I carried the photograph, in my hand my letter of -introduction, and in my other hand a huge umbrella, which was a local -acquisition. On my face I wore that beatific, enthusiastic and very -naive expression of "the innocent abroad." I had blossomed out into -that modern pest--the autographic maniac. - -Army corps, headquarters, strategy and tactics were words that meant -nothing to me. How could they, stupid, unmilitary foreigner that I was! -It was a pure case of "Fools will enter where angels fear to tread." -You may be sure that my subsequent conversation with the Staff captain -confirmed the idea that I was innocent of all military knowledge, and -that I probably--so he thought--did not know the difference between an -army corps and a section of snipers. - -Why had I come to Loetzen? Why, of course, to shake hands with the -famous General, the new Napoleon; to have a little chat with him, -and--last, but not least--to obtain his most priceless signature to -my most priceless photograph. What? Not as easy as all that, but why? -Could there be any harm in granting me those favors? Could it by the -furthest stretch of imagination be considered as giving information to -the enemy? What good was my letter of introduction from the General's -dear nephew? Of course, I would not ask the General where he had his -guns hidden, and when he intended to take Petrograd, Moscow or Kieff. -Oh, no; I knew enough about military matters not to ask such leading -questions. - -But joking apart. On showing my famous letter I had no difficulty -whatsoever in entering the buildings of the General Staff. The first -man I met was Hauptmann Frantz. He didn't seem a bad sort at all, and -appeared rather to enjoy the joke and my "innocence," at imagining that -I could walk up to Hindenburg's Eastern headquarters and say "Hello!" -to the General. - -He thought it was most "original," and certainly exceedingly American. -Still, it got him into the right mood. "Make people smile," might be a -good motto for itinerant journalists in the war zones. Few people, not -excepting Germans, are so mean as to bite you with a smile on their -faces. Make them laugh, and half the battle is won. - -Frantz read my letter and was duly impressed. He never asked me whether -I had any passes. He advised me to go to the General's house, shook -hands, and wished me luck. - -Phew! I was glad that my first contact with the General Staff had come -off so smoothly. I had been fully prepared for stormy weather, if not -for a hurricane. Cockily, I went off to Hindenburg's residence, a very -modest suburban village not far from the station, and belonging to a -country lawyer. There was a bit of garden in front, and at the back; -the house was new, and the bricks still bright red. Across the road on -two poles a wide banner was stretched, with "Willkommen" painted on it. - -Two old Mecklenburger Landstrum men guarded the little wooden gate. I -told them that I came from Great Headquarters, and once more produced -the letter. They saluted, opened the gate, and one of them ran ahead to -ring the door bell. - - -II--HE ENTERS THE STRANGE HOUSE - -I walked up the little gravel path with here and there a patch of green -dilapidated grass on either side. I remember the window curtains were -of yellow plush. In the window seat stood a tall vase with artificial -flowers flanked by a birdcage with two canaries. It was all very -suburban, and did not look at all like the residence of such a famous -man. An orderly, with his left arm thrust into a top-boot, opened -the door. In a tone of voice that left no chance for the familiar -War-Office question: "Have you an appointment, sir?" I inquired whether -the Field-Marshal was at home, at the same time giving him my letter. -The orderly peeled off his top-boot, unfastened his overalls, and -slipped on his coat. - -Then he carefully took my letter, holding it gingerly between thumb -and third finger, so as not to leave any marks on it, and ushered me -into the "Wohnzimmer," a sort of living- and dining-room combined. It -was the usual German affair. A couch, a table, a huge porcelain stove, -were the prominent pieces of furniture. All three were ranged against -the long wall. The straight-backed chairs were covered with red plush. -On the walls hung several monstrosities, near-etchings representing -the effigies of the Kaiser, the Kaiserin, and, of course, of "Our" -Hindenburg. There was the usual overabundance of artificial flowers and -ferns so dear to the heart of every German Hausfrau. - -The two canaries lived in the most elaborate homemade cage. (I -understand they were the property of the "Hausfrau," not of -Hindenburg!) On the table, covered with a check tablecloth, stood a -bowl containing three goldfish. The floor was covered with a bright -carpet, and in front of one of the doors lay a mat with "Salve" on -it. Over the couch hung a photographic enlargement of a middle-aged -soldier leaning nonchalantly against a door on which was chalked -"Kriegsjahr, 1914." Over the frame hung a wreath with a black and white -ribbon, inscribed "In Memoriam," telling its eloquent story. - -Behind me was a map of the Eastern front, and pinned alongside of it a -caricature of a British Tommy sitting astride of a pyramid and pulling -a number of strings fastened to the legs, arms and head of the Sultan, -who was apparently dancing a jig. - -That room impressed itself upon my memory for all time. I often dream -of it. - - * * * * * - -I had waited only a few minutes when a young officer came in, who, -bowing obsequiously, wished me a very formal good-morning. I took my -cue from the way he bowed. He explained that the General was out in -the car but was expected back before noon. Would I condescend to wait? -Needless to say, I did "condescend." - -I forgot to mention one point in my meditations. When I took the chance -of continuing East instead of returning to Berlin, I thought there -might just be a possibility that the Adjutant or Staff Officer who -had spoken with von Schlieffen had entirely taken it upon himself to -say "No," and that it was not unlikely that the General knew nothing -whatever about my letter or my contemplated visit. If my surmise was -correct, I would stand a sporting chance, because it was hardly to be -expected that out of the thirty-odd officers comprising the Staff, I -should run bang into the very man who had telephoned. - -I soon knew that the officer in immediate attendance on Hindenburg -was not aware of my _contretempts_ at Allenstein on the previous day. -Neither did he inquire after my passes. You see, they take these things -for granted. Would I prefer to wait here or come in his office, where -the stove was lit? Of course, I thought that would be more pleasant. I -thought, and am glad to say was not mistaken, that probably the young -officer felt he needed some mental relaxation. This will sound strange, -but I have found during my travels through Germany, that in spite of -the many warnings not to talk shop, every soldier, from the humblest -private to the highest General--I am sure not excepting the War Lord -himself--dearly loves to expatiate on matters military, his ambitions -and hopes. This one was no exception. He chatted away very merrily, -and more than once I recognized points and arguments which I had read -weeks ago in interviews granted by General Hindenburg to Austrian -journalists. He quite imagined himself an embryo Field-Marshal. - -He showed me several excellent maps, which gave every railroad line -on both sides of the Polish frontier. They certainly emphasized the -enormous difference and the many advantages of German _versus_ Russian -railroad communications. Many of his predictions have since come -true, but most of them have not. He hinted very mysteriously, but -quite unmistakably, at a prospective Russian _debacle_, and predicted -a separate peace with Russia before the end of 1915! "And then," he -added, "we will shake up the old women at the Western front a bit and -show them the 'Hindenburg method.'" - - * * * * * - -The room we were in was fitted up as an emergency staff office. There -were several large tables, maps galore, a safe, a number of books -that looked like ledgers and journals, six telephones and a telegraph -instrument. Two non-commissioned officers were writing in a corner. In -case anything important happens at night, such as an urgent despatch -that demands immediate attention, everything was at hand to enable the -General to issue new orders. A staff-officer and a clerk are always on -duty. - -I learned later on, though, that a position in that auxiliary -staff-office at Hindenburg's residence is more or less of a sinecure. -All despatches go first to Ludendorff, Hindenburg's Chief-of-Staff, -who, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, issues orders without -consulting his Chief. - - -III--HE STANDS BEFORE VON HINDENBURG - -In the midst of a long explanation of the Russian plight, the voluble -subaltern suddenly stopped short. I heard a car halt in front of the -house, and a minute or two later the door of the office opened and -Germany's giant idol entered. I rose and bowed. The officer and the two -sergeants clicked their heels audibly, and replied to the stentorian -"_Morgen, meine Herren_," with a brisk "_Morgen, Excellence_." - -Hindenburg looked questions at me, but I thought I would let my young -friend do the talking and act as master of ceremonies. He handed -Hindenburg my letter, and introduced me as "Herr 'von' Beaufort, who -has just arrived from Rome." (I had left Rome nearly three months -before!) The General read his nephew's letter and then shook hands with -me, assuring me of the pleasure it gave him to meet me. Of course, I -was glad that he was glad, and expressed reciprocity of sentiments. -I looked at him--well, for lack of a better word, I will say, with -affection; you know the kind of childlike, simple admiration which -expresses so much. I tried to look at him as a certain little girl -would have done, who wrote: "You are like my governess: she, too, knows -everything." I felt sure that that attitude was a better one than -to pretend that I was overawed. That sort of homage he must receive -every day. Besides, as soon as I realized that he knew nothing of the -telephone message from and to Allenstein, my old self-assurance had -returned. - - * * * * * - -Now for my impressions of Germany's--and, as some people try to make us -believe, the world's--greatest military genius. They might be summed -up in two words: "Strength and cruelty." Hindenburg stands over six -feet high. His whole personality radiates strength, brute, animal -strength. He was, when I met him, sixty-nine years of age, but looked -very much younger. His hair and moustache were still pepper and salt -color. His face and forehead are deeply furrowed, which adds to his -forbidding appearance. His nose and chin are prominent, but the most -striking feature of the man's whole appearance are his eyes. They are -steel-blue and very small, much too small for his head, which, in turn, -is much too small compared with his large body. But what the eyes -lacked in size they fully made up for in intensity and penetrating -powers. Until I met Hindenburg I always thought that the eyes of the -Mexican rebel Villa were the worst and most cruel I had ever seen. -They are mild compared with those of Hindenburg. _Never in all my life -have I seen such hard, cruel, nay, such utterly brutal eyes as those -of Hindenburg._ The moment I looked at him I believed every story of -refined (and unrefined) cruelty I had ever heard about him. - -He has the disagreeable habit of looking at you as if he did not -believe a word you said. Frequently in conversation he closes his -eyes, but even then it seemed as if their steel-like sharpness pierced -his eyelids. Instead of deep circles, such as, for instance, I have -noticed on the Kaiser, he has big fat cushions of flesh under his -eyes, which accentuate their smallness. When he closes his eyes, these -cushions almost touch his bushy eyebrows and give his face a somewhat -prehistoric appearance. His hair, about an inch long I should judge, -was brushed straight up--what the French call _en brosse_. The general -contour of his head seemed that of a square, rounded off at the corners. - - * * * * * - -Speaking about the stories of cruelty, one or two of them may bear -re-telling. - -When during the heavy fighting, early in 1915, General Rennenkampf -was forced to evacuate Insterburg somewhat hastily, he was unable -to find transport for about fifty thousand loaves of bread. Not -feeling inclined to make a present of them to the Germans, he ordered -paraffin to be poured over them. When the Germans found that bread -and discovered its condition, Hindenburg is reported to have been -frantic with rage. The next day, after he had calmed down, he said -to one of his aides: "Well, it seems to be a matter of taste. If the -Russians like their bread that way, very well. _Give it to the Russian -prisoners._" - -You may feel certain that his orders were scrupulously carried out. - -Another incident which they are very fond of relating in Germany is -more amusing, though it also plays on their idol's cruelty. - -It is a fact that both officers and men are deadly afraid of him. It is -said that the great General has a special predilection for bringing the -tip of his riding boots into contact with certain parts of the human -anatomy. A private would far rather face day and night the Russian guns -than be orderly to Hindenburg. - -But one day a man came up and offered himself for the job. - -"And what are you in private life?" the General snorted at him. - -"At your orders, sir, I am a wild animal trainer." - - -IV--"WHAT VON HINDENBURG TOLD ME" - -Hindenburg and I talked for about twenty minutes on various -subjects--Holland, Italy, America, and, of course, the campaign. - -When he tried to point out to me how all-important it was for Holland -that Germany should crush England's "world-domination," I mentioned -the Dutch Colonies. That really set him going. "Colonies," he shouted. -"Pah! I am sick of all this talk about colonies. It would be better -for people, and I am not referring to our enemies alone, to pay more -attention to events in Europe. I say 'to the devil' (_zum Teufel_) with -the colonies. Let us first safeguard our own country; the colonies will -follow. It is here," and he went up to a large map of Poland hanging on -the wall, and laid a hand almost as large as a medium-sized breakfast -tray over the center of it--"It is here," he continued, "that European -and colonial affairs will be settled and nowhere else. As far as the -colonies are concerned, it will be a matter of a foot for a mile, as -long as we hold large slices of enemy territory." - -He spoke with great respect of the Russian soldier, but maintained that -they lacked proper leaders. "It takes more than ten years to reform -the morale of an officers' corps. From what I have learned, the morale -of the Russian officer is to this day much the same as it was in the -Russo-Japanese war. We will show you one of their ambulance trains -captured near Kirbaty. It is the last word in luxury. By all means -give your wounded all the comfort, all the attention you can; but I -do not think that car-loads of champagne, oysters, caviare and the -finest French liqueurs are necessary adjuncts to an ambulance train. -The Russian soldier is splendid, but his discipline is not of the same -quality as that of our men. In our armies discipline is the result of -spiritual and moral training; in the Russian armies discipline stands -for dumb obedience. The Russian soldier remains at his post because he -has been ordered to stay there, and he stands as if nailed to the spot. -What Napoleon I. said still applies to-day: 'It is not sufficient to -kill a Russian, you have to throw him over as well.' - -"It is absurd," the General continued, "for the enemy Press to compare -this campaign with that of Napoleon in 1812." Again he got up, and -pointing to another map, he said: "This is what will win the war for -us." The map showed the close railroad net of Eastern Germany and the -paucity of permanent roads in Russia. Hindenburg is almost a crank on -the subject of railroads in connection with strategy. In the early days -of the war he shuffled his army corps about from one corner of Poland -to the other. It is said that he transferred four army corps (160,000 -men--about 600 trains) in two days from Kalish, in Western Poland, to -Tannenberg, a distance of nearly two hundred miles. On some tracks the -trains followed each other at intervals of six minutes. - -"Our enemies reckon without two great factors unknown in Napoleon's -time: railroads and German organization. Next to artillery this war -means railroads, railroads, and then still more railroads. The Russians -built forts; we built railroads. They would have spent their millions -better if they had emulated our policy instead of spending millions -on forts. For the present fortresses are of no value against modern -siege guns--at least, not until another military genius such as Vauban, -Brialmont, Montalembert, Coehoorn, springs up, who will be able to -invent proper defensive measures against heavy howitzers. - -"Another delusion under which our enemies are laboring is that of -Russia's colossal supply of men. He who fights with Russia must always -expect superiority in numbers; but in this age of science, strategy -and organization, numbers are only decisive, 'all else being equal.' -The Russian forces opposed to us on this front have always been far -superior in numbers to ours, but we are not afraid of that. A crowd of -men fully armed and equipped does not make an army in these days." - -This brought him to the subject of the British forces, more especially -to Kitchener's army. "It is a great mistake to underestimate your -enemy," said Hindenburg, referring to the continual slights and -attacks appearing in the German Press. "I by no means underrate the -thoroughness, the fighting qualities of the British soldier. England -is a fighting nation, and has won her spurs on many battlefields. But -to-day they are up against a different problem. Even supposing that -Kitchener should be able to raise his army of several millions, where -is he going to get his officers and his non-commissioned officers from? -How is he going to train them, so to speak, overnight, when it has -taken us several generations of uninterrupted instruction, study and -work to create an efficient staff? Let me emphasize, and with all the -force I can: 'Efficiency and training are everything.' There lies their -difficulty. I have many officers here with me who have fought opposite -the English, and all are united in their opinion that they are brave -and worthy opponents; but one criticism was also unanimously made: -'Their officers often lead their men needlessly to death, either from -sheer foolhardiness, but more often through inefficiency.'" - - -V--"WHEN I LEFT VON HINDENBURG" - -Although he did not express this opinion to me personally, I have it on -excellent authority that Hindenburg believes this war will last close -on four years at least. And the result--stalemate. He does not believe -that the Allies will be able to push the Germans out of Belgium, France -or Poland. - -Personally, I found it impossible to get him to make any definite -statement on the probable outcome and duration of the war. "Until we -have gained an honorable peace," was his cryptic reply. He refused to -state what, in his opinion, constituted an honorable peace. If I am to -believe several of his officers--and I discussed the subject almost -every day--then Hindenburg must by now be a very disappointed man. I -was told that he calculated as a practical certainty on a separate -peace with Russia soon after the fall of Warsaw. (I should like to -point out here that this "separate peace with Russia" idea was one of -the most popular and most universal topics of conversation in Germany -last year.) - - * * * * * - -When Hindenburg learnt that I had come all the way from Berlin without -a pass from the General Staff, he appeared very much amused; but in a -quasi-serious manner he said: - -"Well, you know that I ought to send you back at once, otherwise -I shall risk getting the sack myself; still, as all ordinary -train-service between here and Posen will be suspended for four days, -the only way for you to get back is by motor-car. It would be a pity to -come all the way from sunny Italy to this Siberian cold, and not see -something of the men and of the hardships of a Russian winter campaign. -Travelling by motor-car, you will have ample opportunity to see -something of the country, and, if you feel so inclined, of the fighting -as well. And then go home and tell them abroad about the insurmountable -obstacles, the enormous difficulties the German has to overcome." - -Hindenburg does not like the Berlin General Staff officers, and that is -why he was so amused at my having got the better of them. He describes -them as "drawing-room" officers, who remain safely in Berlin. With -their spick and span uniforms they look askance at their mud-stained -colleagues at the front. His officers, who know Hindenburg's feelings -towards these gentlemen, play many a practical joke on their Berlin -_confreres_. The latter have frequently returned from a visit to some -communication trenches only to find that their car has mysteriously -retreated some two or three miles ... over Polish roads. - -Any one who can tell of such an experience befalling a "Salon Offizier" -is sure to raise a good laugh from Hindenburg. - -At the conclusion of our conversation he instructed the young A.D.C. to -take me over to Headquarters and present me to Captain Caemmerer. "Tell -him," and I inscribed the words that followed deeply on my mind, "to be -kind to Herr Beaufort." - - * * * * * - -My introduction to Caemmerer proved to be one of those curious vagaries -of fate. He was the very man who less than twenty-four hours ago -had spoken with General von Schlieffen, and who had assured him how -impossible it was for me to continue, and that I was to be sent back to -Berlin at once! - -"Beaufort, Beaufort," he sniffed once or twice before he could place -me. Then suddenly he remembered. "Ah, yes, him! You are the man General -von Schlieffen telephoned about yesterday? But did he not instruct you -to return to Berlin?" - -However, I remembered Hindenburg's injunction: "Tell Caemmerer to be -kind to him," so what did I care for a mere captain? - -Consequently, as they say in the moving pictures, I "registered" my -most angelic smile, and sweetly said: - -"Ah, yes, Captain, quite so, quite so. But, you see, I felt _certain_ -that there was some misunderstanding at this end of the wire. Probably -it was not clearly explained to you that I had this very important -letter of introduction to General von Hindenburg from my friend his -nephew. As you see," and I waved my hand at the A.D.C., my master of -ceremonies, "I was quite right in my surmise." - - * * * * * - -However that may be, you may be certain that I saw to it that when -we mapped out my return journey, Caemmerer was being "kind" to me. -Consequently, I spent two most interesting weeks in the German Eastern -war-zones, much to the surprise and disgust of the "Drawing-room Staff" -in Berlin. - -(Count De Beaufort's revelations form one of the most valuable records -of the war. He tells about "Spies and Spying;" "German Women;" "When I -Prayed with the Kaiser;" "An Incognito Visit to the Fleet and German -Naval Harbors;" "Interviews with the Leading Naval, Military and Civil -Authorities in Germany"--closing with an interview that upset Berlin, -caused his arrest, and as he describes it, "My Ultimate Escape Across -the Baltic.") - -FOOTNOTE: - -[1] All numerals throughout this volume relate to the stories herein -told--not to chapters in the original sources. - - - - -"KITCHENER'S MOB"--ADVENTURES OF AN AMERICAN WITH THE BRITISH ARMY - -_Uncensored Account of a Young Volunteer_ - -_Told by James Norman Hall, of the First Expeditionary Force_ - - This is a glimpse of life in a battalion of one of Lord Kitchener's - first armies. It gives an intimate view of the men who are so - gallantly laying down their lives for England. Kitchener's Mob - has become the greatest volunteer army in the history of the - world--for more than three million of disciplined fighting men are - united under one flag in this magnificent military organization. - Their fighting has become an epic of heroism in France, Belgium, - Africa and the Balkans. Some of them have seen service in India, - Egypt and South Africa; they might have stepped out of any of the - "Barrack-Room Ballads." The name which they bear was fastened - upon them by themselves--thereby hangs a tale. Stories of their - adventures have been gathered into a volume under title of - "Kitchener's Mob"--and published by _Houghton, Mifflin Company_: - Copyright, 1916, by _Atlantic Monthly Company_; Copyright, 1916, by - James Norman Hall. - -[2] I--STORY OF A YANKEE IN THE TRENCHES - -With Kitchener's mob we wandered through the trenches listening to the -learned discourse of the genial professors of the Parapet-etic School, -storing up much useful information for future reference. I made a -serious blunder when I asked one of them a question about Ypres, for I -pronounced the name French fashion, which put me under suspicion as a -"swanker." - -"Don't try to come it, son," he said. "S'y 'Wipers.' That's wot we -calls it." - -Henceforth it was "Wipers" for me, although I learned that "Eeps" and -"Yipps" are sanctioned by some trench authorities. I made no further -mistakes of this nature, and by keeping silent about the names of -the towns and villages along our front, I soon learned the accepted -pronunciation of all of them. Armentieres is called "Armenteers"; -Balleul, "Ballyall"; Hazebrouck, "Hazy-Brook"; and what more natural -than "Plug-Street," Atkinsese for Ploegsteert? - -As was the case wherever I went, my accent betrayed my American birth; -and again, as an American Expeditionary Force of one, I was shown many -favors. Private Shorty Holloway, upon learning that I was a "Yank," -offered to tell me "every bloomin' thing about the trenches that a -bloke needs to know." I was only too glad to place myself under his -instruction. - -"Right you are!" said Shorty; "now, sit down 'ere w'ile I'm going over -me shirt, an' arsk me anything yer a mind to." I began immediately by -asking him what he meant by "going over" his shirt. - -"Blimy! You are new to this game, mate! You mean to s'y you ain't got -any graybacks?" - -I confessed shamefacedly that I had not. He stripped to the waist, -turned his shirt wrong side out, and laid it upon his knee. - -"'Ave a look," he said proudly. - -The less said about my discoveries the better for the fastidiously -minded. Suffice it to say that I made my first acquaintance with -members of a British Expeditionary Force which is not mentioned in -official _communiques_. - -"Trench pets," said Shorty. Then he told me that they were not all -graybacks. There is a great variety of species, but they all belong to -the same parasitical family, and wage a non-discriminating warfare upon -the soldiery on both sides of No-man's-Land. Germans, British, French, -Belgians alike were their victims. - -"You'll soon 'ave plenty," he said reassuringly; "I give you about a -week to get covered with 'em. Now, wot you want to do is this: always -'ave an extra shirt in yer pack. Don't be a bloomin' ass an' sell -it fer a packet o' fags like I did! An' the next time you writes to -England, get some one to send you out some Keatings"--he displayed a -box of grayish-colored powder. "It won't kill 'em, mind you! They ain't -nothin' but fire that'll kill 'em. But Keatings tykes all the ginger -out o' 'em. They ain't near so lively arter you strafe 'em with this -'ere powder." - -I remembered Shorty's advice later when I became a reluctant host to a -prolific colony of graybacks. For nearly six months I was never without -a box of Keatings, and I was never without the need for it. - - -II--IN THE BARBED-WIRE "MAN-TRAPS" - -Barbed wire had a new and terrible significance for me from the first -day which we spent in the trenches. I could more readily understand -why there had been so long a deadlock on the western front. The -entanglements in front of the first line of trenches were from fifteen -to twenty yards wide, the wires being twisted from post to post in such -a hopeless jumble that no man could possibly get through them under -fire. The posts were set firmly in the ground, but there were movable -segments, every fifty or sixty yards, which could be put to one side in -case an attack was to be launched against the German lines. - -At certain positions there were what appeared to be openings through -the wire, but these were nothing less than man-traps which have been -found serviceable in case of an enemy attack. In an assault men follow -the line of least resistance when they reach the barbed wire. These -apparent openings are V-shaped with the open end toward the enemy. The -attacking troops think they see a clear passage-way. They rush into the -trap and when it is filled with struggling men machine guns are turned -upon them, and, as Shorty said, "You got 'em cold." - -That, at least, was the presumption. Practically, man-traps were not -always a success. The intensive bombardments which precede infantry -attacks play havoc with entanglements, but there is always a chance of -the destruction being incomplete, as upon one occasion farther north, -where, Shorty told me, a man-trap caught a whole platoon of Germans -"dead to rights." - -"But this is wot gives you the pip," he said. "'Ere we got three -lines of trenches, all of 'em wired up so that a rat couldn't get -through without scratchin' hisself to death. Fritzie's got better wire -than wot we 'ave, an' more of it. An' 'e's got more machine guns, -more artill'ry, more shells. They ain't any little old man-killer -ever invented wot they 'aven't got more of than we 'ave. An' at 'ome -they're a-s'yin', 'W'y don't they get on with it? W'y don't they smash -through?' Let some of 'em come out 'ere an' 'ave a try! That's all I -got to s'y." - -I didn't tell Shorty that I had been, not exactly an armchair critic, -but at least a barrack-room critic in England. I had wondered why -British and French troops had failed to smash through. A few weeks -in the trenches gave me a new viewpoint. I could only wonder at the -magnificent fighting qualities of soldiers who had held their own so -effectively against armies equipped and armed and munitioned as the -Germans were. - -After he had finished drugging his trench pets, Shorty and I made a -tour of the trenches. I was much surprised at seeing how clean and -comfortable they can be kept in pleasant summer weather. Men were -busily at work sweeping up the walks, collecting the rubbish, which -was put into sandbags hung on pegs at intervals along the fire trench. -At night the refuse was taken back of the trenches and buried. Most of -this work devolved upon the pioneers whose business it was to keep the -trenches sanitary. - -The fire trench was built in much the same way as those which we had -made during our training in England. In pattern it was something like -a tesselated border. For the space of five yards it ran straight, then -it turned at right angles around a traverse of solid earth six feet -square, then straight again for another five yards, then around another -traverse, and so throughout the length of the line. Each five-yard -segment, which is called a "bay," offered firing room for five men. The -traverses, of course, were for the purpose of preventing enfilade fire. -They also limited the execution which might be done by one shell. Even -so they were not an unmixed blessing, for they were always in the way -when you wanted to get anywhere in a hurry. - -"An' you are in a 'urry w'en you sees a Minnie [_Minnenwerfer_] comin' -your w'y. But you gets trench legs arter a w'ile. It'll be a funny -sight to see blokes walkin' along the street in Lunnon w'en the war's -over. They'll be so used to dogin' in an' out o' traverses they won't -be able to go in a straight line." - - -III--STORIES OF SHORTY HOLLOWAY--"PROFESSOR OF TRENCHES" - -As we walked through the firing-line trenches, I could quite understand -the possibility of one's acquiring trench legs. Five paces forward, -two to the right, two to the left, two to the left again, then five to -the right, and so on to Switzerland. Shorty was of the opinion that -one could enter the trenches on the Channel coast and walk through -to the Alps without once coming out on top of the ground. I am not -in a position either to affirm or to question this statement. My own -experience was confined to that part of the British front which lies -between Messines in Belgium and Loos in France. There, certainly, -one could walk for miles, through an intricate maze of continuous -underground passages. - -But the firing-line trench was neither a traffic route nor a promenade. -The great bulk of inter-trench business passed through the travelling -trench, about fifteen yards in rear of the fire trench and running -parallel to it. The two were connected by many passageways, the chief -difference between them being that the fire trench was the business -district, while the traveling trench was primarily residential. Along -the latter were built most of the dugouts, lavatories, and trench -kitchens. The sleeping quarters for the men were not very elaborate. -Recesses were made in the wall of the trench about two feet above the -floor. They were not more than three feet high, so that one had to -crawl in head first when going to bed. They were partitioned in the -middle, and were supposed to offer accommodations for four men, two -on each side. But, as Shorty said, everything depended on the ration -allowance. Two men who had eaten to repletion could not hope to occupy -the same apartment. One had a choice of going to bed hungry or of -eating heartily and sleeping outside on the firing-bench. - -"'Ere's a funny thing," he said. "W'y do you suppose they makes the -dugouts open at one end?" - -I had no explanation to offer. - -"Crawl inside an' I'll show you." - -I stood my rifle against the side of the trench and crept in. - -"Now, yer supposed to be asleep," said Shorty, and with that he gave -me a whack on the soles of my boots with his entrenching tool handle. -I can still feel the pain of the blow. - -"Stand to! Wyke up 'ere! Stand to!" he shouted, and gave me another -resounding wallop. - -I backed out in all haste. - -"Get the idea? That's 'ow they wykes you up at stand-to, or w'en your -turn comes fer sentry. Not bad, wot?" - -I said that it all depended on whether one was doing the waking or the -sleeping, and that, for my part, when sleeping, I would lie with my -head out. - -"You wouldn't if you belonged to our lot. They'd give it to you on the -napper just as quick as 'it you on the feet. You ain't on to the game, -that's all. Let me show you suthin'." - -He crept inside and drew his knees up to his chest so that his feet -were well out of reach. At his suggestion I tried to use the active -service alarm clock on him, but there was not room enough in which to -wield it. My feet were tingling from the effect of his blows, and I -felt that the reputation for resourcefulness of Kitchener's Mob was at -stake. In a moment of inspiration I seized my rifle, gave him a dig in -the shins with the butt, and shouted, "Stand to, Shorty!" He came out -rubbing his leg ruefully. - -"You got the idea, mate," he said. "That's just wot they does w'en you -tries to double-cross 'em by pullin' yer feet in. I ain't sure w'ere I -likes it best, on the shins or on the feet." - -This explanation of the reason for building three-sided dugouts, -while not, of course, the true one, was none the less interesting. -And certainly, the task of arousing sleeping men for sentry duty was -greatly facilitated with rows of protruding boot soles "simply arskin' -to be 'it," as Shorty put it. - -All of the dugouts for privates and N.C.O.s were of equal size and -built on the same model, the reason being that the walls and floors, -which were made of wood, and the roofs, which were of corrugated -iron, were put together in sections at the headquarters of the Royal -Engineers, who superintended all the work of trench construction. The -material was brought up at night ready to be fitted into excavations. -Furthermore, with thousands of men to house within a very limited -area, space was a most important consideration. There was no room for -indulging individual tastes in dugout architecture. The roofs were -covered with from three to four feet of earth, which made them proof -against shrapnel or shell splinters. In case of a heavy bombardment -with high explosives, the men took shelter in deep and narrow "slip -trenches." These were blind alley-ways leading off from the traveling -trench, with room for from ten to fifteen men in each. At this part of -the line there were none of the very deep shell-proof shelters, from -fifteen to twenty feet below the surface of the ground, of which I had -read. Most of the men seemed to be glad of this. They preferred taking -their chances in an open trench during heavy shell fire. - - -IV--THE "SUICIDE CLUB"--A BOMBING SQUAD - -Realists and Romanticists lived side by side in the traveling trench. -"My Little Gray Home in the West" was the modest legend over one -apartment. The "Ritz Carlton" was next door to "The Rats' Retreat," -with "Vermin Villa" next door but one. "The Suicide Club" was the -suburban residence of some members of the bombing squad. I remarked -that the bombers seemed to take rather a pessimistic view of their -profession, whereupon Shorty told me that if there were any men slated -for the Order of the Wooden Cross, the bombers were those unfortunate -ones. In an assault they were first at the enemy's position. They had -dangerous work to do even on the quietest of days. But theirs was a -post of honor, and no one of them but was proud of his membership in -the Suicide Club. - -The officers' quarters were on a much more generous and elaborate -scale than those of the men. This I gathered from Shorty's description -of them, for I saw only the exteriors as we passed along the trench. -Those for platoon and company commanders were built along the traveling -trench. The colonel, major, and adjutant lived in a luxurious palace, -about fifty yards down a communication trench. Near it was the -officers' mess, a cafe de luxe with glass panels in the door, a cooking -stove, a long wooden table, chairs,--everything, in fact, but hot and -cold running water. - -"You know," said Shorty, "the officers thinks they 'as to rough it, but -they got it soft, I'm tellin' you! Wooden bunks to sleep in, batmen -to bring 'em 'ot water fer shavin' in the mornin', all the fags they -wants,----Blimy, I wonder wot they calls livin' 'igh?" - -I agreed that in so far as living quarters are concerned, they were -roughing it under very pleasant circumstances. However, they were not -always so fortunate, as later experience proved. Here there had been -little serious fighting for months and the trenches were at their best. -Elsewhere the officers' dugouts were often but little better than those -of the men. - -The first-line trenches were connected with two lines of support or -reserve trenches built in precisely the same fashion, and each heavily -wired. The communication trenches which joined them were from seven to -eight feet deep and wide enough to permit the convenient passage of -incoming and outgoing troops, and the transport of the wounded back to -the field dressing stations. From the last reserve line they wound on -backward through the fields until troops might leave them well out of -range of rifle fire. Under Shorty's guidance I saw the field dressing -stations, the dugouts for the reserve ammunition supply and the stores -of bombs and hand grenades, battalion and brigade trench headquarters. -We wandered from one part of the line to another through trenches, all -of which were kept amazingly neat and clean. The walls were stayed with -fine-mesh wire to hold the earth in place. The floors were covered with -board walks carefully laid over the drains, which ran along the center -of the trench and emptied into deep wells, built in recesses in the -walls. I felt very much encouraged when I saw the careful provision for -sanitation and drainage. On a fine June morning it seemed probable that -living in ditches was not to be so unpleasant as I had imagined it. -Shorty listened to my comments with a smile. - -"Don't pat yerself on the back yet a w'ile, mate," he said. "They looks -right enough now, but wite till you've seen 'em arter a 'eavy rain." - -I had this opportunity many times during the summer and autumn. A more -wretched existence than that of soldiering in wet weather could hardly -be imagined. The walls of the trenches caved in in great masses. The -drains filled to overflowing, and the trench walks were covered deep in -mud. After a few hours of rain, dry and comfortable trenches became a -quagmire, and we were kept busy for days afterward repairing the damage. - -As a machine gunner I was particularly interested in the construction -of the machine-gun emplacements. The covered battle positions were -very solidly built. The roofs were supported with immense logs or -steel girders covered over with many layers of sandbags. There were -two carefully concealed loopholes looking out to a flank, but none for -frontal fire, as this dangerous little weapon best enjoys catching -troops in enfilade owing to the rapidity and the narrow cone of its -fire. Its own front is protected by the guns on its right and left. At -each emplacement there was a range chart giving the ranges to all parts -of the enemy's trenches, and to every prominent object both in front of -and behind them, within its field of fire. When not in use the gun was -kept mounted and ready for action in the battle position. - -"But remember this," said Shorty, "you never fires from your battle -position except in case of attack. W'en you goes out at night to 'ave -a little go at Fritzie, you always tykes yer gun sommers else. If you -don't, you'll 'ave Minnie an' Busy Bertha an' all the rest o' the Krupp -childern comin' over to see w'ere you live." - -This was a wise precaution, as we were soon to learn from experience. -Machine guns are objects of special interest to the artillery, and the -locality from which they are fired becomes very unhealthy for some -little time thereafter. - - -V--AT THE "MUD LARKS'" BEAUTY SHOP - -We stopped for a moment at "The Mud Larks' Hair-dressing Parlor," a -very important institution if one might judge by its patronage. It was -housed in a recess in the wall of the traveling trench, and was open -to the sky. There I saw the latest fashion in "oversea" hair cuts. The -victims sat on a ration box while the barber mowed great swaths through -tangled thatch with a pair of close-cutting clippers. But instead of -making a complete job of it, a thick fringe of hair which resembled a -misplaced scalping tuft was left for decorative purposes, just above -the forehead. The effect was so grotesque that I had to invent an -excuse for laughing. It was a lame one, I fear, for Shorty looked at me -warningly. When we had gone on a little way he said:-- - -"Ain't it a proper beauty parlor? But you got to be careful about -larfin'. Some o' the blokes thinks that 'edge-row is a regular -ornament." - -I had supposed that a daily shave was out of the question on the -firing-line; but the British Tommy is nothing if not resourceful. -Although water is scarce and fuel even more so, the self-respecting -soldier easily surmounts difficulties, and the Gloucesters were all -nice in matters pertaining to the toilet. Instead of draining their -canteens of tea, they saved a few drops for shaving purposes. - -"It's a bit sticky," said Shorty, "but it's 'ot, an' not 'arf bad w'en -you gets used to it. Now, another thing you don't want to ferget is -this: W'en yer movin' up fer yer week in the first line, always bring a -bundle o' firewood with you. They ain't so much as a match-stick left -in the trenches. Then you wants to be savin' of it. Don't go an use it -all the first d'y or you'll 'ave to do without yer tea the rest o' the -week." - -I remembered his emphasis upon this point afterward when I saw men -risking their lives in order to procure firewood. Without his tea Tommy -was a wretched being. I do not remember a day, no matter how serious -the fighting, when he did not find both the time and the means for -making it. - - -VI--FLIES--RATS--AND DOMESTIC SCIENCE - -Shorty was a Ph.D. in every subject in the curriculum, including -domestic science. In preparing breakfast he gave me a practical -demonstration of the art of conserving a limited resource of fuel, -bringing our two canteens to a boil with a very meager handful of -sticks; and while doing so he delivered an oral thesis on the best -methods of food preparation. For example, there was the item of corned -beef--familiarly called "bully." It was the _piece de resistance_ at -every meal with the possible exception of breakfast, when there was -usually a strip of bacon. Now, one's appetite for "bully" becomes jaded -in the course of a few weeks or months. To use the German expression -one doesn't eat it _gern_. But it is not a question of liking it. One -must eat it or go hungry. Therefore, said Shorty, save carefully all -of your bacon grease, and instead of eating your "bully" cold out of -the tin, mix it with bread crumbs and grated cheese and fry it in -the grease. He prepared some in this way, and I thought it a most -delectable dish. Another way of stimulating the palate was to boil the -beef in a solution of bacon grease and water, and then, while eating -it, "kid yerself that it's Irish stew." This second method of taking -away the curse did not appeal to me very strongly, and Shorty admitted -that he practiced such self-deception with very indifferent success; -for after all "bully" was "bully" in whatever form you ate it. - -In addition to this staple, the daily rations consisted of bacon, -bread, cheese, jam, army biscuits, tea, and sugar. Sometimes they -received a tinned meat and vegetable ration, already cooked, and at -welcome intervals fresh meat and potatoes were substituted for corned -beef. Each man had a very generous allowance of food, a great deal -more, I thought, than he could possibly eat. Shorty explained this by -saying that allowance was made for the amount which would be consumed -by the rats and the blue-bottle flies. - -There were, in fact, millions of flies. They settled in great swarms -along the walls of the trenches, which were filled to the brim with -warm light as soon as the sun had climbed a little way up the sky. -Empty tin-lined ammunition boxes were used as cupboards for food. But -of what avail were cupboards to a jam-loving and jam-fed British army -living in open ditches in the summer time? Flytraps made of empty jam -tins were set along the top of the parapet. As soon as one was filled, -another was set in its place. But it was an unequal war against an -expeditionary force of countless numbers. - -"They ain't nothin' you can do," said Shorty. "They steal the jam right -off yer bread." - -As for the rats, speaking in the light of later experience, I can say -that an army corps of Pied Pipers would not have sufficed to entice -away the hordes of them that infested the trenches, living like house -pets on our rations. They were great lazy animals, almost as large -as cats, and so gorged with food that they could hardly move. They -ran over us in the dugouts at night, and filched cheese and crackers -right through the heavy waterproofed coverings of our haversacks. They -squealed and fought among themselves at all hours. I think it possible -that they were carrion eaters, but never, to my knowledge, did they -attack living men. While they were unpleasant bedfellows, we became so -accustomed to them that we were not greatly concerned about our very -intimate associations. - -Our course of instruction at the Parapet-etic School was brought to a -close late in the evening when we shouldered our packs, bade good-bye -to our friends the Gloucesters, and marched back in the moonlight to -our billets. I had gained an entirely new conception of trench life, of -the difficulties involved in trench building, and the immense amount of -material and labor needed for the work. - -Americans who are interested in learning of these things at first hand -will do well to make the grand tour of the trenches when the war is -finished. Perhaps the thrifty continentals will seek to commercialize -such advantage as misfortune as brought them, in providing favorable -opportunities. Perhaps the Touring Club of France will lay out a new -route, following the windings of the firing line from the Channel coast -across the level fields of Flanders, over the Vosges Mountains to -the borders of Switzerland. Pedestrians may wish to make the journey -on foot, cooking their supper over Tommy's rusty biscuit-tin stoves, -sleeping at night in the dugouts where he lay shivering with cold -during the winter nights of 1914 and 1915. If there are enthusiasts -who will be satisfied with only the most intimate personal view of the -trenches, if there are those who would try to understand the hardships -and discomforts of trench life by living it during a summer vacation, -I would suggest that they remember Private Shorty Holloway's parting -injunction to me:-- - -"Now, don't ferget, Jamie!" he said as we shook hands, "always 'ave a -box o' Keatings 'andy, an' 'ang on to yer extra shirt!" - - * * * * * - -(Private Hall, of Kitchener's Mob, describes the scenes when the army -was being organized for the first British expeditionary force. He -tells about "The Rookies"; "The Mob in Training"; "Ordered Abroad." He -describes their fights; their life under cover; their lodgings, billets -and experiences in the trenches, "sitting tight." It is "men of this -stamp," he says, "who have the fortunes of England in their keeping. -And they are called 'The Boys of the Bulldog Breed.'") - -FOOTNOTE: - -[2] All numerals relate to stories herein told--not to chapters from -original sources. - - - - -"HOW BELGIUM SAVED EUROPE"--THE LITTLE KINGDOM OF HEROES - -_Tragedy of the Belgians_ - -_Told by Dr. Charles Sarolea, Ph. D. (Liege), Litt. D. (Brussels), -Belgian Consul in Edinburgh_ - - Dr. Sarolea is the historian of the Belgian people in the world - tragedy through which they have passed. Count D'Aviella, Belgian - Secretary of State, exclaims: "I am sure no one can read these - tragic pages without becoming more than ever confirmed in his - conviction that we are fighting in the cause of right, of liberty, - and of civilization." Dr. Sarolea has for twelve years been Belgian - Consul in Scotland; he is the personal friend of His Majesty - King Albert of Belgium, with whom he frequently sits in private - audience. He has written a book, "How Belgium Saved Europe," which - sets forth the great tragedy which places the Belgian people on the - same plane with those soul stirring heroes of universal history in - the Persian Wars of Greece, the Punic Wars of Rome, the Wars of - Spain against the Moors, the epic of Joan of Arc, the Wars of the - French Revolution--and all the outstanding and inspiring chapters - in the drama of human heroism. He tells about "The Hero-King" and - "The German Plot in Belgium." We here record his story on "The - Destruction of Louvain," by permission of his publishers, _J. B. - Lippincott Company_: Copyright 1915. - -[3] I--STORIES OF MAD FURY IN LOUVAIN - -On September 1 (1914) a procession of refugees from Louvain arrived at -Malines in a frenzy of terror with the news that the town of Louvain -had been set on fire by the Germans and that the whole city was a heap -of ruins. The wildest stories added to the horror of the tale. It -was said that there had been a wholesale massacre of men, women, and -children, and that hundreds of priests, and especially Jesuits, had -been singled out for murder. Many of the stories proved to be without -any foundation. But when all the exaggerations had been discounted -there remained a body of substantial facts that were enough to send a -thrill of indignation through Europe. - -Two certainties emerged from the chaos of conflicting evidence. First, -there had been indiscriminate slaughter of civilians and looting of -property. Secondly, the Germans, armed with incendiary fuses and -obeying the order of the military authorities, had methodically burned -the whole section of Louvain which extends from the station in the -centre of the town, including the University and the church of St. -Pierre. - -Since the destruction of the hapless University town other atrocities -have followed in almost daily succession, Termonde, Aerschot, Malines, -Antwerp. The world has almost got accustomed to them. There has been -nothing like this mad fury of destruction in the whole history of -modern warfare. Rheims has outdone even Louvain, and the ruin of the -Cathedral of Rheims is an even greater loss than the destruction of the -old Belgian Catholic University. - -Still Louvain remains the one crowning infamy. German casuistry may at -least find some extenuating circumstances in the fact that Rheims was -a fortified town, and that the Cathedral tower might have been used as -an observation post for the French armies. For the crime of Louvain -no extenuating circumstance can be urged. Louvain was undefended. It -was a peaceful city of students, priests, and landladies. It was in -the occupation of the Germans. Its destruction, therefore, was both a -wanton and a cowardly act of cruelty, and being both wanton and cruel, -it will stand out as the typical atrocity of German militarism. - -Only those who are familiar with the history of Belgium and Brabant, -and with the history of Belgian Universities, know what Louvain and -the University stood for. Founded in 1425, in the days of Petrarch, -Froissart, and Chaucer, it was one of the oldest and most illustrious -seats of learning in Europe. It was the seat of Pope Adrian VI, -the tutor of Charles V. It still remained the most famous Catholic -University in the world. It still attracted scholars from every -country. It was still the nursery of Irish, English, and American -priests. - -And not only had Louvain 500 years of learning behind it, it was also a -city with a magnificent municipal tradition. The town hall, one of the -gems of Gothic architecture, was a glorious monument to that municipal -tradition. By the destruction of Louvain the German soldiery have -wiped out five centuries of religious and intellectual culture and of -municipal freedom. - - -II--THE TRUTH ABOUT GERMAN ATROCITIES - -Wherever the Germans have perpetrated some atrocious crime they have -used the same threadbare excuse--the shooting of German soldiers by -civilians. Civilians fired on German soldiers at Vise, therefore Vise -was razed to the ground. The fourteen-year-old son of the Burgomaster -of Aerschot killed a German officer, therefore the whole city of -Aerschot had to be destroyed. Similarly, it was to avenge the murder of -German soldiers that Louvain was burned. It is the civilian population -of Louvain who must ultimately be held responsible. - -On the face of it, the German version is an incredible invention. -Louvain was in the occupation of German troops. _All the arms had -been handed in days before by the civil population._ The authorities -had posted placards recommending tranquility to the population, and -warning them that any individual act of hostility would bring down -instant vengeance. Those placards could still be read on the walls -on the day of the destruction of Louvain. Under those circumstances, -is it credible that a few peaceful citizens should have brought down -destruction by their own deliberate act, which they knew would be met -with instant and ruthless retribution? - -But even assuming that individual Belgians had been guilty of firing -on the German troops, supposing a civilian exasperated by the -monstrous treatment described in the narrative of Mr. Van Ernem, the -Town Treasurer. When the Belgian troops were repulsed by the enemy's -crushing numbers, and the Germans had put their big guns in position -on all the heights dominating the town, the Germans sent a deputation -to the Burgomaster, who agreed to receive the officers to hear their -proposals and conditions for occupying the town. - -The German General with his etat-major then came to the town hall to -confer with the Burgomaster, councillors, and myself as treasurer of -the town. - -These were the stipulated conditions. - -First: That the town should fully provide for the invaders, in -consideration of which no war contributions would be exacted. - -Secondly: The soldiers not billeted in private houses were to pay cash -for all goods obtained; also, they were not to molest the inhabitants -under any circumstances. - -These stiplations, agreed to on both sides, were most scrupulously kept -by the Belgians, but not by the Germans. On certain days, for example, -the Germans would exact 67,000 pounds of meat, and would let 20,000 -pounds of it rot, although the population were suffering from hunger. - -On Monday, August 24, toward 10 P. M., the Burgomaster--a respectable -merchant, sixty-two years of age--was arrested in his bed, where he was -lying ill. He was forced to rise and marched to the railway station, -where it was demanded of him that he should provide immediately 250 -warm meals and as many mattresses for the soldiers, under penalty of -being shot. With admirable dispatch the inhabitants rushed to comply -with the German demand. In their solicitude and pity for their aged -chief, and their anxiety to save his life, they gave their own beds and -their last drops of wine. - -The Germans acted without the slightest consideration or regard for the -faithful promises of their etat-major. The troops rushed into private -houses, making forcible entrances, and taking from old and young, -many of the latter already orphans, whatever they fancied, paying -for nothing except with paper money to be presented to the "caisse -communal" at the end of the war. - -The promise of exemption from contribution to a war levy was violated, -like every other contract. Failing to find enough money in the -treasury, the Germans in authority ordered the immediate payment of -100,000 francs. - -This large sum could not be gathered from the inhabitants, and nearly -all the banks had on the first warning of the approach of the enemy -succeeded in transferring their funds to the National Bank. - -Finally, after much bickering, the officer in command of the German -troops agreed to accept 3,000 fr., to be paid the next day. But with -the next morning came a further demand for 5,000 fr. The Burgomaster -vigorously protested against this new exaction; but nevertheless I, -as treasurer of the town, was held responsible for collecting 5,000 -fr. With the greatest difficulty, I succeeded in procuring 3,080 fr., -and after considerable bickering this sum was accepted by the enemy, -and the horrors of reprisals were delayed. The population, conscious -of the terrible risk which they ran, submitted with calm resignation -to the inevitable. As a functionary of the city, I can vouch for the -absolutely dignified and passive attitude of the whole population -of Louvain. They understood perfectly well their grave individual -responsibility, and that any break of their promises would be instantly -met by crushing action. - -The position of affairs was minutely explained to the inhabitants in -several printed proclamations, and they were personally warned by our -venerable Burgomaster. Good order was so rigorously maintained that the -German authorities praised the exemplary conduct of the inhabitants. - -This attitude was all the more laudable because the invaders, -immediately upon entering the city, liberated nine of their compatriots -who had been incarcerated before the war for murder, theft, and other -felonies. - - -III--TRUE STORIES OF "THE UNSPEAKABLE CRIME" - -At last, on the Tuesday night, there took place the unspeakable crime, -the shame of which can be understood only by those who followed and -watched the different phases of the German occupation of Louvain. - -It is a significant fact that the German wounded and sick, including -their Red Cross nurses, were all removed from the hospitals. The -Germans meanwhile proceeded methodically to make a last and supreme -requisition, although they knew the town could not satisfy it. - -Towards 6 o'clock the bugle sounded, and officers lodging in private -houses left at once with arms and luggage. At the same time thousands -of additional soldiers, with numerous field-pieces and cannon, marched -into the town to their allotted positions. The gas factory, which -had been idle, had been worked through the previous night and day by -Germans, so that during this premeditated outrage the people could not -take advantage of darkness to escape from the town. A further fact -that proves their premeditation is that the attack took place at 8 -o'clock, the exact time at which the population entered their houses in -conformity with the German orders--consequently escape became well-nigh -impossible. At 8.20 a full fusillade with the roar of the cannons came -from all sides of the town at once. - -The sky at the same time was lit up with the sinister light of fires -from all quarters. The cavalry charged through the streets, sabring -fugitives, while the infantry, posted on the footpaths, had their -fingers on the triggers of their guns waiting for the unfortunate -people to rush from the houses or appear at the windows, the soldiers -complimenting each other on their marksmanship as they fired at the -unhappy fugitives. - -Those whose homes were not yet destroyed were ordered to quit and -follow the soldiers to the railway station. There the men were -separated from mothers, wives, and children, and thrown, some bound, -into trains leaving in the direction of Germany. - -I cannot but feel that, following the system they have inaugurated -in this campaign, the Germans will use these non-combatant prisoners -as human shields when they are fighting the Allies. The cruelty of -these madmen surpasses all limits. They shot numbers of absolutely -inoffensive people, forcing those who survived to bury their dead in -the square, already encumbered with corpses whose positions suggested -that they had fallen with arms uplifted in token of surrender. - -Others who have been allowed to live were driven past approving drunken -officers by the brutal use of rifle butts, and while they were being -maltreated they saw their carefully collected art and other treasures -being shared out by the soldiers, the officers looking on. Those -who attempted to appeal to their tormentors' better feelings were -immediately shot. A few were let loose, but most of them were sent to -Germany. - -On Wednesday at daybreak the remaining women and children were driven -out of the town--a lamentable spectacle--with uplifted arms and under -the menace of bayonets and revolvers. - -The day was practically calm. The destruction of the most beautiful -part of the town seemed to have momentarily soothed the barbarian rage -of the invaders. - -On the Thursday the remnant of the Civil Guard was called up on -the pretext of extinguishing the conflagration; those who demurred -were chained and sent with some wounded Germans to the Fatherland. -The population had to quit at a moment's notice before the final -destruction. - -Then, to complete their devastation, the German hordes fell back on the -surrounding villages to burn them. They tracked down the men--some were -shot, some made prisoners--and during many long hours they tortured the -helpless women and children. This country of Eastern Brabant, so rich, -so fertile, and so beautiful, is to-day a deserted charnel-house. - -Why should these individual deeds have been visited on thousands of -innocent and inoffensive people? Why should those deeds have been -visited on monuments of brick and stone? Why should treasuries of -learning and shrines of religion be destroyed? Why should the six -centuries of European history be destroyed because of the acts of a few -patriots acting under the impulse of terror or indignation? - -As I said, the whole truth cannot yet be revealed. It is difficult -to disentangle the facts even from ocular witnesses, from terrorized -victims who were present at the ghastly crime. I have cross-examined -some of those witnesses. I have read private letters from my cousin, -Professor Albert Nerincx, at present Acting-Burgomaster of Louvain, who -assumed office when the civic authorities had left, and whose heroic -conduct is one of the few bright spots in the tragedy. Comparing and -collating all the evidence at our disposal, we may take the following -version given by the Belgian Commission of Inquiry as substantially -correct: - -"On Tuesday evening a German corps, after receiving a check, withdrew -in disorder into the town of Louvain. A German guard at the entrance of -the town mistook the nature of this incursion and fired on their routed -fellow-countrymen, mistaking them for Belgians. - -"In spite of all denials from the authorities the Germans, in order -to cover their mistake, pretended that it was the inhabitants who had -fired on them, whereas the inhabitants, including the police, had been -disarmed more than a week ago. - -"Without inquiry, and without listening to any protests, the German -Commander-in-Chief announced that the town would be immediately -destroyed. The inhabitants were ordered to leave their dwellings; a -party of men were made prisoners and the women and children put into -trains the destination of which is unknown. Soldiers furnished with -bombs set fire to all parts of the town." - - -IV--MURDER--LOOT--RAPINE--IN BELGIUM - -An Oxford student who visited the scene of the disaster with Mr. Henry -Fuerst, of Exeter College, Oxford, on August 29, gives the following -description of the awful picture: - -"Burning houses were every moment falling into the roads; shooting -was still going on. The dead and dying, burnt and burning, lay on all -sides. Over some the Germans had placed sacks. I saw about half a dozen -women and children. In one street I saw two little children walking -hand in hand over the bodies of dead men. I have no words to describe -these things. I hope people will not make too much of the saving of the -Hotel de Ville. - -"The Hotel de Ville was standing on Friday morning last, and, as we -plainly saw, every effort was being made to save it from the flames. We -were told by German officers that it was not to be destroyed. I have -personally no doubt that it is still standing. The German officers -dashing about the streets in fine motor-cars made a wonderful sight. -They were well-dressed, shaven, and contented-looking; they might have -been assisting at a fashionable race-meeting. The soldiers were looting -everywhere; champagne, wines, boots, cigars--everything was being -carried off." - -But let it not be thought that Louvain was destroyed in vain. To the -Belgian people it has meant more than a glorious victory. To the -Germans it has been more disastrous than the most ignominious defeat. -Until Louvain neutral peoples might still hesitate in their sympathies. -Pacifists might still waver as to the justice of the cause. After -Louvain any hesitation or doubt became impossible. The destruction of -Louvain was needed to drive home the meaning of German culture. The -crime of Louvain branded the German rulers and the commanders of the -German armies as the enemies of the human race. - - * * * * * - -The atrocities committed by the German armies have roused the -indignation of both hemispheres. They have placed Germany outside the -pale of civilization. They have covered the German armies with eternal -infamy. In the full light of the twentieth century the German terror -has outdone the deeds and wiped out the memory of the Spanish terror. -We make ample allowances for wild rumors bred of panic, although -in the present instance the panic caused by the mere approach of -the German soldiery is in itself a most significant symptom. If the -German armies had observed the laws of civilized warfare which protect -the defenceless inhabitants, there would have been no need for the -population to fly for their lives, and there would not be at present a -million homeless exiles wandering over the high roads of Holland. - - * * * * * - -(Dr. Sarolea describes the vicissitudes of Belgian triumphants -alternating with Belgian reverses, the pathetic story of brave endeavor -and of suffering nobly endured in the noblest of causes. The Defense of -Liege, the fall of Namur, the capture of Brussels and the beleaguering -of Antwerp: the destruction of Dinant and Termonde, the bursting of the -dykes of the Scheldt, the German Terror and the wholesale exodus of the -stricken nation which through all time will be the favorite theme of -historians and poets.) - -FOOTNOTE: - -[3] All numerals throughout this volume relate to the stories herein -told--not to chapters in the original books. - - - - -THE BISHOP OF LONDON'S VISIT TO THE FRONT - -_Taking the Message of Christ to the Battle Lines_ - -_Told by The Reverend G. Vernon Smith, Resident Chaplain to the Bishop -of London, Deputy Priest in Ordinary to the King_ - - This is an account of how a Bishop of the Church of England visited - the troops at the front. He went to France as the guest of Sir John - French, Field Marshall of the British Army, to spend Holy Week and - Easter with the troops. The chaplain who relates these experiences - was one of the guests. He said before he left London, the Bishop - received most cordial letters of God-speed from the Bishops of - Canterbury and York. The Bishop's first evening in France was spent - at the Soldiers' Institute at Boulogne, and this building was - packed with soldiers at a concert. He then started in a motor car - for the headquarters of the British Army, where he was received by - the Field Marshall with all the members of the staff. A complete - record of his journeys has been published by _Longmans, Green and - Company_, with whose permission the following chapter is here - presented. - -[4] I--HOLY COMMUNION AT THE FRONT - -It was in ---- that the Bishop for the first time came close to the -actual front and within range of the German guns. The cars were at the -door of the house where the Bishop was billeted, in a quiet little -side-street, at 6:45 in the morning, for an early start had been -arranged. - -We drove through the narrow streets to one of the large Hospitals in -the town, where he celebrated the Holy Communion at seven o'clock for -those of the officers and patients who wished to attend. After this -service the other patients came in for morning prayers, at which the -Bishop said a few words to them. It was invariably the case, when the -Bishop visited a hospital, that there were many patients who wished to -have a word with him. There were always, also, some men to whom, for -some special reason, the Medical Officer or Chaplain wished to take -him, and not infrequently in the Officers' Hospitals there were men -whom he knew personally. - -It was, therefore, a hard task to keep up to time in saying "Good-bye" -at a hospital, and Mr. Macpherson, whom the Bishop soon called his -"nigger-driver," and who was responsible for seeing that the time-table -was strictly kept--a task of considerable difficulty--had generally to -remind the Bishop at a suitable moment that his car was waiting at the -door. - -In a few minutes we had arrived at the Jute Factory again, where thirty -men were ready and waiting to be confirmed in the little Chapel which -has been carefully partitioned off in one corner of the building. - -It had been arranged that on this day the Bishop should visit some of -the London Regiments that have recently gone to the front. Naturally -he always looked forward with special eagerness to an opportunity of -meeting, in these fresh surroundings, London men, to so many of whom he -has spoken and preached in his diocese. Fortunately he was able in the -course of the week to visit nearly all these regiments, although some -of the men who were in the trenches could not, of course, be present -at his services. To us, coming out from London, it was a great source -of satisfaction and pride to hear of the high esteem in which these -Territorial regiments are held by the leaders of our Army. - -It was not a very long time, as the motors slipped along the quiet -country roads, before we began to hear the distant sound of guns, and -as long as we were within a short distance of the firing-line there was -seldom an hour in which guns could not be distinctly heard. - -Here and there, too, could be seen a battery hidden beneath a belt of -trees, or sheltered under the hedge by the side of the road. We were -curious to see how the countryside would look after its long occupation -by the British Army. We had expected, perhaps, to see more signs of -war, although we had not known what to anticipate. - -Beyond the fact that there were many bodies of troops moving on the -roads, and that many farms and other large houses had notices fixed -up outside to show they were the Headquarters of some unit, there -was nothing, as a rule, except in the areas which have been actually -shelled, to give any indication of the terrible nature of the struggle -which is being waged so close at hand. Indeed, if the road took us to -the top of one of the few hills in that country, and we looked out over -the landscape, just beginning to show the first touches of spring, -it was almost impossible to realize that between us and the horizon -stretched that long valley of trenches which divides the two great -armies. - -When we drove along the roads at some distance from the actual front, -it was often hard to believe that this was the real seat of war; but a -passing transport wagon or a patrol of cavalry riding by soon reminded -us of stern realities. The recent absence of rain, and the warm sun, -had caused the roads to dry up considerably, and many officers seemed -to be quite disappointed not to be able to show us many samples of -the mud to which they had become so accustomed, and of which we had -heard so much. We wondered, also, very much how the men would look -after their hard and trying winter. Certainly I was surprised to notice -how very clean and tidy they invariably appeared to be; although, of -course, uniforms must show signs of wear and tear. In every case, -except where the men were actually fresh from the trenches, the -Battalions presented a smart appearance. - - -II--SOLDIERS SINGING: "JESUS LOVER OF MY SOUL" - -At our first halt a Battalion of the London Regiment was drawn up on -parade in a field, and for the first time we opened the large red box -and handed round the hymn-sheets. It was here that we were to begin to -understand the wonderful uplifting power of our great English hymns -when they are sung on great occasions. After all, the heart of a nation -is often to be found in its hymns. They express a simple theology in -simple terms, and words and tunes of hymns learned in childhood are -very dear to men, even if in the rush of life they have not, as many -said, "found much time for religion before I came to France." The -Bishop had chosen hymns which he knew would be familiar to all the men -of all denominations. - -Only four hymns were sung throughout the week--"When I Survey the -Wondrous Cross," "Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me," "There Is a Green -Hill Far Away," and "Jesus, Lover of My Soul"--hymns which are known -throughout the world wherever British men have gone. There was no -necessity to have an accompaniment, for everybody knew the tunes. Once -or twice a band was present, and now and then a small harmonium was -used, but as a rule the hymns were sung unaccompanied, except by the -thunder of the guns. - -It is always moving and inspiring to join in hymns when they are -sung by large bodies of men, especially when those hymns have been -associated with great moments in our lives, but never before can these -familiar tunes have had such a setting; never, certainly, have they -been sung more reverently or with greater earnestness. Perhaps, as -children they liked the tunes best, but now that they have become men -and put away childish things, the soldiers think first of the words. - -How much those words meant to many hearts no one but He to Whom all -hearts are open can ever know; but that they moved thoughts too deep -for words was clearly written on every face in those great gatherings -of men. As they must have raised many memories of childhood in the -hearts of many of the men, so now they will in future years be sung by -many with another and a deeper memory of the occasions when they were -sung upon the battlefields of Flanders in the days of the Great War. - -There was one verse in the Gospels which was continually in my mind at -these great services. In Holy Week, of course, we were often thinking -of that last night of our Lord with His disciples in the upper room at -Jerusalem before He went out to His great battle in Gethsemane, and on -the Cross: "When they had sung an hymn, they went out into the Mount of -Olives." - -We were with men at the great moments of their lives, many of them -having come straight out of the trenches, many going back to the -trenches in but a few moments after we had left them--men who had -been in battle, and men who were preparing for battle. Nobody who was -present at those services would ever forget what it meant to say: "And -when they had sung a hymn, they went back to the trenches." - -Every service, of course, was closed with the National Anthem. At -the front, men seem instinctively to know that this great hymn is in -reality a prayer, and on not a few occasions the whole body of men -reverently sang "Amen" at the conclusion of the last line. So also "God -Save the King" will have won for itself an even deeper place in the -hearts of men than that which it has held for so many generations. - -From the open field, it was not far to pass on to a little French town -where another regiment was drawn up in the principal square. No more -suitable place could have been chosen for a service, and a wagon, which -served as a pulpit for the Bishop, was just in front of the western -door of the fine old church. - - -III--"THE KINGDOM OF GOD"--NEAR THE GUNS - -To see a Bishop of the Anglican Communion preaching in France at the -door of a Roman Catholic church raised many thoughts in my mind. -I could not but hope that these days of trial may draw the Allies -together by something that is deeper than the bonds of friendship. -We had heard not infrequently of the sympathetic help which is being -offered by many priests of the Roman Catholic Church to our own -Chaplains, and I thought, as many are thinking at this time, that if -the war could serve in any way to help the two great Communions to -understand better their distinctive points of view, some real step -will have been taken to advance the cause of the Kingdom of God. -This service was reverently watched by a considerable number of the -inhabitants of the place. - -After holding a short service for two batteries near their guns, the -Bishop came to another open square where a Brigade was assembled, which -included a regiment almost, if not entirely, recruited from East -London. The East Londoner has his own unique characteristics, and his -friends will be glad to know that he is just as cheerful and bright in -France at war as he is in England in times of peace. It was hard to -distinguish faces, but as the regiment swung by the place where I was -standing, I saw many who remembered me from the time that I spent at -Oxford House, and they waved just as hearty a greeting from the ranks -as they used to wave from the top of a van in the Bethnal Green Road -five years ago. - -The deepest note on this day was struck when we came to a little town -filled with British troops, a very large number of whom had been -recently engaged in heavy fighting. The Chaplain had sent a notice -throughout one Division that the Bishop would hold a short service in -the evening for officers, and that this would be followed by a service -for non-commissioned officers and men. As he entered the large hall -which is used for a church in that town, he found at least five hundred -officers, including many Generals, waiting in silence. They had come, -some of them, from considerable distances, and almost every officer -who was off duty in that district must have been present. It was only -a bare, whitewashed building, with a hard stone floor, and a little -platform at the end, but in it were gathered together some of the -flower of the British Army. - -There were Generals kneeling side by side with subalterns--men who had -faced together the terrible ordeal of battle. Those who were present -will surely never forget the silence and reverence of that service. - - -IV--THE CANADIANS--AND A BENEDICTION - -After so long a day the Bishop was naturally beginning to feel tired, -and his voice began to show signs of the great tax which frequent -speaking in the open air had placed upon it. But there was one more -gathering at which he was to be present, and in many ways this was the -most striking and memorable of the whole Mission. - -The Canadians were there, and they wished to see him. That was quite -enough for the Bishop. His two visits to the Dominion have made Canada -very dear to his heart, and to Canada he will always give of his best. -It was not far to go to the large open square in the town where the -Canadians were waiting for him. The square was packed with men, and in -the center was a statue or fountain--I really could not distinguish -which, so completely was it concealed by the men sitting and standing -upon it. - -The last rays of the sun came across the old tiled roofs, and lent a -touch of color to the scene. On one side of the square was the Town -Hall, and the Bishop stood in the balcony, surrounded by the General -and staff officers. It was a moving sight to look down from the balcony -of this old French Town Hall upon this great gathering of men who had -come so many thousands of miles from their homes to fight for the -honor of the Empire. There was no opportunity for an ordinary service. -The gathering darkness would have made it impossible for the men to -read, and, even if it had been lighter, the men were so closely packed -together that hymn-sheets could not have been held. - -It is always difficult to estimate numbers, but someone said that -nearly ten thousand men must have been present. When the Bishop -appeared on the balcony there was a Canadian cheer. He is well known in -the Dominion, and the volume of sound left no doubt as to the warmth of -feeling with which he is regarded there. - -"This is a sight," he began, "which reminds me of Montreal and -Toronto." - -"How about Winnipeg?" came a voice from the crowd, and the men all -laughed. It was a glorious chance to tell them of the way in which the -Mother Country appreciates the splendid loyalty with which her sons -beyond the seas have rallied at the Empire's call, and the Bishop was -not slow to let them know that we in Great Britain rejoice to feel -that the men of Canada and the men of Britain are standing shoulder to -shoulder in France. And then they cheered again. - -"Yes, you may cheer that," he added, "while I get breath for the next -sentence." He passed on to speak of the great cause of the freedom of -the world for which the Empire and the Allies are fighting to-day. -Canada, the great self-governing Dominion--free, and yet part of the -Empire--would understand what freedom means. - -"Yes, you may cheer that too," the Bishop said, "while I get breath -again." - -And then, as he turned to deeper thoughts and closed, he added: "Now -we will all together say the Lord's Prayer." In a flash there was not -a cap to be seen in the square, but only the bared heads of that great -throng of men reverently bent forward in prayer. Then, in absolute -silence, the Bishop gave the Blessing, and as he left the balcony a -staff officer turned to me and said: "That is a really great man." - -FOOTNOTE: - -[4] All numerals relate to stories herein told--not to chapters from -original sources. - - - - -"GRAPES OF WRATH"--WITH THE "BIG PUSH" ON THE SOMME - -_Twenty-four Hours in the Life of a Private Soldier_ - -_Told by Boyd Cable, an English Author in the British Army_ - - Boyd Cable has suddenly become one of the foremost word painters - of active fighting--"the greatest literary discovery of the War." - He is primarily a man of action. At the age of twenty, he joined a - corps of Scouts in the Boer War and fought in South Africa. He then - became a traveler and spent some time in Australia and New Zealand, - in the Philippines, Java and the Islands of the Pacific. He is a - "knight of adventure"--he has been an ordinary seaman, a typewriter - agent, a steamer fireman, office manager, hobo, gold prospector, - coach driver, navvy. He was one of the first men not in the Regular - Army to get a commission and be sent to the front in 1914. As an - observation officer in the artillery, he was "spotted" by the enemy - sharpshooters, got a bullet through his cap, one through the inside - of his sleeve close to his heart, and fifty-three others near - enough for him to hear them pass--all in less than an hour. After - eighteen months of this death-defying work without even a wound, - he was invalided home on account of stomach trouble and then began - to write of his adventures. His books, "Behind the Line," "Action - Front," and "Doing Their Bit," are acknowledged to be the most - vivid and stimulating pictures of the War as seen by the men in the - trenches. We here record his story of the tanks from his volume of - tales entitled "Grapes of Wrath," by permission of his publishers, - _E. P. Dutton and Company_: Copyright 1917. - -[5] I--STORY OF "KENTUCKY"--AN AMERICAN IN THE BRITISH TRENCHES - -Soon after Kentucky rejoined them the Stonewalls were moved forward a -little clear of the village they had helped to take, just as one or two -heavy shells whooped over from the German guns and dropped crashing on -the ground that had been theirs. The men were spread out along shell -holes and told to dig in for better cover because a bit of a redoubt on -the left flank hadn't been taken and bullets were falling in enfilade -from it. - -"Dig, you cripples," said the sergeant, "dig in. Can't you see that -if they counter-attack from the front now you'll get shot in the back -while you're lining the front edge of those shell holes. Get to it -there, you Pug." - -"Shot in the back, linin' the front," said Pug as the sergeant passed -on. "Is it a conundrum, Kentuck?" - -"Sounds sort of mixed," admitted Kentucky. "But it's tainted some with -the truth. That redoubt is half rear to us. If another lot comes at us -in front and we get up on the front edge of this shell hole, there's -nothing to stop the redoubt bullets hitting us in the back. Look at -that," he concluded, nodding upward to where a bullet had smacked -noisily into the mud above their heads as they squatted in the hole. - -The two commenced wearily to cut out with their trenching tools a -couple of niches in the sides of the crater which would give them -protection from the flank and rear bullets. They made reasonably -secure cover and then stayed to watch a hurricane bombardment that was -developing on the redoubt. "_Goo_ on the guns," said Pug joyfully. -"That's the talk; smack 'em about." - -The gunners "smacked 'em about" with fifteen savage minutes' deluge -of light and heavy shells, blotting out the redoubt in a whirlwind of -fire-flashes, belching smoke clouds and dust haze. Then suddenly the -tempest ceased to play there, lifted and shifted and fell roaring in a -wall of fire and steel beyond the low slope which the redoubt crowned. - -With past knowledge of what the lift and the further barrage meant the -two men in the shell-pit turned and craned their necks and looked out -along the line. - -"There they go," said Pug suddenly, and "Attacking round a -half-circle," said Kentucky. The British line was curved in a horseshoe -shape about the redoubt and the two being out near one of the points -could look back and watch clearly the infantry attack launching from -the center and half-way round the sides of the horseshoe. They saw -the khaki figures running heavily, scrambling round and through the -scattered shell holes, and presently, as a crackle of rifle fire rose -and rose and swelled to a sullen roar with the quick, rhythmic clatter -of machine guns beating through it, they saw also the figures stumbling -and falling, the line thinning and shredding out and wasting away under -the withering fire. - -The sergeant dodged along the pit-edge above them. "Covering fire," he -shouted, "at four hundred--slam it in," and disappeared. The two opened -fire, aiming at the crest of the slope and beyond the tangle of barbed -wire which alone indicated the position of the redoubt. - -They only ceased to fire when they saw the advanced fringe of the line, -of a line by now woefully thinned and weakened, come to the edge of the -barbed wire and try to force a way through it. - -"They're beat," gasped Pug. "They're done in ..." and cursed long and -bitterly, fingering nervously at his rifle the while. "Time we rung in -again," said Kentucky. "Aim steady and pitch 'em well clear of the -wire." The two opened careful fire again while the broken remnants of -the attacking line ran and hobbled and crawled back or into the cover -of shell holes. A second wave flooded out in a new assault, but by now -the German artillery joining in helped it and the new line was cut -down, broken and beaten back before it had covered half the distance to -the entanglements. Kentucky and Pug and others of the Stonewalls near -them could only curse helplessly as they watched the tragedy and plied -their rifles in a slender hope of some of their bullets finding those -unseen loopholes and embrasures. - - -II--HIS MAJESTY'S LAND SHIP--"WE ARE HERE" - -"An' wot's the next item o' the program, I wonder?" said Pug half an -hour after the last attack had failed, half an hour filled with a -little shooting, a good deal of listening to the pipe and whistle of -overhead bullets and the rolling thunder of the guns, a watching of the -shells falling and spouting earth and smoke on the defiant redoubt. - -"Reinforcements and another butt-in at it, I expect," surmised -Kentucky. "Don't see anything else for it. Looks like this -pimple-on-the-map of a redoubt was holdin' up any advance on this -front. Anyhow I'm not hankering to go pushin' on with that redoubt -bunch shootin' holes in my back, which they'd surely do." - -"Wot's all the buzz about be'ind us?" said Pug suddenly, raising -himself for a quick look over the covering edge of earth behind him, -and in the act of dropping again stopped and stared with raised -eyebrows and gaping mouth. - -"What is it?" said Kentucky quickly, and also rose, and also stayed -risen and staring in amazement. Towards them, lumbering and rolling, -dipping heavily into the shell holes, heaving clumsily out of them, -moving with a motion something between that of a half-sunken ship and a -hamstrung toad, striped and banded and splashed from head to foot, or, -if you prefer, from fo'c'sl-head to cutwater, with splashes of lurid -color, came His Majesty's Land Ship "Here We Are." - -"Gor-_strewth_!" ejaculated Pug. "Wha-what is it?" - -Kentucky only gasped. - -"'Ere," said Pug hurriedly, "let's gerrout o' this. It's comin' over -atop of us," and he commenced to scramble clear. - -But a light of understanding was dawning on Kentucky's face and a wide -grin growing on his lips. "It's one of the Tanks," he said, and giggled -aloud as the Here We Are dipped her nose and slid head first into a -huge shell-crater in ludicrous likeness to a squat bull-pup sitting -back on its haunches and dragged into a hole: "I've heard lots about -'em, but the seein' beats all the hearin' by whole streets," and he and -Pug laughed aloud together as the Here We Are's face and gun-port eyes -and bent-elbow driving gear appeared above the crater rim in still more -ridiculous resemblance to an amazed toad emerging from a rain-barrel. -The creature lumbered past them, taking in its stride the narrow trench -dug to link up the shell holes, and the laughter on Kentucky's lips -died to thoughtfully serious lines as his eye caught the glint of fat, -vicious-looking gun muzzles peering from their ports. - -"Haw haw haw," guffawed Pug as the monster lurched drunkenly, checked -and steadied itself with one foot poised over a deep hole, halted and -backed away, and edged nervously round the rim of the hole. "See them -machine guns pokin' out, Kentucky," he continued delightedly. "They -won't 'arf pepper them Huns when they gets near enough." - -Fifty yards in the wake of the Here We Are a line of men followed -up until an officer halted them along the front line where Pug and -Kentucky were posted. - -"You blokes just takin' 'im out for an airin'?" Pug asked one of the -newcomers. "Oughtn't you to 'ave 'im on a leadin' string?" - -"Here we are, Here we are again," chanted the other and giggled -spasmodically. "An' ain't he just hot stuff! But wait till you see 'im -get to work with his sprinklers." - -"Does 'e bite?" asked Pug, grinning joyously. "Oughtn't you to 'ave 'is -muzzle on?" - -"Bite," retorted another. "He's a bloomin' Hun-eater. Jes' gulps 'em -whole, coal-scuttle 'ats an' all." - -"He's a taed," said another. "A lollopin, flat-nosed, splay-fittit, -ugly puddock, wi's hin' legs stuck oot whaur his front should be." - -"Look at 'im, oh, look at 'im ... he's alive, lad, nobbut alive."... -"Does every bloomin' thing but talk."... "Skatin' he is now, skatin' on -'is off hind leg," came a chorus of delighted comment. - -"Is he goin' to waltz in and take that redoubt on his ownsum?" asked -Kentucky. "No," some one told him. "We give him ten minutes' start and -then follow on and pick up the pieces, and the prisoners." - - -III--HOW THE "TOMMIES" CHEERED THE "PEPPER POTS"--TANK TALES - -They lay there laughing and joking and watching the uncouth antics of -the monster waddling across the shell-riddled ground, cheering when -it appeared to trip and recover itself, cheering when it floundered -sideways into a hole and crawled out again, cheering most wildly of -all when it reached the barbed-wire entanglements, waddled through, -bursting them apart and trailing them in long tangles behind it, or -trampling them calmly under its churning caterpillar-wheel-bands. It -was little wonder they cheered and less wonder they laughed. The Here -We Are's motions were so weirdly alive and life-like, so playfully -ponderous, so massively ridiculous, that it belonged by nature to -nothing outside a Drury Lane Panto. At one moment it looked exactly -like a squat tug-boat in a heavy cross sea or an ugly tide-rip, -lurching, dipping, rolling rail and rail, plunging wildly bows under, -tossing its nose up and squattering again stern-rail deep, pitching -and heaving and diving and staggering, but always pushing forward. -Next minute it was a monster out of Prehistoric Peeps, or a new patent -fire-breathing dragon from the pages of a very Grimm Fairy Tale, nosing -its way blindly over the Fairy Prince's pitfalls; next it was a big -broad-buttocked sow nuzzling and rooting as it went; next it was a -drunk man reeling and staggering, rolling and falling, scrabbling and -crawling; next it was--was anything on or in, or underneath the earth, -anything at all except a deadly, grim, purposeful murdering product of -modern war. - -The infantry pushed out after it when it reached the barbed wire, -and although they took little heed to keep cover--being much more -concerned not to miss any of the grave and comic antics of their giant -joke than to shelter from flying bullets--the line went on almost -without casualties. "Mighty few bullets about this time," remarked -Kentucky, who with Pug had moved out along with the others "to see the -fun." "That's 'cos they're too busy with the old Pepper-pots, an' the -Pepper-pots is too busy wi' them to leave much time for shootin' at -us," said Pug gayly. It was true too. The Pepper-pots--a second one -had lumbered into sight from the center of the horseshoe curve--were -drawing a tearing hurricane of machine-gun bullets that beat and -rattled on their armored sides like hail on a window-pane. They waddled -indifferently through the storm and Here We Are, crawling carefully -across a trench, halted half-way over and sprinkled bullets up and -down its length to port and starboard for a minute, hitched itself -over, steered straight for a fire-streaming machine-gun embrasure. It -squirted a jet of lead into the loophole, walked on, butted at the -emplacement once or twice, got a grip of it under the upward sloped -caterpillar band, climbed jerkily till it stood reared up on end like -a frightened colt, ground its driving bands round and round, and--fell -forward on its face with a cloud of dust belching up and out from the -collapsed dug-out. Then it crawled out of the wreckage, crunching over -splintered beams and broken concrete, wheeled and cruised casually down -the length of a crooked trench, halting every now and then to spray -bullets on any German who showed or to hail a stream of them down the -black entrance to a dug-out, straying aside to nose over any suspicious -cranny, swinging round again to plod up the slope in search of more -trenches. - -The infantry followed up, cheering and laughing like children at a -fair, rounding up batches of prisoners who crawled white-faced and with -scared eyes from dug-out doors and trench corners, shouting jests and -comments at the lumbering Pepper-pots. - -A yell went up as the Here We Are, edging along a trench, lurched -suddenly, staggered, side-slipped, and half disappeared in a fog of -dust. The infantry raced up and found it with its starboard driving -gear grinding and churning full power and speed of revolution above -ground and the whole port side and gear down somewhere in the depths of -the collapsed trench, grating and squealing and flinging out clods of -earth as big as clothes-baskets. Then the engines eased, slowed, and -stopped, and after a little and in answer to the encouraging yells of -the men outside, a scuttle jerked open and a grimy figure crawled out. - -"Blimey," said Pug rapturously, "'ere's Jonah 'isself. Ol' Pepper-pot's -spewed 'im out." - - -IV--JONAH'S SHIP RECHRISTENED--"THE D.T.'S" - -But "Jonah" addressed himself pointedly and at some length to the -laughing spectators, and they, urged on by a stream of objurgation and -invective, fell to work with trenching-tools, with spades retrieved -from the trench, with bare hands and busy fingers, to break down the -trench-side under Here We Are's starboard driver, and pile it down -into the trench and under the uplifted end of her port one. The second -Pepper-pot cruised up and brought to adjacent to the operations with -a watchful eye on the horizon. It was well she did, for suddenly a -crowd of Germans seeing or sensing that one of the monsters was out of -action, swarmed out of cover on the crest and came storming down on -the party. Here We Are could do nothing; but the sister ship could, -and did, do quite a lot to those Germans. It sidled round so as to -bring both bow guns and all its broadside to bear and let loose a -close-quarter tornado of bullets that cut the attackers to rags. The -men who had ceased digging to grab their rifles had not time to fire -a shot before the affair was over and "Jonah" was again urging them -to their spade-work. Then when he thought the way ready, Here We Are -at his orders steamed ahead again, its lower port side scraping and -jarring along the trench wall, the drivers biting and gripping at the -soft ground. Jerkily, a foot at a time, it scuffled its way along the -trench till it came to a sharp angle of it where a big shell hole had -broken down the wall. But just as the starboard driver was reaching -out over the shell hole and the easy job of plunging into it, gaining -a level keel and climbing out the other side, the trench wall on the -right gave way and the Here We Are sank its starboard side level to and -then below the port one. She had fallen bodily into a German dug-out, -but after a pause to regain its shaken breath--or the crew's--it began -once more to revolve its drivers slowly, and to churn out behind them, -first a cloud of dust and clots of earth, then, as the starboard -driver bit deeper into the dug-out, a mangled debris of clothing and -trench-made furniture. On the ground above the infantry stood shrieking -with laughter, while the frantic skipper raved unheard-of oaths and the -Here We Are pawed and hoofed behind, or caught on its driving band and -hoisted in turn into the naked light of day, a splintered bedstead, -a chewed-up blanket or two, separately and severally the legs, back, -and seat of a red velvet armchair, a torn gray coat and a forlorn and -muddy pair of pink pajama trousers tangled up in one officer's field -boot. And when the drivers got their grip again and the Here We are -rolled majestically forward and up the further sloping side of the -shell-crater and halted to take the skipper aboard again, Pug dragged -a long branch from the fascines in the trench debris, slid it up one -leg and down the other of the pink pajamas, tied the boot by its laces -to the tip and jammed the root into a convenient crevice in the Tank's -stern. And so beflagged she rolled her triumphant way up over the -captured redoubt and down the other side, with the boot-tip bobbing -and swaying and jerking at the end of her pink tail. The sequel to -her story may be told here, although it only came back to the men who -decorated her after filtering round the firing line, up and down the -communication lines, round half the hospitals and most of the messes -at or behind the Front. - -And many as came to be the Tales of the Tanks, this of the Pink-Tailed -'un, as Pug called her, belonged unmistakably to her and, being so, was -joyfully recognized and acclaimed by her decorators. She came in due -time across the redoubt, says the story, and bore down on the British -line at the other extreme of the horseshoe to where a certain infantry -C.O., famed in past days for a somewhat speedy and hectic career, -glared in amazement at the apparition lurching and bobbing and bowing -and crawling toad-like towards him. - -"I knew," he is reported to have afterwards admitted, "I knew it -couldn't be that I'd got 'em again. But in the old days I always had -one infallible sign. Crimson rats and purple snakes I might get over; -but if they had pink tails, I knew I was in for it certain. And I -tell you it gave me quite a turn to see this blighter waddling up and -wagging the old pink tail." - -But this end of the story only came to the Stonewalls long enough -after--just as it is said to have come in time to the ears of the Here -We Are's skipper, and, mightily pleasing him and his crew, set him -chuckling delightedly and swearing he meant to apply and in due and -formal course obtain permission to change his land-ship's name, and -having regretfully parted with the pink tail, immortalize it in the -name of H.M.L.S. _The D.T.'s_. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[5] All numerals relate to stories herein told--not to chapters from -original sources. - - - - -A NOVELIST AND SOLDIER ON THE BATTLE LINE - -_Letters by Coningsby Dawson_ - -_British-American Author of Many Notable Books_ - - Coningsby Dawson, the brilliant young novelist, was 31 years of - age at the outbreak of the war. He was graduated with honors from - Oxford in 1905 and came to the United States to take a theological - course at Union Seminary. After a year at the Seminary, he reached - the conclusion that his life work lay in literature. His family - left England and established their home in Taunton, Massachusetts. - Here, young Dawson began the career which is to place him in the - front rank of modern novelists. At the outbreak of the Great War, - he laid his pen aside and took up his sword for his native country. - Enlisting with the gallant Canadians, he went to the front where - he soon became a lieutenant. His letters home have been collected - by his father and published in book form under the title "Carry - On--Letters in War Time" by _John Lane Company_: Copyright 1917. - These intimate letters written from dug-outs on the Somme battle - fronts in the intervals of incessant artillery fire reveal the - heart of the young man who embodies the elements of greatness. - They breathe the very spirit of heroism. Several of the most - inspirational of these letters are here reproduced. - -[6] I--WITH 6,000 TROOPS AND A CONVOY - - Ottawa, July 16th, 1916. - DEAREST ALL: - -So much has happened since last I saw you that it's difficult to know -where to start. On Thursday, after lunch, I got the news that we were -to entrain from Petewawa next Friday morning. I at once put in for -leave to go to Ottawa the next day until the following Thursday at -Reveille. We came here with a lot of the other officers who are going -over and have been having a very full time. - -I am sailing from a port unknown on board the _Olympic_ with 6,000 -troops--there is to be a big convoy. I feel more than ever I did--and -I'm sure it's a feeling that you share since visiting the camp--that I -am setting out on a Crusade from which it would have been impossible -to withhold myself with honor. I go quite gladly and contentedly, and -pray that in God's good time we may all sit again in the little shack -at Kootenay and listen to the rustling of the orchard outside. It will -be of those summer days that I shall be thinking all the time. - - Yours, with very much love, - CON. - - -II--OFF FOR FRANCE--ACROSS THE CHANNEL - - Shorncliff, August 30th, 1916. - MY DEARESTS: - -I have just returned from sending you a cable to let you know that I'm -off to France. The word came out in orders yesterday, and I shall leave -before the end of the week with a draft of officers--I have been in -England just a day over four weeks.... - -Selfishly I wish that you were here at this moment--actually I'm glad -that you are away. Everybody goes out quite unemotionally and with very -few good-byes--we made far more fuss in the old days about a week-end -visit. - -Now that at last it has come--this privileged moment for which I have -worked and waited--my heart is very quiet. It's the test of a character -which I have often doubted. I shall be glad not to have to doubt it -again. Whatever happens, I know you will be glad to remember that at a -great crisis I tried to play the man, however small my qualifications. -We have always lived so near to one another's affections that this -going out alone is more lonely to me than to most men. I have always -had some one near at hand with love-blinded eyes to see my faults -as springing from higher motives. Now I reach out my hands across -six thousand miles and only touch yours with my imagination to say -good-bye. What queer sights these eyes, which have been almost your -eyes, will witness! If my hands do anything respectable, remember that -it is your hands that are doing it. It is your influence as a family -that has made me ready for the part I have to play, and where I go, you -follow me. - -Poor little circle of three loving persons, please be tremendously -brave. Don't let anything turn you into cowards--we've all got to be -worthy of each other's sacrifice; the greater the sacrifice may prove -to be for the one the greater the nobility demanded of the remainder. -How idle the words sound, and yet they will take deep meanings when -time has given them graver sanctions. I think gallant is the word I've -been trying to find--we must be gallant English women and gentlemen.... - -How far away the childish past seems--almost as though it never -happened. And was I really the budding novelist in New York? Life has -become so stern and scarlet--and so brave. From my window I look out on -the English Channel, a cold, grey-green sea, with rain driving across -it and a fleet of small craft taking shelter. Over there beyond the -curtain of mist lies France--and everything that awaits me. - -News has just come that I have to start. Will continue from France. - - Yours ever lovingly, - CON. - - -III--"HERE I AM IN FRANCE--A SOLDIER" - - France, September 1st, 1916. - - DEAREST M.: - -Here I am in France with the same strange smells and street cries, -and almost the same little boys bowling hoops over the very cobbly -cobble stones. I had afternoon tea at a patisserie and ate a great -many gateaux for the sake of old times. We had a very choppy crossing, -and you would most certainly have been sick had you been on board. It -seemed to me that I must be coming on one of those romantic holidays to -see churches and dead history--only the khaki-clad figures reminded me -that I was coming to see history in the making. It's a funny world that -batters us about so. It's three years since I was in France--the last -time was with Arthur in Provence. It's five years since you and I did -our famous trip together. - -I wish you were here--there are heaps of English nurses in the -streets. I expect to sleep in this place and proceed to my destination -to-morrow. How I wish I could send you a really descriptive letter! If -I did, I fear you would not get it--so I have to write in generalities. -None of this seems real--it's a kind of wild pretence from which I -shall awake--and when I tell you my dream you'll laugh and say, "How -absurd of you, dreaming that you were a soldier. I must say you look -like it." - - Good-bye, my dearest girl, - God bless you, - CON. - - -IV--"I HAVE SEEN MY FIRST BATTLEFIELD" - - September 19th, 1916. - DEAREST FATHER: - -I'm writing you your birthday letter early, as I don't know how busy -I may be in the next week, nor how long this may take to reach you. -You know how much love I send you and how I would like to be with you. -D'you remember the birthday three years ago when we set the victrola -going outside your room door? Those were my high-jinks days when very -many things seemed possible. I'd rather be the person I am now than the -person I was then. Life was selfish though glorious. - -Well, I've seen my first modern battlefield and am quite disillusioned -about the splendor of war. The splendor is all in the souls of the men -who creep through the squalor like vermin--it's in nothing external. -There was a chap here the other day who deserved the V. C. four times -over by running back through the Hun shell fire to bring news that the -infantry wanted more artillery support. I was observing for my brigade -in the forward station at the time. How he managed to live through the -ordeal nobody knows. But men laugh while they do these things. It's -fine. - -A modern battlefield is the abomination of abominations. Imagine a -vast stretch of dead country, pitted with shell-holes as though it had -been mutilated with smallpox. There's not a leaf or a blade of grass -in sight. Every house has either been leveled or is in ruins. No bird -sings. Nothing stirs. The only live sound is at night--the scurry -of rats. You enter a kind of ditch, called a trench; it leads on to -another and another in an unjoyful maze. From the sides feet stick -out, and arms and faces--the dead of previous encounters. "One of our -chaps," you say casually, recognizing him by his boots or khaki, or -"Poor blighter--a Hun!" One can afford to forget enmity in the presence -of the dead. It is horribly difficult sometimes to distinguish between -the living and the slaughtered--they both lie so silently in their -little kennels in the earthen bank. You push on--especially if you -are doing observation work, till you are past your own front line and -out in No Man's Land. You have to crouch and move warily now. Zing! A -bullet from a German sniper. You laugh and whisper, "A near one, that." -My first trip to the trenches was up to No Man's Land. I went in the -early dawn and came to a Madame Tussaud's show of the dead, frozen -into immobility in the most extraordinary attitudes. Some of them were -part way out of the ground, one hand pressed to the wound, the other -pointing, the head sunken and the hair plastered over the forehead -by repeated rains. I kept on wondering what my companions would look -like had they been three weeks dead. My imagination became ingeniously -and vividly morbid. When I had to step over them to pass, it seemed -as though they must clutch at my trench coat and ask me to help. Poor -lonely people, so brave and so anonymous in their death! Somewhere -there is a woman who loved each one of them and would give her life for -my opportunity to touch the poor clay that had been kind to her. It's -like walking through the day of resurrection to visit No Man's Land. -Then the Huns see you and the shrapnel begins to fall--you crouch like -a dog and run for it. - -One gets used to shell-fire up to a point, but there's not a man who -doesn't want to duck when he hears one coming. The worst of all is the -whizz-bang, because it doesn't give you a chance--it pounces and is on -you the same moment that it bangs. There's so much I wish that I could -tell you. I can only say this, at the moment we're making history. - -What a curious birthday letter! I think of all your other -birthdays--the ones before I met these silent men with the green and -yellow faces, and the blackened lips which will never speak again. -What happy times we have had as a family--what happy jaunts when you -took me in those early days, dressed in a sailor suit, when you went -hunting pictures. Yet, for all the damnability of what I now witness, -I was never quieter in my heart. To have surrendered to an imperative -self-denial brings a peace which self-seeking never brought. - -So don't let this birthday be less gay for my absence. It ought to be -the proudest in your life--proud because your example has taught each -of your sons to do the difficult things which seem right. It would have -been a condemnation of you if any one of us had been a shirker. - - "I want to buy fine things for you - And be a soldier if I can." - -The lines come back to me now. You read them to me first in the dark -little study from a green oblong book. You little thought that I would -be a soldier--even now I can hardly realize the fact. It seems a dream -from which I shall wake up. Am I really killing men day by day? Am I -really in jeopardy myself? - -Whatever happens I'm not afraid, and I'll give you reason to be glad of -me. - - Very much love, - CON. - - -V--"I AM IN THE TRENCHES--UNDER FIRE" - - November 6th, 1916. - MY DEAR ONES: - -Such a wonderful day it has been--I scarcely know where to start. I -came down last night from twenty-four hours in the mud, where I had -been observing. I'd spent the night in a hole dug in the side of the -trench and a dead Hun forming part of the roof. I'd sat there reliving -so many things--the ecstatic moments of my life when I first touched -fame--and my feet were so cold that I could not feel them, so I thought -all the harder of the pleasant things of the past. Then, as I say, I -came back to the gun position to learn that I was to have one day off -at the back of the lines. You can't imagine what that meant to me--one -day in a country that is green, one day where there is no shell-fire, -one day where you don't turn up corpses with your tread! For two months -I have never left the guns except to go forward and I have never been -from under shell-fire. All night long as I have slept the ground had -been shaken by the stamping of the guns--and now after two months, -to come back to comparative normality! The reason for this privilege -being granted was that the powers that be had come to the conclusion -that it was time I had a bath. Since I sleep in my clothes and water -is too valuable for washing anything but the face and hands, they were -probably right in their guess at my condition. - -So with the greatest holiday of my life in prospect I went to the empty -gunpit in which I sleep, and turned in. This morning I set out early -with my servant, tramping back across the long, long battlefields which -our boys have won. The mud was knee-deep in places, but we floundered -on till we came to our old and deserted gun-position where my horses -waited for me. From there I rode to the wagon-lines--the first time -I've sat a horse since I came into action. Far behind me the thunder of -winged murder grew more faint. The country became greener; trees even -had leaves upon them which fluttered against the grey-blue sky. It was -wonderful--like awaking from an appalling nightmare. My little beast -was fresh and seemed to share my joy, for she stepped out bravely. - -When I arrived at the wagon-lines I would not wait--I longed to see -something even greener and quieter. My groom packed up some oats and -away we went again. My first objective was the military baths; I lay in -hot water for half-an-hour and read the advertisements of my book. As -I lay there, for the first time since I've been out, I began to get a -half-way true perspective of myself. What's left of the egotism of the -author came to life, and--now laugh--I planned my next novel--planned -it to the sound of men singing, because they were clean for the first -time in months. I left my towels and soap with a military policeman, by -the roadside, and went prancing off along country roads in search of -the almost forgotten places where people don't kill one another. Was it -imagination? There seemed to me to be a different look in the faces of -the men I met--for the time being they were neither hunters nor hunted. -There were actually cows in the fields. At one point, where pollarded -trees stand like a Hobbema sketch against the sky, a group of officers -were coursing a hare, following a big black hound on horseback. We lost -our way. A drenching rainstorm fell over us--we didn't care; and we saw -as we looked back a most beautiful thing--a rainbow over green fields. -It was as romantic as the first rainbow in childhood. - -All day I have been seeing lovely and familiar things as though for -the first time. I've been a sort of Lazarus, rising out of his tomb -and praising God at the sound of a divine voice. You don't know how -exquisite a ploughed field can look, especially after rain, unless you -have feared that you might never see one again.... - -Life, how I love you! What a wonderful, kindly thing I could make of -you to-night. Strangely the vision has come to me of all that you -mean. Now I could write. So soon you may go from me or be changed into -a form of existence which all my training has taught me to dread. After -death is there only nothingness? I think that for those who have missed -love in this life there must be compensations--the little children whom -they ought to have had, perhaps. To-day, after so many weeks, I have -seen little children again. - -And yet, so strange a havoc does this war work that, if I have to "Go -West," I shall go _proudly_ and quietly. I have seen too many men die -bravely to make a fuss if my turn comes. A mixed passenger list old -Father Charon must have each night--Englishmen, Frenchmen, and Huns. -To-morrow I shall have another sight of the greenness and then--the -guns. - -I don't know whether I have been able to make any of my emotions clear -to you in my letters. Terror has a terrible fascination. Up to now I -have always been afraid--afraid of small fears. At last I meet fear -itself and it stings my pride into an unpremeditated courage. - -I've just had a pile of letters from you all. How ripping it is to be -remembered! Letters keep one civilized. - -It's late and I'm very tired. God bless you each and all. - - CON. - - -VI--LIVING WITH DEATH AS YOUR COMRADE - - December 20th, 1916. - DEAR MR. A. D.: - -I've just come in from an argument with Fritz when your chocolate -formed my meal. You were very kind to think of me and to send it, -and you were extraordinarily understanding in the letter that you -sent me. One's life out here is like a pollarded tree--all the lower -branches are gone--one gazes on great nobilities, on the fascinating -horror of Eternity sometimes--I said horror, but it's often fine in -its spaciousness--one gazes on many inverted splendors of Titans, -but it's giddy work being so high and rarefied, and all the gentle -past seems gone. That's why it is pleasant in this grimy anonymity of -death and courage to get reminders, such as your letter, that one was -once localized and had a familiar history. If I come back, I shall be -like Rip Van Winkle, or a Robinson Crusoe--like any and all of the -creatures of legend and history to whom abnormality has grown to seem -normal. If you can imagine yourself living in a world in which every -day is a demonstration of a Puritan's conception of what happens when -the last trump sounds, then you have some idea of my queer situation. -One has come to a point when death seems very inconsiderable and -only failure to do one's duty is an utter loss. Love and the future, -and all the sweet and tender dreams of bygone days are like a house -in which the blinds are lowered and from which the sight has gone. -Landscapes have lost their beauty, everything God-made and man-made -is destroyed except man's power to endure with a smile the things he -once most dreaded, because he believes that only so may he be righteous -in his own eyes. How one has longed for that sure confidence in the -petty failings of little living--the confidence to believe that he -can stand up and suffer for principle! God has given all men who are -out here that opportunity--the supremest that can be hoped for--so, -in spite of exile, Christmas for most of us will be a happy day. Does -one see more truly life's worth on a battlefield? I often ask myself -that question. Is the contempt that is hourly shown for life the real -standard of life's worth? I shrug my shoulders at my own unanswerable -questions--all I know is that I move daily with men who have -everything to live for who, nevertheless, are urged by an unconscious -magnanimity to die. I don't think any of our dead pity themselves--but -they would have done so if they had faltered in their choice. One lives -only from sunrise to sunrise, but there's a more real happiness in this -brief living than I ever knew before, because it is so exactingly worth -while. - - Thank you again for your kindness. - Very sincerely yours, - C. D. - - -VII--GLORY OF WAR IS IN MEN'S SOULS - - February 2d. - -The gramophone is playing an air from _La Tosca_ to which the guns beat -out a bass accompaniment. I close my eyes and picture the many times -I have heard the (probably) German orchestras of Broadway Joy Palaces -play that same music. How incongruous that I should be listening to -it here and under these circumstances! It must have been listened to -so often by gay crowds in the beauty places of the world. A romantic -picture grows up in my mind of a blue night, the laughter of youth -in evening dress, lamps twinkling through trees, far off the velvety -shadow of water and mountains, and as a voice to it all, that air -from _La Tosca_. I can believe that the silent people near by raise -themselves up in their snow-beds to listen, each one recalling some -ecstatic moment before the dream of life was shattered. - -There's a picture in the Pantheon at Paris, I remember; I believe -it's called _To Glory_. One sees all the armies of the ages charging -out of the middle distance with Death riding at their head. The only -glory that I have discovered in this war is in men's hearts--it's not -external. Were one to paint the spirit of this war he would depict a -mud landscape, blasted trees, an iron sky; wading through the slush and -shell-holes would come a file of bowed figures, more like outcasts from -the Embankment than soldiers. They're loaded down like pack animals, -their shoulders are rounded, they're wearied to death, but they go -on and go on. There's no "To Glory" about what we're doing out here; -there's no flash of swords or splendor of uniforms. There are only -very tired men determined to carry on. The war will be won by tired -men who could never again pass an insurance test, a mob of broken -counter-jumpers, ragged ex-plumbers and quite unheroic persons. We're -civilians in khaki, but because of the ideals for which we fight we've -managed to acquire soldiers' hearts. - -My flow of thought was interrupted by a burst of song in which I -was compelled to join. We're all writing letters around one candle; -suddenly the O. C. looked up and began, "God Be with You Till We Meet -Again." We sang it in parts. It was in Southport, when I was about nine -years old, that I first heard that sung. You had gone for your first -trip to America, leaving a very lonely family behind you. We children -were scared to death that you'd be drowned. One evening, coming back -from a walk on the sand-hills, we heard voices singing in a garden, -"God Be with You Till We Meet Again." The words and the soft dusk, and -the vague figures in the English summer garden, seemed to typify the -terror of all partings. We've said good-bye so often since, and God has -been with us. I don't think any parting was more hard than our last -at the prosaic dock-gates with the cold wind of duty blowing, and the -sentry barring your entrance, and your path leading back to America -while mine led on to France. But you three were regular soldiers--just -as much soldiers as we chaps who were embarking. One talks of our -armies in the field, but there are the other armies, millions strong, -of mothers and fathers and sisters, who keep their eyes dry, treasure -muddy letters beneath their pillows, offer up prayers and wait, wait, -wait so eternally for God to open another door. - -To-morrow I again go forward, which means rising early and taking a -long plod through the snows; that's one reason for not writing any -more, and another is that our one poor candle is literally on its last -legs. - -Your poem, written years ago when the poor were marching in London, is -often in my mind: - - "Yesterday and to-day - Have been heavy with labor and sorrow; - I should faint if I did not see - The day that is after to-morrow." - -And there's that last verse which prophesied utterly the spirit in -which we men at the Front are fighting to-day: - - "And for me, with spirit elate - The mire and the fog I press through, - For Heaven shines under the cloud - Of the day that is after to-morrow." - -We civilians who have been taught so long to love our enemies and do -good to them who hate us--much too long ever to make professional -soldiers--are watching with our hearts in our eyes for that day which -comes after to-morrow. Meanwhile we plod on determinedly, hoping for -the hidden glory. - - Yours very lovingly, - CON. - - -VIII--MEN MARCHING TO "CALVARY" - - February 4th, 1917. - DEAR MR. B.: - -War's a queer game--not at all what one's civilian mind imagined; it's -far more horrible and less exciting. The horrors which the civilian -mind dreads most are mutilation and death. Out here we rarely think -about them; the thing which wears on one most and calls out his gravest -courage is the endless sequence of physical discomfort. Not to be -able to wash, not to be able to sleep, to have to be wet and cold -for long periods at a stretch, to find mud on your person, in your -food, to have to stand in mud, see mud, sleep in mud and to continue -to smile--that's what tests courage. Our chaps are splendid. They're -not the hair-brained idiots that some war-correspondents depict from -day to day. They're perfectly sane people who know to a fraction what -they're up against, but who carry on with a grim good-nature and a -determination to win with a smile. I never before appreciated as I do -to-day the latent capacity for big-hearted endurance that is in the -heart of every man. Here are apparently quite ordinary chaps--chaps who -washed, liked theatres, loved kiddies and sweethearts, had a zest for -life--they're bankrupt of all pleasures except the supreme pleasure of -knowing that they're doing the ordinary and finest thing of which they -are capable. There are millions to whom the mere consciousness of doing -their duty has brought an heretofore unexperienced peace of mind. For -myself I was never happier than I am at present; there's a novel zip -added to life by the daily risks and the knowledge that at last you're -doing something into which no trace of selfishness enters. One can only -die once; the chief concern that matters is _how_ and not _when_ you -die. I don't pity the weary men who have attained eternal leisure in -the corruption of our shell-furrowed battles; they "went West" in their -supreme moment. The men I pity are those who could not hear the call of -duty and whose consciences will grow more flabby every day. With the -brutal roar of the first Prussian gun the cry came to the civilized -world, "Follow thou me," just as truly as it did in Palestine. Men -went to their Calvary singing Tipperary, rubbish, rhymed doggerel, -but their spirit was equal to that of any Christian martyr in a Roman -amphitheatre. "Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his -life for his friend." Our chaps are doing that consciously, willingly, -almost without bitterness towards their enemies; for the rest it -doesn't matter whether they sing hymns or ragtime. They've followed -their ideal--freedom--and died for it. A former age expressed itself in -Gregorian chants; ours, no less sincerely, disguises its feelings in -ragtime. - -Since September I have been less than a month out of action. The game -doesn't pall as time goes on--it fascinates. We've got to win so that -men may never again be tortured by the ingenious inquisition of modern -warfare. The winning of the war becomes a personal affair to the chaps -who are fighting. The world which sits behind the lines, buys extra -specials of the daily papers and eats three square meals a day, will -never know what this other world has endured for its safety, for no -man of this other world will have the vocabulary in which to tell. But -don't for a moment mistake me--we're grimly happy. - -What a serial I'll write for you if I emerge from this turmoil! Thank -God, my outlook is all altered. I don't want to live any longer--only -to live well. - - Good-bye and good luck. - Yours, - CONINGSBY DAWSON. - - -IX--AMERICA MUST SACRIFICE--OR DIE - - February 6th, 1917. - MY VERY DEAR M.: - -I read in to-day's paper that U. S. A. threatens to come over and -help us. I wish she would. The very thought of the possibility fills -me with joy. I've been lightheaded all day. It would be so ripping -to live among people, when the war is ended, of whom you need not be -ashamed. Somewhere deep down in my heart I've felt a sadness ever -since I've been out here, at America's lack of gallantry--it's so easy -to find excuses for not climbing to Calvary; sacrifice was always -too noble to be sensible. I would like to see the country of our -adoption become splendidly irrational even at this eleventh hour in -the game; it would redeem her in the world's eyes. She doesn't know -what she's losing. From these carcase-strewn fields of khaki there's -a cleansing wind blowing for the nations that have died. Though there -was only one Englishman left to carry on the race when this war is -victoriously ended, I would give more for the future of England than -for the future of America with her ninety millions whose sluggish -blood was not stirred by the call of duty. It's bigness of soul that -makes nations great and not population. Money, comfort, limousines and -ragtime are not the requisites of men when heroes are dying. I hate -the thought of Fifth Avenue, with its pretty faces, its fashions, its -smiling frivolity. America as a great nation will die, as all coward -civilizations have died, unless she accepts the stigmata of sacrifice, -which a divine opportunity again offers her. - -If it were but possible to show those ninety millions one battlefield -with its sprawling dead, its pity, its marvellous forgetfulness of -self, I think then--no, they wouldn't be afraid. Fear isn't the emotion -one feels--they would experience the shame of living when so many have -shed their youth freely. This war is a prolonged moment of exultation -for most of us--we are redeeming ourselves in our own eyes. To lay -down one's life for one's friend once seemed impossible. All that is -altered. We lay down our lives that the future generations may be good -and kind, and so we can contemplate oblivion with quiet eyes. Nothing -that is noblest that the Greeks taught is unpractised by the simplest -men out here to-day. They may die childless, but their example will -father the imagination of all the coming ages. These men, in the noble -indignation of a great ideal, face a worse hell than the most ingenious -of fanatics ever planned or plotted. Men die scorched like moths in a -furnace, blown to atoms, gassed, tortured. And again other men step -forward to take their places well knowing what will be their fate. -Bodies may die, but the spirit of England grows greater as each new -soul speeds upon its way. The battened souls of America will die and be -buried. I believe the decision of the next few days will prove to be -the crisis in America's nationhood. If she refuses the pain which will -save her, the cancer of self-despising will rob her of her life. - -This feeling is strong with us. It's past midnight, but I could write -of nothing else to-night. - - God bless you. - Yours ever, - CON. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[6] All numerals relate to stories herein told--not to chapters from -original sources. - - - - -STORIES OF THE WAR PHOTOGRAPHERS IN BELGIUM - -_An American at the Battlefront_ - -_Told by Albert Rhys Williams, War Correspondent_ - - This narrator tells of his experiences with the spy hunters of - Belgium. He was swept into the war-stricken country where he was - arrested by the Germans, sweating under the German third degree, - spending a fearful night on a prison floor, suffering with his - fellow prisoners the torments of a trial as a spy in a German - military court in Brussels, and finally securing his liberty. He - has collected his experiences in a volume under title "In the Claws - of the German Eagle," thus preserving in book form his remarkable - articles which were first published in The Outlook. A few episodes - from his amazing adventures are here given by permission of the - publishers, _E. P. Dutton and Company_: Copyright 1917. - -[7] I--STORY OF AN AMERICAN IN GHENT - -In the last days of September, the Belgians moving in and through Ghent -in their rainbow-colored costumes, gave to the city a distinctively -holiday touch. The clatter of cavalry hoofs and the throb of racing -motors rose above the voices of the mobs that surged along the streets. - -Service was normal in the cafes. To the accompaniment of music and -clinking glasses the dress-suited waiter served me a five-course lunch -for two francs. It was uncanny to see this blaze of life while the city -sat under the shadow of a grave disaster. At any moment the gray German -tide might break out of Brussels and pour its turbid flood of soldiers -through these very streets. Even now a Taube hovered in the sky, and -from the skirmish-line an occasional ambulance rumbled in with its -crimsoned load. - -I chanced into Gambrinus' cafe and was lost in the babbling sea of -French and Flemish. Above the melee of sounds, however, I caught a -gladdening bit of English. Turning about, I espied a little group of -men whose plain clothes stood out in contrast to the colored uniforms -of officers and soldiers crowded into the cafe. Wearied of my efforts -at conversing in a foreign tongue, I went over and said: - -"Do you really speak English?" - -"Well, rather!" answered the one who seemed to act as leader of the -group. "We are the only ones now and it will be scarcer still around -here in a few days." - -"Why?" I asked. - -"Because Ghent will be in German hands." - -This brought an emphatic denial from one of his confreres who insisted -that the Germans had already reached the end of their rope. A certain -correspondent, joining in the argument, came in for a deal of banter -for taking the war _de luxe_ in a good hotel far from the front. - -"What do you know about the war?" they twitted him. "You've pumped all -your best stories out of the refugees ten miles from the front, after -priming them with a glass of beer." - -They were a group of young war-photographers to whom danger was a -magnet. Though none of them had yet reached the age of thirty, they -had seen service in all the stirring events of Europe and even around -the globe. Where the clouds lowered and the seas tossed, there they -flocked. Like stormy petrels they rushed to the center of the swirling -world. That was their element. A freelance, a representative of the -Northcliffe press, and two movie-men comprised this little group and -made an island of English amidst the general babel. - -Like most men who have seen much of the world, they had ceased to -be cynics. When I came to them out of the rain, carrying no other -introduction than a dripping overcoat, they welcomed me into their -company and whiled away the evening with tales of the Balkan wars. - -They were in high spirits over their exploits of the previous day, when -the Germans, withdrawing from Melle on the outskirts of the city, had -left a long row of cottages still burning. As the enemy troops pulled -out the further end of the street, the movie men came in at the other -and caught the pictures of the still blazing houses. We went down to -view them on the screen. To the gentle throbbing of drums and piano, -the citizens of Ghent viewed the unique spectacle of their own suburbs -going up in smoke. - -At the end of the show they invited me to fill out their automobile -on the morrow. Nearly every other motor had been commandeered by the -authorities for the "Service Militaire" and bore on the front the -letters "S. M." Our car was by no means in the blue-ribbon class. It -had a hesitating disposition and the authorities, regarding it as more -of a liability than an asset, passed it over. - -But the correspondents counted it a great stroke of fortune to have any -car at all; and, that they might continue to have it, they kept it at -night carefully locked in a room in the hotel. They had their chauffeur -under like supervision. He was one of their kind, and with the cunning -of a diplomat obtained the permit to buy petrol, most precious of all -treasures in the field of war. Indeed, gasoline, along with courage and -discipline, completed the trinity of success in the military mind. - - -II--STORIES OF THE WAR PHOTOGRAPHERS IN BELGIUM - -With the British flag flying at the front, we sped away next morning -on the road to Termonde. At Melle we came upon the blazing cottages -we had seen pictured the night before. Here we encountered a roving -band of Belgian soldiers who were in a free and careless mood and -evinced a ready willingness to put themselves at our disposal. Under -the command of the photographers, they charged across the fields with -fixed bayonets, wriggled up through the grass, or, standing behind the -trenches, blazed away with their guns at an imaginary enemy. They did -some good acting, grim and serious as death. All except one. - -This youth couldn't suppress his sense of humor. He could not, or would -not, keep from laughing, even when he was supposed to be blowing the -head off a Boche. He was properly disciplined and put out of the game, -and we went on with our manoeuvers to the accompaniment of the clicking -cameras until the photographers had gathered in a fine lot of realistic -fighting-line pictures. - -One of the photographers sat stolidly in the automobile smoking his -cigarette while the others were reaping their harvest. - -"Why don't you take these too?" I asked. - -"Oh," he replied, "I've been sending in so much of that stuff that I -just got a telegram from my paper saying, 'Pension off that Belgian -regiment which is doing stunts in the trenches.'" - -While his little army rested from their manoeuvers the -Director-in-Chief turned to me and said: - -"Wouldn't you like to have a photograph of yourself in these -war-surroundings, just to take home as a souvenir?" - -That appealed to me. After rejecting some commonplace suggestions, he -exclaimed: "I have it. Shot as a German Spy. There's the wall to stand -up against; and we'll pick a crack firing-squad out of these Belgians. -A little bit of all right, eh?" - -I acquiesced in the plan and was led over to the wall while a movie-man -whipped out a handkerchief and tied it over my eyes. The director -then took a firing squad in hand. He had but recently witnessed -the execution of a spy where he had almost burst with a desire to -photograph the scene. It had been excruciating torture to restrain -himself. But the experience had made him feel conversant with the -etiquette of shooting a spy, as it was being done amongst the very best -firing-squads. He made it now stand him in good stead. - -"Aim right across the bandage," the director coached them. I could hear -one of the soldiers laughing excitedly as he was warming up to the -rehearsal. It occurred to me that I was reposing a lot of confidence -in a stray band of soldiers. Some one of those Belgians, gifted with a -lively imagination, might get carried away with the suggestion and act -as if I really were a German spy. - -"Shoot the blooming blighter in the eye," said one movie man playfully. - -"Bally good idea!" exclaimed the other one approvingly, while one eager -actor realistically clicked his rifle-hammer. That was altogether too -much. I tore the bandage from my eyes, exclaiming: - -"It would be a bally good idea to take those cartridges out first." -Some fellow might think his cartridge was blank or try to fire wild, -just as a joke in order to see me jump. I wasn't going to take any risk -and flatly refused to play my part until the cartridges were ejected. -Even when the bandage was readjusted "Didn't-know-it-was-loaded" -stories still were haunting me. In a moment, however, it was over and -I was promised my picture within a fortnight. - -A week later I picked up the London _Daily Mirror_ from a news-stand. -It had the caption: - - BELGIAN SOLDIERS SHOOT A GERMAN SPY CAUGHT AT - TERMONDE ... PICTURE - -I opened up the paper and what was my surprise to see a big spread -picture of myself, lined up against that row of Melle cottages and -being shot for the delectation of the British public. There is the same -long raincoat that runs as a _motif_ through all the other pictures. -Underneath it were the words: - -"The Belgians have a short, sharp method of dealing with the Kaiser's -rat-hole spies. This one was caught near Termonde and, after being -blindfolded, the firing-squad soon put an end to his inglorious career." - -One would not call it fame exactly, even though I played the star-role. -But it is a source of some satisfaction to have helped a royal lot -of fellows to a first-class scoop. As the "authentic spy-picture -of the war," it has had a broadcast circulation. I have seen it in -publications ranging all the way from _The Police Gazette to Collier's -Photographic History of the European War_. In a university club I once -chanced upon a group gathered around this identical picture. They were -discussing the psychology of this "poor devil" in the moments before -he was shot. It was a further source of satisfaction to step in and -arbitrarily contradict all their conclusions and, having shown them how -totally mistaken they were, proceed to tell them exactly how the victim -felt. This high-handed manner nettled one fellow terribly: - -"Not so arbitrary, my friend!" he said. "You haven't any right to be so -devilish cock-sure." - -"Haven't I?" I replied. "Who has any better right? I happen to be that -identical man!" - -But that little episode has been of real value to me. It is said that -if one goes through the motions he gets the emotions. I believe that I -have an inkling of how a man feels when he momentarily expects a volley -of cold lead to turn his skull into a sieve. - - -III--HOW CAMERA MEN RISK THEIR LIVES - -Most of the pictures which the public casually gazes on have been -secured at a price--and a large one, too. The names of these men who -go to the front with cameras, rather than with rifles or pens, are -generally unknown. They are rarely found beneath the pictures, yet -where would be our vivid impression of courage in daring and of skill -in doing, of cunning strategy upon the field of battle, of wounded -soldiers sacrificing for their comrades, if we had no pictures? A few -pictures are faked, but behind most pictures there is another tale of -daring and of strategy, and that is the tale concerning the man who -took it. That very day thrice these same men risked their lives. - -The apparatus loaded in the car, we were off again. Past a few -barricades of paving-stones and wagons, past the burned houses which -marked the place where the Germans had come within five miles of Ghent, -we encountered some uniformed Belgians who looked quite as dismal and -dispirited as the fog which hung above the fields. They were the famous -Guarde Civique of Belgium. Our Union Jack, flapping in the wind, was -very likely quite the most thrilling spectacle they had seen in a week, -and they hailed it with a cheer and a cry of "_Vive l'Angleterre!_" -(Long live England!) The Guarde Civique had a rather inglorious time -of it. Wearisomely in their wearisome-looking uniform, they stood -for hours on their guns or marched and counter-marched in dreary -patrolling, often doomed not even to scent the battle from afar off. - -Whenever we were called to a halt for the examination of our passports, -these men crowded around and begged for newspapers. We held up our -stock, and they would clamor for the ones with pictures. The English -text was unintelligible to most of them, but the pictures they could -understand, and they bore them away to enjoy the sight of other -soldiers fighting, even if they themselves were denied that excitement. -Our question to them was always the same, "Where are the Germans?" - -Out of the conflicting reports it was hard to tell whether the Germans -were heading this way or not. That they were expected was shown by the -sign-posts whose directions had just been obliterated by fresh paint--a -rather futile operation, because the Germans had better maps and plans -of the region than the Belgians themselves, maps which showed every -by-path, well and barn. The chauffeur's brother had been shot in his -car by the Germans but a week before, and he didn't relish the idea of -thus flaunting the enemy's flag along a road where some German scouting -party might appear at any moment. The Union Jack had done good service -in getting us easy passage so far, but the driver was not keen for -going further with it. - -It was proposed to turn the car around and back it down the road, as -had been done the previous day. Thus the car would be headed in the -home direction, and at sight of the dreaded uniform we could make a -quick leap for safety. At this juncture, however, I produced a small -Stars and Stripes, which the chauffeur hailed with delight, and we -continued our journey now under the aegis of a neutral flag. - -It might have secured temporary safety, but only temporary; for if the -Englishmen with only British passports had fallen into the hands of the -Germans, like their unfortunate kinsmen who did venture too far into -the war zone, they, too, would have had a chance to cool their ardor -in some detention-camp of Germany. This cheerful prospect was in the -mind of these men, for, when we espied coming around a distant corner -two gray-looking men on horseback, they turned white as the chauffeur -cried, "Uhlans!" - -It is a question whether the car or our hearts came to a dead -standstill first. Our shock was unnecessary. They proved to be -Belgians, and assured us that the road was clear all the way to -Termonde; and, except for an occasional peasant tilling his fields, -the countryside was quite deserted until at Grembergen we came upon -an unending procession of refugees streaming down the road. They were -all coming out of Termonde. Termonde, after being taken and retaken, -bombarded and burned, was for the moment neutral territory. A Belgian -commandant had allowed the refugees that morning to return and gather -what they might from among the ruins. - -In the early morning, then, they had gone into the city, and now -at high noon they were pouring out, a great procession of the -dispossessed. They came tracking their way to where--God only knows. -All they knew was that in their hearts was set the fear of Uhlans, and -in the sky the smoke and flames of their burning homesteads. They came -laden with their lares and penates,--mainly dogs, feather beds, and -crayon portraits of their ancestors. - - -IV--WHEN LENS HAS A HEART - -Women came carrying on their heads packs which looked like their entire -household paraphernalia. The men were more unassuming, and, as a rule, -carried a package considerably lighter and comporting more with their -superior masculine dignity. I recall one little woman in particular. -She was bearing a burden heavy enough to send a strong American athlete -staggering down to the ground, while at her side majestically marched -her faithful knight, bearing a birdcage, and there wasn't any bird in -it, either. - -Nothing could be more mirth-provoking than that sight; yet, strangely -enough, the most tear-compelling memory of the war is connected with -another birdcage. Two children rummaging through their ruined home dug -it out of the debris. In it was their little pet canary. While fire and -smoke rolled through the house it had beat its wings against the bars -in vain. Its prison had become its tomb. Its feathers were but slightly -singed, yet it was dead with that pathetic finality which attaches -itself to only a dead bird--its silver songs and flutterings, once the -delight of the children, now stilled forever. - -The photographers had long looked for what they termed a first-class -sob-picture. Here it was _par excellence_. The larger child stood -stroking the feathers of her pet and murmuring over and over "Poor -Annette," "Poor Annette!" Then the smaller one snuggling the limp -little thing against her neck wept inconsolably. - -Instead of seizing their opportunity, the movie man was clearing his -throat while the freelance was busy on what he said was a cinder in -his eye. Yet this very man had brought back from the Balkan War of -1907 a prime collection of horrors; corpses thrown into the death-cart -with arms and legs sticking out like so much stubble; the death-cart -creeping away with its ghastly load; and the dumping together of bodies -of men and beasts into a pit to be eaten by the lime. This man who had -gone through all this with good nerve was now touched to tears by two -children crying over their pet canary. There are some things that are -too much for the heart of even a war-photographer. - -To give the whole exodus the right tragic setting, one is tempted to -write that tears were streaming down all the faces of the refugees, -but on the contrary, indeed, most of them carried a smile and a pipe, -and trudged stolidly along, much as though bound for a fair. Some of -our pictures show laughing refugees. That may not be fair, for man is -so constituted that the muscles of his face automatically relax to the -click of the camera. But as I recall that pitiful procession, there was -in it very little outward expression of sorrow. - -Undoubtedly there was sadness enough in all their hearts, but people in -Europe have learned to live on short rations; they rarely indulge in -luxuries like weeping, but bear the most unwonted afflictions as though -they were the ordinary fortunes of life. War has set a new standard -for grief. So these victims passed along the road, but not before the -record of their passing was etched for ever on our moving-picture -films. The coming generation will not have to reconstruct the scene -from the colored accounts of the journalist, but with their own eyes -they can see the hegira of the homeless as it really was. - -The resignation of the peasant in the face of the great calamity was a -continual source of amazement to us. Zola in "_Le Debacle_" puts into -his picture of the battle of Sedan an old peasant plowing on his farm -in the valley. While shells go screaming overhead he placidly drives -his old white horse through the accustomed furrows. One naturally -presumed that this was a dramatic touch of the great novelist. But -similar incidents we saw in this Great War over and over again. - - -V--A THOUSAND HORSES STRAIN AT THEIR BRIDLES - -We were with Consul van Hee one morning early before the clinging veil -of sleep had lifted from our spirits or the mists from the low-lying -meadows. Without warning our car shot through a bank of fog into a -spectacle of mediaeval splendor--a veritable Field of the Cloth of Gold, -spread out on the green plains of Flanders. - -A thousand horses strained at their bridles while their thousand -riders in great fur busbies loomed up almost like giants. A thousand -pennons stirred in the morning air while the sun burning through the -mists glinted on the tips of as many lances. The crack Belgian cavalry -divisions had been gathered here just behind the firing-lines in -readiness for a sortie; the Lancers in their cherry and green and the -Guides in their blue and gold making a blaze of color. - -It was as if in a trance we had been carried back to a tourney of -ancient chivalry--this was before privations and the new drab uniforms -had taken all glamor out of the war. As we gazed upon the glittering -spectacle the order from the commander came to us: - -"Back, back out of danger!" - -"Forward!" was the charge to the Lancers. - -The field-guns rumbled into line and each rider unslung his carbine. -Putting spurs to the horses, the whole line rode past saluting our -Stars and Stripes with a "_Vive L'Amerique_." Bringing up the rear two -cassocked priests served to give this pageantry a touch of prophetic -grimness. - -And yet as the cavalcade swept across the fields thrilling us with its -color and its action, the nearby peasants went on spreading fertilizer -quite as calm and unconcerned as we were exhilarated. - -"Stupid," "Clods," "Souls of oxen," we commented, yet a protagonist of -the peasant might point out that it was perhaps as noble and certainly -quite as useful to be held by a passion for the soil as to be caught by -the glamor of men riding out to slaughter. And Zola puts this in the -mind of his peasants. - -"Why should I lose a day? Soldiers must fight, but folks must live. It -is for me to keep the corn growing." - -Deep down into the soil the peasant strikes his roots. Urban people can -never comprehend when these roots are cut away how hopelessly lost and -adrift this European peasant in particular becomes. Wicked as the Great -War has seemed to us in its bearing down upon these innocent folks, yet -we can never understand the cruelty that they have suffered in being -uprooted from the land and sent forth to become beggars and wanderers -upon the highroads of the world. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[7] All numerals relate to stories herein told--not to chapters from -original sources. - - - - -TALES OF THE FIRST BRITISH EXPEDITIONARY FORCE TO FRANCE - -_Impressions of a Subaltern_ - -_Told by "Casualty" (Name of Soldier Suppressed)_ - - This is another of the soldiers' tales of the Great War. This - soldier tells thirty-six fascinating experiences in which death is - defied. He describes: "The Advance to Mons"; "Sir John French"; - "The Crossing of the Marne"; "The Crossing of the Aisne"; "The Jaws - of Death," among his many adventures. The story here told gives his - impressions on "Leaving England." It is reprinted from his volume - "Contemptible," by permission of his publishers, _J. B. Lippincott - Company_. - -[8] I--WHEN THE FIRST BATTALION SWUNG OUT - -No cheers, no handkerchiefs, no bands. Nothing that even suggested -the time-honored scene of soldiers leaving home to fight the Empire's -battles. Parade was at midnight. Except for the lighted windows of the -barracks, and the rush of hurrying feet, all was dark and quiet. It was -more like ordinary night operations than the dramatic departure of a -Unit of the First British Expeditionary Force to France. - -As the Battalion swung into the road, the Subaltern could not help -thinking that this was indeed a queer send-off. A few sergeants' wives, -standing at the corner of the Parade ground, were saying good-bye to -their friends as they passed. "Good-bye, Bill;" "Good luck, Sam!" Not a -hint of emotion in their voices. One might have thought that husbands -and fathers went away to risk their lives in war every day of the week. -And if the men were at all moved at leaving what had served for their -home, they hid it remarkably well. Songs were soon breaking out from -all parts of the column of route. - - * * * * * - -In an hour the station was reached. An engine was shunting up and down, -piecing the troop trains together, and in twenty minutes the Battalion -was shuffling down the platform, the empty trains on either side. -Two companies were to go to each train, twelve men to a third-class -compartment, N.C.O.s second class, Officers first. As soon as the men -were in their seats, the Subaltern made his way to the seat he had -"bagged," and prepared to go to sleep. Another fellow pushed his head -through the window and wondered what had become of the regimental -transport. Somebody else said he didn't know or care; his valise was -always lost, he said; they always make a point of it. - -Soon after, they were all asleep, and the train pulled slowly out of -the station. - -When the Subaltern awoke it was early morning, and they were moving -through Hampshire fields at a rather sober pace. He was assailed with -a poignant feeling of annoyance and resentment that this war should -be forced upon them. England looked so good in the morning sunshine, -and the comforts of English civilization were so hard to leave. The -sinister uncertainty of the Future brooded over them like a thunder -cloud. - -Isolated houses thickened into clusters, streets sprang up, and soon -they were in Southampton. - -The train pulled up at the Embarkation Station, quite close to the -wharf to which some half-dozen steamers were moored. There was little -or no delay. The Battalion fell straight into "massed formation," and -began immediately to move on to one of the ships. The Colonel stood -by the gangway talking to an Embarkation Officer. Everything was in -perfect readiness, and the Subaltern was soon able to secure a berth. - - -II--CROSSING THE CHANNEL ON TRANSPORTS - -There was plenty of excitement on deck while the horses of the -regimental transport were being shipped into the hold. - -To induce "Light Draft," "Heavy Draft" horses and "Officers' -Chargers"--in all some sixty animals--to trust themselves to be lowered -into a dark and evil-smelling cavern, was no easy matter. Some shied -from the gangway, neighing; others walked peaceably onto it, and, -with a "thus far and no farther" expression in every line of their -bodies, took up a firm stand, and had to be pushed into the hold with -the combined weight of many men. Several of the transport section -narrowly escaped death and mutilation at the hands, or rather hoofs, -of the Officers' Chargers. Meanwhile a sentry, with fixed bayonet, -was observed watching some Lascars, who were engaged in getting the -transport on board. It appeared that the wretched fellows, thinking -that they were to be taken to France and forced to fight the Germans, -had deserted to a man on the previous night, and had had to be routed -out of their hiding-places in Southampton. - -Not that such a small thing as that could upset for one moment the -steady progress of the Embarkation of the Army. It was like a huge, -slow-moving machine; there was a hint of the inexorable in its -exactitude. Nothing had been forgotten--not even eggs for the Officers' -breakfast in the Captain's cabin. - -Meanwhile the other ships were filling up. By midday they began to -slide down the Solent, and guesses were being freely exchanged about -the destination of the little flotilla. Some said Bolougne, others -Calais; but the general opinion was Havre, though nobody knew for -certain, for the Captain of the ship had not yet opened his sealed -orders. The transports crept slowly along the coast of the Isle of -Wight, but it was not until evening that the business of crossing the -Channel was begun in earnest. - -The day had been lovely, and Officers and men had spent it mostly in -sleeping and smoking upon the deck. Spirits had risen as the day grew -older. For at dawn the cheeriest optimist is a pessimist, while at -midday pessimists become optimists. In the early morning the German -Army had been invincible. At lunch the Battalion was going to Berlin, -on the biggest holiday of its long life! - -The Subaltern, still suffering from the after-effects of inoculation -against enteric, which had been unfortunately augmented by a premature -indulgence in fruit, and by the inability to rest during the rush of -mobilization, did not spend a very happy night. The men fared even -worse, for the smell of hot, cramped horses, steaming up from the lower -deck, was almost unbearable. But their troubles were soon over, for by -seven o'clock the boat was gliding through the crowded docks of Havre. - -Naturally most of the Mess had been in France before, but to Tommy it -was a world undiscovered. The first impression made on the men was -created by a huge negro working on the docks. He was greeted with roars -of laughter, and cries of, "Hallo, Jack Johnson!" The red trousers of -the French sentries, too, created a tremendous sensation. At length the -right landing-stage was reached. Equipments were thrown on, and the -Battalion was paraded on the dock. - - -III--LANDING IN FRANCE--TOMMIES IN HAVRE - -The march through the cobbled streets of Havre rapidly developed into -a fiasco. This was one of the first, if not the very first, landing of -British Troops in France, and to the French it was a novelty, calling -for a tremendous display of open-armed welcome. Children rushed from -the houses, and fell upon the men crying for "souvenirs." Ladies -pursued them with basins full of wine and what they were pleased to -call beer. Men were literally carried from the ranks, under the eyes -of their Officers, and borne in triumph into houses and inns. What -with the heat of the day and the heaviness of the equipment and the -after-effects of the noisome deck, the men could scarcely be blamed for -availing themselves of such hospitality, though to drink intoxicants on -the march is suicidal. Men "fell out," first by ones and twos, then by -whole half-dozens and dozens. The Subaltern himself was scarcely strong -enough to stagger up the long hills at the back of the town, let alone -worrying about his men. The Colonel was aghast, and very furious. He -couldn't understand it. (He was riding.) - -The camp was prepared for the troops in a wonderfully complete -fashion--not the least thing seemed to have been forgotten. The men, -stripped of their boots, coats and equipments, were resting in the -shade of the tents. A caterer from Havre had come up to supply the -Mess, and the Subaltern was able to procure from him a bottle of rather -heady claret, which, as he was thirsty and exhausted, he consumed too -rapidly, and found himself hopelessly inebriate. Luckily there was -nothing to do, so he slept for many hours. - -Waking up in the cool of the evening he heard the voices of another -Second-Lieutenant and a reservist Subaltern talking about some people -he knew near his home. It was good to forget about wars and soldiers, -and everything that filled so amply the present and future, and to lose -himself in pleasant talk of pleasant things at home.... The dinner -provided by the French caterer was very French, and altogether the -last sort of meal that a young gentleman suffering from anti-enteric -inoculation ought to have indulged in. Everything conspired to make him -worse, and what with the heat and the malady, he spent a very miserable -time. - -After about two days' stay, the Battalion moved away from the rest -camp, and, setting out before dawn, marched back through those fatal -streets of Havre, this time deserted in the moonlight, to a sort of -shed, called by the French authorities a troop station. Here as usual -the train was waiting, and the men had but to be put in. The carriages -could not be called luxurious; to be frank, they were cattle-trucks. -But it takes more than that to damp the spirits of Mr. Thomas Atkins. -Cries imitating the lowing of cattle and the bleating of sheep broke -out from the trucks! - -The train moved out of the depot, and wended its way in the most -casual manner through the streets of Havre. This so amused Tommy that -he roared with laughter. The people who rushed to give the train -a send-off, with many cries of "_Vive les Anglais_." "_A bas les -Bosches_," were greeted with more bleatings and brayings. - - -IV--QUARTERED IN A BELGIAN WATER-MILL - -The journey through France was quite uneventful. Sleeping or reading -the whole day through, the Subaltern only remembered Rouen, passed at -about midday, and Amiens later in the evening. The train had paused at -numerous villages on its way, and in every case there had been violent -demonstrations of enthusiasm. In one case a young lady of prepossessing -appearance had thrust her face through the window, and talked very -excitedly and quite incomprehensibly, until one of the fellows in the -carriage grasped the situation, leant forward, and did honor to the -occasion. The damsel retired blushing. - -At Amiens various rumors were afloat. Somebody had heard the Colonel -say the magic word "Liege." Pictures of battles to be fought that very -night thrilled some of them not a little. - - * * * * * - -Dawn found the Battalion hungry, shivering and miserable, paraded by -the side of the track, at a little wayside station called Wassigne. The -train shunted away, leaving the Battalion with a positive feeling of -desolation. A Staff Officer, rubbing sleep from his eyes, emerged from -a little "estaminet" and gave the Colonel the necessary orders. During -the march that ensued the Battalion passed through villages where the -three other regiments in the Brigade were billeted. At length a village -called Iron was reached, and their various billets were allotted to -each Company. - -The Subaltern's Company settled down in a huge water-mill; its Officers -being quartered in the miller's private house. - -A wash, a shave and a meal worked wonders. - -And so the journey was finished, and the Battalion found itself at -length in the theater of operations. - - * * * * * - -I have tried in this chapter to give some idea of the ease and -smoothness with which this delicate operation of transportation was -carried out. The Battalions which composed the First Expeditionary -Force had been spread in small groups over the whole length and breadth -of Britain. They had been mobilized, embarked, piloted across the -Channel in the face of an undefeated enemy fleet, rested, and trained -to their various areas of concentration, to take their place by the -side of their French Allies. - -All this was accomplished without a single hitch, and with a speed -that was astonishing. When the time comes for the inner history of -the war to be written, no doubt proper praise for these preliminary -arrangements will be given to those who so eminently deserve it. - - -V--AT MADAM MERE'S--BEFORE THE STORM - -Peace reigned for the next five days, the last taste of careless days -that so many of those poor fellows were to have. - -A route march generally occupied the mornings, and a musketry parade -the evenings. Meanwhile, the men were rapidly accustoming themselves to -the new conditions. The Officers occupied themselves with polishing up -their French, and getting a hold upon the reservists who had joined the -Battalion on mobilization. - -The French did everything in their power to make the Battalion at home. -Cider was given to the men in buckets. The Officers were treated like -the best friends of the families with whom they were billeted. The -fatted calf was not spared, and this in a land where there were not too -many fatted calves. - -The Company "struck a particularly soft spot." The miller had gone -to the war leaving behind him his wife, his mother and two children. -Nothing they could do for the five Officers of the Company was too much -trouble. Madame Mere resigned her bedroom to the Major and his second -in command, while Madame herself slew the fattest of her chickens and -rabbits for the meals of her hungry Officers. - -The talk that was indulged in must have been interesting, even though -the French was halting and ungrammatical. Of all the companies' Messes, -this one took the most serious view of the future, and earned for -itself the nickname of "_Les Miserables_." The Senior Subaltern said -openly that this calm preceded a storm. The papers they got--_Le Petit -Parisien_ and such like--talked vaguely of a successful offensive -on the extreme right: Muelhouse, it was said, had been taken. But of -the left, of Belgium, there was silence. Such ideas as the Subaltern -himself had on the strategical situation were but crude. The line of -battle, he fancied, would stretch north and south, from Muelhouse to -Liege. If it were true that Liege had fallen, he thought the left would -rest successfully on Namur. The English Army, he imagined, was acting -as "general reserve," behind the French line, and would not be employed -until the time had arrived to hurl the last reserve into the melee, at -the most critical point. - -And all the while, never a sound of firing, never a sight of the red -and blue of the French uniforms. The war might have been two hundred -miles away! - -Meanwhile Tommy on his marches was discovering things. Wonder of -wonders, this curious people called "baccy" tabac! "And if yer wants a -bit of bread yer awsks for pain, strewth!" He loved to hear the French -gabble to him in their excited way; he never thought that reciprocally -his talk was just as funny. The French matches earned unprintable -names. But on the whole he admired sunny France with its squares of -golden corn and vegetables, and when he passed a painted Crucifix with -its cluster of flowering graves, he would say: "Golly, Bill, ain't it -pretty? We oughter 'ave them at 'ome, yer know." And of course he kept -on saying what he was going to do with "Kayser Bill." - -One night after the evening meal, the men of the Company gave a little -concert outside the mill. The flower-scented twilight was fragrantly -beautiful, and the mill stream gurgled a lullaby accompaniment as it -swept past the trailing grass. Nor was there any lack of talent. One -reservist, a miner since he had left the army, roared out several songs -concerning the feminine element at the seaside, or voicing an inquiry -as to a gentleman's companion on the previous night. Then, with an -entire lack of appropriateness, another got up and recited "The Wreck -of the _Titanic_" in a most touching and dramatic manner. Followed a -song with a much appreciated chorus-- - - "Though your heart may ache awhile, - Never mind! - Though your face may lose its smile, - Never mind! - For there's sunshine after rain, - And then gladness follows pain, - You'll be happy once again, - Never mind!" - -The ditty deals with broken vows, and faithless hearts, and blighted -lives; just the sort of song that Tommy loves to warble after a good -meal in the evening. It conjured to the Subaltern's eyes the picture of -the dainty little star who had sung it on the boards of the Coliseum. -And to conclude, Madame's voice, French, and sonorously metallic, -was heard in the dining-room striking up the "_Marseillaise_." Tommy -did not know a word of it, but he yelled "March on" (a very good -translation of "_Marchons_") and sang "lar lar" to the rest of the tune. - -Thus passed peacefully enough those five days--the calm before the -storm. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[8] All numerals relate to stories herein told--not to chapters from -original sources. - - - - -IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY--EXPERIENCES OF A PRISONER OF WAR - -_Told by Benjamin G. O'Rorke, M. A., Chaplain to the Forces_ - - This narrative reveals the actual scenes and experiences in a - German prison where this British chaplain was incarcerated. He - dedicates it "To my fellow prisoners, who already during twelve - months have borne disappointment with patient resignation and - insults with silent dignity: who have made the name of Britain - respected in the heart of Germany." Nearly the whole of the diary - on which this narrative is based was confiscated by the Germans - when the writer was searched for the last time before his release. - It was restored to him by post a few weeks later, bearing the mark - showing that it had been passed by the censor. The diary has been - published complete by _Longmans, Green and Company_, with whose - permission the following interesting extracts are given. - -[9] I--STORY OF THE CONSECRATED SWORDS - -On Saturday, August 15, 1914, we entrained, whither we knew not. The -railway officials either did not know or would not tell, but we were -not long before we discovered that our destination was Southampton. - -Here we spent a wearisome afternoon and evening at the docks, embarking -horses and wagons on board our transport, a cattle-boat named -_Armenian_, which has since been sunk by the Germans. With us embarked -contingents of the 18th Hussars and 9th Lancers. It was a calm journey, -and there were no signs of sea-sickness. Pipes and cigarettes were -freely smoked, a good sign on the first day of a voyage. Once more our -destination was kept a profound secret, even from the captain, until we -got well out to sea. It being Sunday, we had a service on board, which -gave me a golden opportunity of addressing my flock for the first time. -Speaking on the text, "Whoso feareth the Lord shall not be afraid, and -shall not play the coward," Eccl. xxiv. 14 (R.V.), I reminded them that -we were setting out to take our part in the greatest war in history. - -After the service on deck, a number of officers and men, after the -example of the knights of old who consecrated their swords at the -altar, partook of the Holy Communion in the saloon. - -In the course of the afternoon we sighted the beautiful harbor of -Boulogne, where we landed. "'Eep, 'eep, 'ooray!" called out the crowds -of French people who lined the pier and landing-stage to give us a -hearty welcome as their allies. From the first moment we were made to -feel at home in France, and careful arrangements had been undertaken -for our comfort. To every regiment a Frenchman was appointed as -interpreter, many of whom were educated men of good standing.... - -Strolling through the town, I passed the barracks where the Argyll -and Sutherland Highlanders were quartered. True to their national -characteristic that "a Scotsman is never at home unless he is abroad," -they appeared to have been at Boulogne for years, and already to be on -intimate terms with the townsfolk. On the steps of the Post-Office was -a bareheaded woman in the act of posting a letter to her son at the -front. She spoke to me about him very tenderly, and it was obvious that -all sorts of good wishes and prayers were dropped into the letterbox -with her letter.... - -Flags were in evidence everywhere. Men wore in their buttonholes the -colors of France, Belgium, and England intertwined, and women pinned -them to their dresses. Little children followed the soldiers about, -crying, "Souvenir, souvenir!" and pointed to their regimental badges. -After a while it was a rare sight to meet a soldier with a badge, or a -French woman or child without one. The sole distinguishing mark between -one regiment and another was the design of the badge on cap and the -initials of the regiment on shoulder-strap drawn in indelible pencil. - -The next morning the march through the town to the station was little -short of a triumphal procession. The most popular figure amongst us -was a diminutive soldier boy of the R.A.M.C., Trumpeter Berry. Some of -the French women were with difficulty restrained from rushing out to -kiss him. The crowd around the station as we left, pressing against the -railings beyond which they were not permitted to go, gave us a send-off -as enthusiastic as the welcome had been. Keepsakes, charms, blessings, -and prayers were bestowed upon us generously. "_Vive la France!_" we -shouted from the railway carriage, and we heard, dying away in the -distance, the hearty response, "_Vive l'Angleterre!_" - - * * * * * - -The Belgians in the villages through which we passed had already begun -to flee into France for protection. A long line of refugees marched -with us, carrying such of their worldly goods as they could snatch up -at the last moment. There were white-haired old men being wheeled along -in barrows, cripples limping as fast as they could go, hatless women -with a heavy bundle in one arm and an infant in the other, and by their -side were two or three little toddlers wondering what it was all about. -Behind were the homes with all their associations of the past and with -the last meal, perhaps, still on the table untouched, so suddenly -had the warning come. When would they see those homes again? If ever, -probably as a heap of ruins. And in front, whither should they go?... - -Along the road they would have constant reminders that there was One -above who knew all about it, and would not leave them comfortless. For -at irregular intervals by the roadside in Belgium and France there are -"Calvaries," little sanctuaries containing a figure of the Crucified -One, seeming to whisper to all who pass by, "I have trodden this path -before you." - - -II--WITH THE DYING SOLDIERS AT LANDRECIES - -The sun was well up before we set out on Tuesday, August 25. Southwards -again our direction lay: a strategic retirement, we were told. Early in -the evening we reached Landrecies. Hardly had we passed the outskirts -of the town before a scare arose. Civilians came tearing out of -Landrecies. Motor cars and carts rushed past us at breakneck speed. -The cry went up, "_Les Allemands!_" ("The Germans!") A certain peasant -who for the moment had lost control of himself whipped the horse which -he was driving into a gallop, deaf to the heartrending call of some -children who ran in panic after him begging him to give them a lift. -Out rushed a footsore guardsman from one of the ambulance wagons, -placed a rifle at his head, and compelled him to stop and pick them -up.... - -At about 8 P.M. we heard the rat-a-tat-tat of machine guns and the boom -of field artillery. The men of the Royal Army Medical Corps meanwhile -awaited the summons that did not come. The rain came down in torrents, -and they lay down wherever they could find a sheltered spot. Sleep for -most of us was impossible. The din of battle was terrific.... - -I went at once in search of the Hon. Rupert Keppel and handed to him -Major Matheson's note. He was in an upstairs room with five or six -wounded men. He was lying on a bed with a bandage round his forehead, -but made light of the wounds which he had received. After a few words -and a short prayer at each bedside, I made inquiries for Lord Hawarden. -I was told that he was already dead, but I found him in a little room -by himself, still breathing although apparently unconscious. He had -lost his left arm, and a portion of his back had been shot away. I -knelt down beside him and commended him to God, saying in the form of -a prayer as from myself the hymn "Abide with Me." As I rose from my -knees he opened his eyes and smiled. He had been asleep merely, and now -began to speak with quite a strong voice. Not a word did he say about -himself, or his sufferings. He talked about the battle, about his old -home near Bordon, which was within a couple of miles of my own home and -formed a happy link between us, and about his mother.... - -The other poor patients were terribly knocked about. Limbs in some -cases had been entirely blown off by shells. Lyddite had turned many -complexions to a jaundiced yellow. And yet every man was calm and -resigned, and proud to have had a share in the fight.... A kindly -French priest was going from bed to bed saying comforting words in -French. Probably not one of the patients understood his words, but they -all understood and appreciated his meaning. - -Meanwhile the Germans began to appear on the canal bridge near the -hospital. Major Collingwood went out to meet them, and they entered -the hospital with him. The officer in charge of them, Herr Ruttner -of Berlin, shook hands with me and said that my work would not be -interfered with, and that I had his permission to go anywhere over the -scene of battle in search of the killed, and that I might bury them -where most convenient. He said he was personally acquainted with Sir -Douglas Haig, who with Sir John French had actually been in Landrecies -the previous afternoon. He seemed disappointed not to find Sir Douglas -there still, and desired to be remembered to him. By his orders the -hospital was examined and all arms and ammunition were removed. A -sentry was then placed at the gate. - - * * * * * - -In the early morning of the next day, Thursday, August 27, the gallant -young Lord Hawarden died. The medical officer who looked after him said -that he had never met a braver patient. A party of twelve men, under -the command of Lieut. Hattersley, went with me to lay him to rest, -together with the two officers and men whose bodies had been placed in -the compound of the hospital. We selected the best spot in the pretty -little cemetery of Landrecies. - - -III--ON A PRISON TRAIN--GOING TO GERMANY - -We remained in Landrecies until Saturday, August 29, expecting daily -to be returned to our own people in accordance with the terms of the -Geneva Convention. Our destination, however, was fated to be in the -opposite direction. Under an escort of half a dozen German soldiers, -commanded by an under-officer, we marched out of the town, up the hill -where the battle had taken place, to Bavay. It was a tiring journey for -the wounded men lying in ambulance wagons. The Hon. R. Keppel was the -only wounded officer. He traveled in a wagon with certain men of his -regiment, with whom he appeared to be on exceedingly friendly terms. -Two of the occupants of that wagon had lost an arm each, and they were -the cheeriest of our party. - -It was dark when we reached Bavay, and everyone was tired out. The -journey seemed to be quite twenty miles. The first thing we did was -to see the wounded safely into the hospital, which was a young men's -college. M. L'Abbe J. Lebrun, the Superior, and his colleague were at -the door to welcome us. I was at once taken into the English ward, and -arrived just in time to commend the soul of a dying man, a private -of the 12th Lancers. His officer--though wounded--had got out of bed -to see the last of him, and besought me as I entered to visit his -dying comrade without delay. His anxiety on his friend's behalf was a -touching sight. - -On the morrow, Sunday, August 30, I held a service, at the request of -the patients, in the English ward. I spoke on "Be of good cheer," or, -as we had so often heard it put by our French friends along the road, -"_Bon courage_."... - -At the funeral of the 12th Lancer that afternoon we had an imposing -procession. The body was laid on a stretcher covered over with a Union -Jack and the French national flag. I led the way before the coffin, -robed in a cassock and surplice which had been presented to me by a -French priest to replace my own lost robes. After the coffin came the -three R.C. priests of the town and a number of the French Red Cross -nurses; then Major Collingwood and the men of the 4th Field Ambulance. -One of the nurses, noticing that I had no stole, on returning from the -funeral made me one of black material with three white crosses, and -presented it within a couple of hours. - -The next day we were marched under escort to Mons. This is a large, -well-built town of about 35,000 inhabitants. We were paraded through -the cobbled streets to the barracks, then (evidently by a mistake) to -the station, and finally back again to the barracks, where, in some -dirty rooms over a filthy stable, we spent the night. Here we met the -Hon. Ivan Hay, of the 5th Lancers, who had narrowly escaped being shot -after his capture by the Germans, but he was not allowed to accompany -our party. The following morning we were marched once more to the -station, and were bundled into the station-master's office, which was -littered with looted papers. The men meanwhile were herded in a shed. -A sentry was posted at the entrance of the station to prevent anyone -going to the town. Just outside the station were the ambulance wagons -and our servants. Whyman, my soldier-servant, was amongst them with my -horse. That was the last I saw of either of them. I parted from them -with a very sad heart. - -During the afternoon an ill-mannered under-officer bade us hand over -knives, razors, and sticks. At 6 P.M. we were entrained with about -1,000 wounded, of whom some forty or fifty were ours, the rest being -Germans. The train must have been a quarter of a mile long. In the -middle of the night we passed through Brussels, and in the early -morning through Louvain and Liege. Louvain seemed to be a heap of -ruins; hardly a house visible from the station was intact.... We looked -with great interest upon Liege as we passed through it, and recalled -the gallant defence of the town by the Belgians. A few more miles -brought us over the border into Germany. - -At Aachen a hostile demonstration took place at our expense. There -happened to be a German troop train in the station at the time. A -soldier of our escort displayed a specimen of the British soldier's -knife, holding it up with the marline-spike open, and declared that -this was the deadly instrument which British medical officers had -been using to gouge out the eyes of the wounded Germans who had fallen -into their vindictive hands! From the knife he pointed to the medical -officers sitting placidly in the train, as much as to say, "And these -are some of the culprits." This was too much for the German soldiers. -They strained like bloodhounds on the leash. "Out with them!" said -their irate colonel, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder to -the carriages in which these bloodthirsty British officers sat. The -colonel, however, did not wait to see his behest carried out, and a -very gentlemanly German subaltern quietly urged his men to get back to -their train and leave us alone. The only daggers that pierced us were -the eyes of a couple of priests, a few women and boys, who appeared to -be shocked beyond words that even a clergyman was amongst such wicked -men. The enormity of the crimes which had necessitated my capture I -could only conjecture from their looks. - -At Duesseldorf we crossed the Rhine--a beautiful sight. At Essen I was -permitted to visit one of our wounded men who was dying of tetanus. The -unfortunate patients lay in rows on the floor of luggage vans, with -straw beneath them. When the train stopped at a station the doors of -these vans were sometimes flung open in order that the crowd might have -a look at them.... - -Even the Red Cross ladies at the stations steeled their hearts against -us, giving us not so much as a cup of coffee or a piece of bread. But -for the haversack rations and chocolate, which most of us carried with -us, we should have fared badly. Now, however, we were to receive our -first meal from our captors. This consisted of a plate of hot soup -and a slice of bread and butter, which we ate ravenously. Two kind -ladies brought us this food, and we were duly grateful. One of them -was standing near me as we ate the meal, and I thanked her cordially -in English. She paid no attention, so I asked her if she understood -English. "I do, but I don't mean to," was her laconic reply, which -seemed highly to amuse my companions.... - -At length, on Friday morning, the journey came to an end on our -arrival at Torgau. We were ordered out of the train and drawn up on -the platform in fours. Each officer carried what articles of clothing -he possessed. Several of them had preserved their medical panniers, -and, heavy as these were, they had to be carried or left behind. On -either side of us a German guard with fixed bayonets was drawn up, -and then was given the word, "Quick march!" With our bundle on our -shoulder, there was no man could be bolder, yet this same bundle and -the burning sun prevented there being anything "quick" about our march. -The townsfolk evidently had heard that we were coming, and they were at -the station gate in scores to show us how pleased they were to welcome -us to their town. In fact, they told us quite freely what they thought -of us and the nation which we represented. They walked beside us every -inch of the way, keeping up our spirits by telling us the particular -kind of _Schweinhunds_ they believed the _Englaender_ to be. Not until -they had crossed the massive bridge which spans the Elbe and reached -the Brueckenkopf fortress did they turn back home, and the doors of the -fortress closed behind us. - - -IV--STORY OF PRISON LIFE AT TORGAU - -Passing over the moat through two iron doors, we enter a courtyard, -about 100 yards long by 40 broad. Facing the gateway is a semi-circular -building two stories high, with an entrance at either end and one in -the centre. A turret with windows and battlements surmounts each -entrance; and from the central turret rises a flag-pole.... - -The commandant was a Prussian reservist officer with a long heavy -moustache. We were told that he was courteous and considerate in every -respect, and that, provided we took care to salute him whenever we -passed him, we should find him everything we could reasonably wish. - -Supper was at 6 P.M. The same plate did duty for both courses, soup and -meat, the more fastidious taking it under the pump in the interval. -When the meal was over the junior members of the messes did the washing -up. After supper we walked a mile, as the old adage recommends. We soon -knew to a nicety how many turns round the court made up this distance, -and some active spirits improved on the advice by walking several -miles. At 8.30 a bugle sounded, and everyone had to retire to his room; -at 9 sounded "lights out." - -That first night was memorable for the little occupants which we found -already in possession of our beds. Just when we hoped we had finished -our labours for the day these little bedfellows began theirs. The more -we wanted to sleep, the more wakeful they became. Scratching, tossing, -and--it must be owned--a little mild swearing could be heard, where -snoring would have been much more tolerable.... - -At 6 A.M. reveille sounded, and before it was finished Major Yate was -up and out of bed. I followed his example, and then the two of us began -a practice which we kept up while the warm weather lasted, namely, a -cold bath under the pump in the solitude of the courtyard. - -Poor Major Yate! He attempted to escape ten days later, and lost his -life in so doing. One of the sentries affirmed that he shot him as he -made his way through the barbed wire, and that the Major fled wounded -into the river, from which he never came forth alive.... He has since -been awarded posthumously the Victoria Cross for his gallantry in the -campaign. - - * * * * * - -We selected as our chapel the passage over the entrance at one end -of the building. There was an inspiring atmosphere about that first -service. Our altar was a dormitory table, our altar linen a couple of -white handkerchiefs, our chalice a twopenny wine-glass (the best we -could procure), our paten an ordinary dinner-plate. Pews, of course, -there were none, and as for books, we were fortunate enough to have -one, a hymn-book, prayer-book, and Bible bound together in a single -volume, which I was carrying in my haversack at the time we were -captured. The pew difficulty was overcome by each officer bringing his -stool. The lack of books made no difference to the heartiness of the -service, for the hymns and chants were familiar to most of us from -childhood. The mighty volume of sound that went up that morning in -hymns of thankfulness and praise was a never-to-be-forgotten sensation -to those who heard it or joined in it. The place whereon we stood was -holy ground, and it was good for us to be there.... - -As time went on, our numbers increased to about 230 British officers, -and 800 French officers joined us from Maubeuge, including four -generals. One of the latter had been interned in Torgau before, in the -1870 war, and had made good his escape. The authorities guarded against -the recurrence of such an eventuality on the present occasion, their -most elaborate precaution being the enlistment of dogs to reinforce -the sentries. Their barkings could be heard occasionally by night, but -their presence disturbed neither our repose nor our equanimity.... - -During the last two months of our stay at Torgau I occupied a small -room in the centre of the building with Major (now Lieut.-Col.) A. G. -Thompson, Major W. H. Long, and Captain P. C. T. Davy, of the R.A.M.C., -as companions. Like the Hindus, we divided ourselves into exclusive -castes, as far as the necessary duties in connection with the room were -concerned. The Colonel (as we may call him by anticipation) lit the -stove, the Major washed the cups and saucers, the Captain swept the -floor, and I, with the assistance of a member of our mess, brought in -the coal. - -We often dreamt and spoke of the day when we should march out of -Torgau. There were two destinations only which came within the range -of our contemplation--one was Berlin, and the other was England. -Meanwhile, however, there was a place of four short letters which was -to be our home for six long months. - -(The chaplain continues to relate his experiences in this German prison -with many interesting anecdotes. He tells about the prison occupations, -how they spent their time in work and recreation, and describes his -parole and visits to several internment camps.) - -FOOTNOTE: - -[9] All numerals relate to stories herein told--not to chapters from -original sources. - - - - -"AT SUVLA BAY"--THE WAR AGAINST THE TURKS - -_Adventures on the Blue Aegean Shores_ - -_Told by John Hargrave, the Famous Scoutmaster in the Mediterranean -Expeditionary Forces_ - - John Hargrave is known throughout England as "White Fox," the - famous scoutmaster. On September 8th, 1914, he said farewell to - his little camp in the beechwoods of Buckinghamshire and to his - woodcraft scouts and went off to enlist in the Royal Army Medical - Corps. He was assigned to the 32nd Field Ambulance, X Division, - Mediterranean Expeditionary Forces, and sailed away to Suvla Bay, - where he passed through the tragic scenes of the Dardanelles - Campaign. He soon began sending stories "back home," achieving for - the Gallipoli Campaign what Ian Hay did for the Western Front. - These stories have been collected into a volume entitled: "At - Suvla Bay," which is published in America by _Houghton, Mifflin - and Company_. There are twenty-eight narratives told in the jargon - of the common soldier. He tells about its being "A Long Way to - Tipperary"; "Mediterranean Nights"; "Marooned on Lemnos Island"; - "The Adventure of the White Pack Mule"; "The Sniper of Pear-Tree - Gulley"; "The Adventure of the Lost Squads"; "Dug-Out Yarns"; "The - Sharpshooters"; and many other incidents of Army life. One of his - narratives, "Jhill-O! Johnnie!" is here retold by permission of his - publishers. - - -I--STORY OF THE INDIAN PACK MULE CORPS - -One evening the colonel sent me from our dugout near the Salt Lake to -"A" Beach to make a report on the water supply which was pumped ashore -from the tank-boats. I trudged along the sandy shore. At one spot I -remember the carcass of a mule washed up by the tide, the flesh rotted -and sodden, and here and there a yellow rib bursting through the skin. -Its head floated in the water and nodded to and fro with a most uncanny -motion with every ripple of the bay. - -The wet season was coming on, and the chill winds went through my -khaki drill uniform. The sky was overcast, and the bay, generally a -kaleidoscope of Eastern blues and greens, was dull and gray. - -At "A" Beach I examined the pipes and tanks of the water-supply system -and had a chat with the Australians who were in charge. I drew a small -plan, showing how the water was pumped from the tanks afloat to the -standing tank ashore, and suggested the probable cause of the sand and -dirt of which the C.O. complained. - -This done I found our own ambulance water-cart just ready to return to -our camp with its nightly supply. Evening was giving place to darkness, -and soon the misty hills and the bay were enveloped in starless gloom. - -The traffic about "A" Beach was always congested. It reminded you of -the Bank and the Mansion House crush far away in London town. - -Here were clanking water-carts, dozens of them waiting in their turn, -stamping mules and snorting horses; here were motor-transport wagons -with "W.D." in white on their gray sides; ambulance wagons jolting -slowly back to their respective units, sometimes full of wounded, -sometimes empty. Here all was bustle and noise. Sergeants shouting and -corporals cursing; transport-officers giving directions; a party of New -Zealand sharpshooters in scout hats and leggings laughing and yarning; -a patrol of the R.E.'s Telegraph Section coming in after repairing the -wires along the beach; or a new batch of men, just arrived, falling in -with new-looking kit-bags. - -It was through this throng of seething khaki and transport traffic -that our water-cart jostled and pushed. - -Often we had to pull up to let the Indian Pack-mule Corps pass, and it -was at one of these halts that I happened to come close to one of these -dusky soldiers waiting calmly by the side of his mules. - -I wished I had some knowledge of Hindustani, and began to think over -any words he might recognize. - -"You ever hear of Rabindranarth Tagore, Johnnie?" I asked him. The name -of the great writer came to mind. - -He shook his head. "No, sergeant," he answered. - -"Buddha, Johnnie?" His face gleamed and he showed his great white teeth. - -"No, Buddie." - -"Mahomet, Johnnie?" - -"Yes--me, Mahommedie," he said proudly. - -"Gunga, Johnnie?" I asked, remembering the name of the sacred river -Ganges from Kipling's _Kim_. - -"No Gunga, sa'b--Mahommedie, me." - -"You go Benares, Johnnie?" - -"No Benares." - -"Mecca?" - -"Mokka, yes; afterwards me go Mokka." - -"After the war you going to Mokka, Johnnie?" - -"Yes; Indee, France--here--Indee back again--then Mokka." - -"You been to France, Johnnie?" - -"Yes, sa'b." - -"You know Kashmir, Johnnie?" - -"Kashmir my house," he replied. - -"You live in Kashmir?" - -"Yes;--you go Indee, sergeant?" - -"No, I've never been." - -"No go Indee?" - -"Not yet." - -"Indee very good--English very good--Turk, finish!" - -With a sudden jerk and a rattle of chains our water-cart mules pulled -out on the trail again and the ghostly figure with its well-folded -turban and gleaming white teeth was left behind. - - -II--HEROISM OF THE SILENT HINDUS - -A beautifully calm race, the Hindus. They did wonderful work at Suvla -Bay. Up and down, up and down, hour after hour they worked steadily on; -taking up biscuits, bully-beef and ammunition to the firing-line, and -returning for more and still more. Day and night these splendidly built -Easterns kept up the supply. - -I remember one man who had had his left leg blown off by shrapnel -sitting on a rock smoking a cigarette and great tears rolling down his -cheeks. But he said no word. Not a groan or a cry of pain. - -They ate little, and said little. But they were always extraordinarily -polite and courteous to each other. They never neglected their prayers, -even under heavy shell fire. - -Once, when we were moving from the Salt Lake to "C" Beach, Lala Baba, -the Indians moved all our equipment in their little two-wheeled carts. - -They were much amused and interested in our sergeant clerk, who stood 6 -feet 8 inches. They were joking and pointing to him in a little bunch. - -Going up to them, I pointed up to the sky, and then to the Sergeant, -saying: "Himalayas, Johnnie!" - -They roared with laughter, and ever afterwards called him "Himalayas." - - THE INDIAN TRANSPORT TRAIN - -(Across the bed of the Salt Lake every night from the Supply Depot at -Kangaroo Beach to the firing-line beyond Chocolate Hill, September, -1915.) - - The Indian whallahs go up to the hills;-- - "Jhill-o! Johnnie, Jhill-o!"[10] - They pass by the spot where the gun-cotton kills; - They shiver and huddle--they feel the night chills;-- - "Jhill-o! Johnnie, Jhill-o!" - - With creaking and jingle of harness and pack;-- - "Jhill-o! Johnnie, Jhill-o!" - Where the moonlight is white and the shadows are black, - They are climbing the winding and rocky mule-track;-- - "Jhill-o! Johnnie, Jhill-o!" - - By the blessing of Allah he's more than one wife;-- - "Jhill-o! Johnnie, Jhill-o!" - He's forbidden the wine which encourages strife, - But you don't like the look of his dangerous knife;-- - "Jhill-o! Johnnie, Jhill-o!" - - The picturesque whallah is dusky and spare; - "Jhill-o! Johnnie, Jhill-o!" - A turban he wears with magnificent air, - But he chucks down his pack when it's time for his prayer;-- - "Jhill-o! Johnnie, Jhill-o!" - - When his moment arrives he'll be dropped in a hole;-- - "Jhill-o! Johnnie, Jhill-o!" - 'Tis Kismet, he says, and beyond his control; - But the dear little houris will comfort his soul;-- - "Jhill-o! Johnnie, Jhill-o!" - - The Indian whallahs go up to the hills;-- - "Jhill-o! Johnnie, Jhill-o!" - They pass by the spot where the gun-cotton kills; - But those who come down carry something that chills;-- - "Jhill-o! Johnnie, Jhill-o!" - -FOOTNOTE: - -[10] "Jhill-o!"--Hindustani for "Gee-up"; used by the drivers of the -Indian Pack-mule Corps. - - - - -SEEING THE WAR THROUGH A WOMAN'S EYES - -_Soul-Stirring Description of Scenes Among the Wounded in Paris_ - -_Told by (Name Suppressed)_ - - -I--"THEY HAVE NOTHING LEFT--NOT EVEN TEARS" - -What I have seen--can that be told? When will words be found simple -enough and infinite enough to tell of so much heroism, so much sorrow, -so much beauty, so much terror? All those sublimities: how can they be -explained without losing their soul, without taking away their value, -which is of mystery and miracle? All those hideous things, all those -unnatural crimes; how can they be revealed with cold and ponderous -reasoning, while one is still trembling, keeping back tears, smothering -cries? - -It must be done, though, and that French shyness that hates all that -is bluff or bragging, and which fain would wait that our glory and -suffering be understood, it too must be conquered. We must rise above -that too delicate conscience which says: "Speak? What good will it do? -Truth is luminous; it shines before all eyes." Yes, but it must be -helped to shine, and without delay. - -That is why, I have decided to address the American nation, to tell it -that which I know, that which is evident, undeniable--to take it to the -frightful and divine Calvary of truth. - -For six months I have been living among our soldiers, our wounded. -I live in my Paris. That Paris that every one visits and that no one -knows. I have only left it for some brief excursions to the cathedrals -in agony, to the villages in ashes, to the ambulances at the front, to -the old peasants who have nothing left--not even tears! To the little -orphans with tragic and stupefied eyes. - -Sent to distribute woolens to the combatants, I have heard a language, -haughty and superb. I have clasped the rude hands, sometimes deformed, -of more than twenty-two thousand soldiers, some wounded, others well -again, returning to the firing line, a flame in their eyes and in their -hearts. I have bent over more than ten thousand beds of mutilated young -men, many of them with gangrene. I have held hundreds in my arms on the -operating tables--I who could not support the sight of blood, nor of -illness--hundreds of poor things with atrocious wounds, and only felt -during those minutes one care--a superhuman desire to discover in the -surgeon's look or attitude the hope the poor boy would be saved. - - -II--"IF HE DIED, I SHOULD HAVE FELT GUILTY" - -I remember, above all, a youth twenty years old, who had such a -complicated wound in the chest that it is indescribable. I held the -poor, inert body while the surgeon lay wide open the thorax. "Take him -back," said the surgeon, "and be careful." I did so. Then from the -deep, bleeding wound the whole chest emptied itself, as one empties a -bucket of I don't know what unnamable liquid. The surgeon approached -then, and leaning over the now visible palpitating lung murmured: -"What can be done? It will only begin again." However, he did find -out what could be done. He had him put back in his bed--he was still -unconscious. Sitting near him, filled with anxiety I waited his -awakening. I wanted him to be saved, that child! While he was being -chloroformed a few minutes before, while he was holding my hand without -saying a word, there was in his look, before his eyes closed, such a -gentle desire to live, such a prayer for protection--such confidence -in the infinite aid I gave him. If he died I should have felt myself -guilty--I don't know of what. - -He awoke--looked at me and smiled. He then murmured: "Why are you so -good to us, madame? We are not near to you." - -To this dying child, to give him back his life, it was necessary I -should explain to him his glory. I said: "Not near, my boy? Why, -understand then what I owe you! If the enemy has not entered our -Paris--if Notre Dame is intact--if I, myself, am living--it is because -you gave your blood for us. But that is not all. When you fight for -France you do not only fight for your country, you do not only save -your native land; you save an ideal, an ideal supreme, universal. -In helping all that is pure and beautiful in the world you save the -liberty of peoples, the liberty of the soul. You say to each one of us -'the yoke that weighs you down I shall help you to cast off.' - -"You do not understand me well, my boy. But see--you must live. Later -in the eternal books of history you will learn the meaning of the -blood you have given. You must live! _You must live!_ Years from now -your little children will look at you with eyes of love and admiration -because you were a soldier in the great war. They will know the meaning -of the medal shining on your chest, and for generations they will be -proud of the honour of their name. You must live, my dear boy!" - -As I spoke something wonderful illuminated the youth's eyes. "Oh, I -shall live, madame. One only has to will it. I shall live." - -He is saved! - -I do not know why I stopped to recount the agony and resurrection of -that child, because almost all of them are divinely alike--childlike, -confident, smiling. - -Another had had a whole leg amputated--a young man of twenty-two, with -a charming face. Doubtless he had already been loved by some pretty -girl. At last the day came when for the first time he was to get out of -bed and try to walk with crutches. I dreaded that moment. I expected -complaints. I already had made up my consoling arguments. - -Ah, how little I knew the soul of our children of France. He arose, -poor boy, so thin, on his one leg; and as he was also wounded in one -arm, in spite of the crutches he couldn't balance himself. That made -him laugh; _made him laugh_! - -I turned him over to a nurse because tears were choking me. But they -were not tears of sorrow; they were sobs of tenderness, respect, -admiration. - -Another had received nine wounds. He didn't want to have them spoken -of. He only wanted to talk about his days of battle--to live them -over again. "Those last days, madame, we were so near the enemy that -they could not get to us to bring us our rations. We had to find our -nourishment ourselves. When evening arrived some of us would steal out -of the trenches and pick carrots--we lived eleven days like that. One -day I brought down a pigeon. When I was able to get it we broiled it -with matches. Ah, that was a royal feast! How glad we were!" - -"Content" (glad, happy), that was the word he used most frequently. One -morning when I got to the hospital, believing him still very ill, he -greeted me with, "I go back to my depot in three days; in a fortnight -I shall be under fire! Oh, how 'content' I am!" - -Since then he has written me, "I received the tobacco. We had an awful -fight at ----. I have a finger less and am still in the ambulance, but -still 'content.'" - - -III--STORY OF THE DYING ALGERIAN - -Ah, let me still tell of my country's smile in her sorrow--so sweet, -and which is such a comfort to my heart. I have so much to tell that is -horrible. - -Another time I conducted a celebrated visitor to a "tirailleur" (a -part of the colonial infantry who leave the ranks in action and fight -individually). This "tirailleur" had had his right arm amputated. I -said, "he is an Algerian." The wounded man looked at me reproachfully -with his great soft eyes, saying: "Don't say Algerian, madame, me -French, me give arm for France." - -Another time I was with another Algerian; this one was about to die; -nothing could save him. I was trying to soften his agony. He let me go -on awhile, then suddenly stopped me with the melancholy childish accent -of the Arabs, saying: "Don't bother about me any more, madame. All -over. Me dead in two hours. Me just as happy as if get well. Thee write -my mother that." I wrote his mother. She replied: "He has served France -well. Allah has taken him to his breast." - - -IV--"WHAT I HAVE SEEN IN PARIS" - -What I have seen! I have seen Paris under the Teutonic shadow cast -from the north. Three days, on opening my windows at dawn, I anxiously -listened for the expected rumble of the cannonading. Nothing.... -It will be soon, this evening, to-morrow, I said. Everything in my -threatened city became sacred to me. For me to die, that was nothing. -But for Paris to be destroyed; my Paris! the city that cannot be -described; cannot be explained! I couldn't stand that. I burst out -weeping in the deserted streets, leaning perchance against a humble and -old house. This mere relic had feelings, regrets, like the most sublime -monuments. - -The gravest day dawned. Those who only stayed in Paris for the pleasure -they receive from it, and those who have children to take care of, -were hastening toward the stations or crowding into automobiles. I -stayed there. My heart wrung with agony, I drifted through my ordinary -occupations. Then the unbelievable happened. As I was crossing the -Place de la Madeleine, in a semi-dazed condition, a little boy, about -five or six years old, ran up to me and gave me a slip of paper. I saw -distractedly that he was decently dressed and had large blue eyes. I -automatically opened the paper. The following unheard of phrase was -typewritten on it: "_France is invincible_." - -I turned toward the child: "Who gave you that?" - -"Madame," said the little one, raising his head with a look that was -grand, immense, "We wrote them ourselves, all night." Tears filled my -eyes; I had a presentiment they were tears of deliverance. So, while -we knew the Uhlans were in Chantilly, while in the hearts of the -grown-up people horror placed its claws on faith, on hope, there was a -little child with immense blue eyes, who knew nothing, like the good -shepherds, St. Genevieve and Joan of Arc, but who knew that "France was -invincible" and who passed the night writing it. - -Yes, the miracle that saved Paris was revealed to us. But there was -another miracle, something imponderable, which was the soul of the -little boy with his eyes of light--which is the soul of Paris. - -Paris ... even during those hours did not lose its sweet disposition -of smiling independence. And it was among the children that we -found the most touching proofs. One day--at the hour when the German -aviators were storming Paris with bombs--we called it our _five o'clock -taube_--I went out with a friend near the Park Monceau. All the -passers-by were walking with their noses in the air, as they already -had got the habit of the visits of "the bad pigeons." - -One little boy had his bicycle to follow the flight, another a pair -of opera glasses. But look around in the sky as I might, I could see -nothing. Then a little boy, this one about six or seven years old, -pulled my coat. "Straight up, madame; straight up, over my head!" -That's how they frightened our little kiddies! - -The next day I was passing through a thickly populated neighbourhood -over which they had been flying for an hour. Suddenly a child bolted -out of a house as fast as it could go. But his mother caught him and -administered two resounding slaps. "I told you to stay in the house." -"Ah," protested the urchin, "ye don't only keep me from seein' de tobe, -but cher lick me in der bargain." - -These are trifles, will perhaps be said. Do you think so? Nothing is -small that reveals the immortal soul of a people. And we found it so -everywhere. Don't lose patience with me if I speak without order. My -words resemble the days I am living. They have a unity, however, as -from them always shines forth the trials, the smiles, the bravery of my -country. - - -V--"THEY ARE ALL DEAD NOW" - -What have I seen?... I saw a white glove stained with a gray spot and -a brown spot. Here is its history. When war was declared all the young -students of the Saint Cyr Army School were promoted second lieutenants. -Their average age was about twenty years. How happy they were to fight -for France. But to fight was not enough. They must do it with grace, -with style, carelessly, according to French traditions. They all swore, -those boys, to go to the first battle wearing white gloves. They kept -their word. But the white gloves made them a mark for the ambushed -sharpshooters. They are all dead. The glove I saw belonged to one of -them. The gray spot is of brain--the brown spot is blood. Piously this -relic was brought to the mother of the dead young man. This special one -was only nineteen years old. - -And let us not think that it was a useless sacrifice. It is well that -in the beginning of this war of surprises, mud and shadow, some of our -children died in the light, facing the enemy, and facing the sun, for -the good renown of French allegiance. - -What I have seen ... Yesterday I received a letter. It came from a -sergeant in the Argonne, an uneducated workman. Here it is, with the -spelling and punctuation corrected: - - * * * * * - -"Madame, thanks for letting me know that my wife has had a little girl. -But do not think I am worried. We love our families, but our duty is to -love our country first. And if I do, those at home will be taken care -of, I know it, madame. - -"I'm going to tell you something you'll be glad to hear, not at the -beginning, but you'll see at the end. A couple of weeks ago we lost a -trench and almost everybody was massacred, including our commander. I -escaped with a few more of my men. From our new trench we could see -the bodies of our comrades and officers down there. The worst of it -was that the Germans would get behind them to shoot at us. Ah, that -all those Frenchmen, dead for their country, were made to protect the -enemy! I couldn't look at that. So here's what I did. I said to my -men, 'I'm going for them, but if I stay there I don't want my body to -be made a rampart. Tie a rope around my body and if you see I'm done -for, pull me back by it.' At first things went all right. I got back -three of our comrades' corpses. But the Germans began to see something -was up. To mix them up I ordered a feint on the right--another on the -left. I kept on. - -"I was all right. Never would those people suspect that I would risk -my life to save dead bodies. So I had the joy of getting them all -back--there were sixty-seven. And can you believe it, madame, there -were two men still living. They are in a good way to getting well, and -they can indeed say they came back from pretty far off. We buried the -others. They are now sleeping peacefully. But I couldn't resist letting -those in the opposite trench know. Not a bad trick, was it, madame?" - - -VI--"THEY WILL PAY FOR THIS MISERY" - -What have I seen.... The other morning among the men who came to the -vestiaire (wardrobe), where I am occupied part of the time, and who are -generally very gay and good-humoured, there was a young soldier with a -sober, set, disagreeable face. I shook him up with, "Why, what's the -matter that a French soldier makes such a face? Won't you look me in -the face and make me a nice smile?" But he didn't change expression. I -took him to one side. "What's the matter with you, my child? First of -all, where are you from?" - -"I am from the North, madame." - -"Oh, then I understand why you are sad. You do not know where your dear -ones are." - -He looked at me with a fierce, wild expression and suddenly replied: -"I do know, madame. My elder brother was killed beside me, struck -by the same shell that wounded me. That is war. They have burned my -home, killed my mother and my father. My sister, sixteen years old, -has been violated and abused; my little sister, of nine years, has -disappeared." A black flame burned in the sombre look of the boy and -made it unbearable. I received that look straight in my eyes. "Tell me, -madame, we will get to their country, won't we, won't we?" - -"Why, certainly, my boy--nothing surer." - -"Oh, madame, they will pay for all this misery. But do not fear, _their -women and children will not be touched_." - -"Their women and children will not be touched." That is what this -martyr of barbarism and of the cruelty of the enemy found in his heart -to say--this sombre, uncultivated child of a northern village. I shook -his rough hand--I squeezed it--I kissed the poor cheeks of this orphan -with maternal kisses, and I said: "I thank thee." - - -VII--"THE CHILDREN WHO ARE MUTILATED" - -But they--what are they doing with our little children? Here's a letter -from a lady friend--a great musician. "My son-in-law, Lieutenant ---- -has been defending Verdun since August. He's all right. But when will -these barbarians be entirely driven away? Lately my son-in-law had a -German soldier who was very badly wounded picked up. When stripping -him to give him aid they found a child's hand in his pocket. He was -immediately shot." - -Don't think it's a single case. The children who are mutilated, -assassinated, burned, are counted by hundreds. At Blamont, in the -presence of the Baroness de V----, the Germans killed a child in its -mother's arms. "Why did you do that?" asked the Baroness. "We are -obliged to, otherwise we are shot," replied the men. - -Witnesses who have seen like things are too numerous to be counted. -Everybody in France remembers the sad question of the little girl -who asked her mother, "Will Santa Claus bring me back my hands for -Christmas?" - -Some time I shall go into the details of the arrival of the Belgian -children in Paris, with their terrorized looks, their screams of -fear if anyone approached them. I haven't yet the courage to go over -it. The memory I am going to call up is almost as frightful, though. -It was Sunday, August 30. All at once I got a telephone call from a -hospital where I often assisted: "Come, quick; they're bringing a lot -of wounded." - -As I arrived they were carrying in a young woman, either dead or -unconscious. Everybody was under the strain of deep emotion. We -undressed her. Her body was horribly mutilated with hideous wounds. -She was the victim of the first "taube," as the Parisiennes called -the German aeroplanes. She was passing along the street, humble and -inoffensive. Her husband was at the front. She had a child at home. -From above death smote her. The French gave men wings, and that is how -the barbarians use them. - -I left the young woman dead. I went to see the child. He was playing -at a table, laughing. The contrast was so sad I couldn't stand it. I -took away his toys. "You mustn't play any more just now, baby. You will -not see your mother again to-day." He looked up at me sadly as if he -understood. I took him in my arms and wept over him. - -There is a little--so little--of what I have seen and heard. - -Just as I finished writing I received a photograph from the painter -Guirand de Scevola, showing an old woman of sixty-five, who had been -attacked--then slaughtered. With it was a part of the Belgium official -report, not yet made public. I shall divulge the paragraph: "September -11th, Josephy Louis Buron, of the Twenty-fourth regiment of the line, -declared that having been made prisoner by the Germans, near Aerschot, -they made him plunge both hands into a kettle of boiling water. Dr. -Thone, of the Twenty-fourth regiment of the line, declared he saw the -wounds of the hero." (Told in the _New York American_.) - - - - -LOST ON A SEAPLANE AND SET ADRIFT IN A MINE-FIELD - -_Adventures on the North Sea_ - -_Told by a Seaplane Observer_ - - The Great War has introduced new perils both on land and sea. Here - is the story of one of them--two men drifting through a mine-field - on a crippled seaplane, fending off mines with their bare hands, - and expecting every moment to be blown to pieces! Daring adventure - told in the _Wide World_. - - -I--"MY HUNDREDTH FLIGHT OVER THE NORTH SEA" - -I completed my "century" of seaplane flights over the North Sea with an -adventure the like of which, I trust, will never occur again. - -Many varied experiences have gone to total up that number of -ascents--some far from pleasant, others most interesting, and well -repaying one for occasional hardships. - -The sequel to my one-hundredth flight, however, will take a lot of -effacing from my memory. - -The atmosphere was a trifle thick when we started off from our base -with the intention of flying an ordinary hundred-and-fifty-mile -circular patrol. - -The farther we progressed, the thicker grew the haze, till we at last -were travelling through dense fog. - -We left at 7.30 a.m., and climbed to two thousand five hundred feet to -get above the heat-haze and fog over the water. - -At eight-twenty-five, almost an hour later, the revolutions of the -eight-foot tractor began slackening perceptibly, and presently, to our -dismay, the engine stopped dead. - -We were compelled to descend so quickly that there was no time to send -a wireless signal; in fact, I just barely managed to cut the trailing -aerial wire free before we struck the sea. - -That I did so was a slice of luck, as, otherwise, the fuselage would -probably have been ripped up, and the machine capsized. - -When the floats smacked the water we got quite a bump, and a decided -jar in the nape of our necks. - -Fortunately, however, the under-carriage struts retained their rigidity -and did not buckle, and the seaplane rode the water right way up. - -I will not worry the reader with a technical explanation of the trouble -which had befallen our engine. Sufficient to state that it was of so -serious a nature as to preclude us from any attempt at "patching her -up." - -"Do you know where we are?" inquired the pilot, after we had heartily -chorused a round of expletives appropriate to such an eventuality. I -shook my head. - -It must be remembered we had been travelling through fog most of the -journey, and therefore could not spot the regular aids to maritime -aerial pilotage, such as light-vessels, sandbanks, buoys, and coast -contours. In addition to this there are always air currents about, to -counteract a dead compass-reckoning alone. - -By taking the mean of our calculations, however, we were eventually -able to place a finger on the approximate area where we believed -ourselves to be on the chart. - -The result was anything but encouraging. We were at least fifty miles -from the shores of England, and in a neighbourhood devoid of all -shipping, even in times of peace. What was worse, it was gradually -borne in upon us that we were perilously near, if not actually in, a -most extensive mine-field! - -Personally, I was feeling anything but buoyant, and the reason is not -far to seek. I had had the middle watch (12-4 a.m.) in the wireless -cabin ashore the previous night. A report then came through that -there was "something buzzing"--hostile submarines scudding round, or -Zeppelins or other aircraft--and I had the wireless of half-a-dozen -machines to overhaul, and superintend their going off. Then my own turn -came, and, minus breakfast or a bite of anything, off I went, having -had no food since the previous afternoon at five. Worse still, I had -not so much as a bite of "grub" about me, or even a smoke. - -The pilot went through his pockets, and discovered one solitary -cigarette resting in state in his case. Being a sportsman, as well as -a companion in misfortune, he offered it to me, and, on my emphatic -refusal, halved it. So we both lit up whilst we reviewed the situation. - -I don't believe I ever treated a smoke with greater care than I did -that half-cigarette. For aught I knew it might be my last. - -When we had finished our cogitations the joint result of our thinking -was by no means hopeful. - - -II--"S. O. S." MESSAGE ON MACHINE GUN - -A strong sun was beginning to shine through the intense heat-haze, and -the glare of the water was very trying. - -At regular intervals I fired off a Very's light, with the idea of -attracting attention. As the coloured projectiles curved high into the -air and plunged downwards, so did our hopes seem to rise and fall. - -When my Very's cartridges were exhausted, I commenced a series of -"S.O.S." messages in the Morse code on the machine-gun. The nickel -bullets of two trays of Mark VII. ammunition had winged through the -heavy air before we realized the practical futility of it all. - -We therefore kept the remainder of our gun magazines intact, as also a -brace of heavy service revolvers, 455 calibre, fully loaded. - -We were not to know what might crop up at any moment. A Taube might -find us and swoop down for bombing practice, or to make an easy prey. -We could not in any event be taken prisoners by hostile aircraft, as -there would be no space for us in a machine already full. - -At any moment, too, a U-boat might pop up and either make a target of -us for their quick-firer or take us in tow for the Belgian coast, which -was uncomfortably near at hand. - -However, come what might, we were in a mood to fight to a finish. - -Unfortunately, my wireless transmitter was worked from the engine -direct, otherwise I might have rigged up an extempore aerial from the -spare reel carried, and sent a "S.O.S." from accumulators. - -It is doubtful if such a scheme would have proved effective, but it -would have been worth trying. But in the circumstances I was helpless. - -The heat was now simply awful, the sea dead calm. We had taken off our -leather coats long since, and now rigged them up across the fuselage -overhead, for shelter from the sun's rays. - -Presently it became so hot and stuffy on the seats that both the pilot -and myself took our boots and trousers off, climbed down on the floats, -and stretched ourselves along them in the comparative shelter of the -wings and fuselage body. - -The stern part of the floats was, of course, submerged, so we lay with -our lower limbs under water, and felt cooler. This we did for about -three hours, each of which seemed an age. - -What with the heat and the want of food, which caused a dull throbbing -in my temples, by noon I was in such a state that I did not care what -happened to us. - -The pilot (poor chap) had only recently been married, and he rattled -along continually about his young wife. - -I have no wish to be in like straits again, but if such a misfortune -_should_ happen, I earnestly trust I shall not have the misfortune to -be beside a young fellow newly wedded! In the long weary time we spent -together I had the whole of his history, from childhood to courtship, -and I suppose he had mine! - -What surprised us was the great number of logs floating about. -Apparently a timber boat had foundered somewhere close by. - -Every log that hove in sight through the haze we thought was a ship. It -was a terrible time. - -At intervals we either heard--or imagined we did--the engines of -aircraft. Sometimes they seemed all around us; sometimes a long way off. - -"Our only chance is a relief seaplane being sent after us," said the -pilot. "Otherwise we are done for!" - -There was precious little chance of us ever being spotted, we reckoned, -owing to the extremely low visibility. - -At least a dozen times, as the day wore on, we heard the unmistakable -roar of aircraft, and it was torture to listen to them. - -"It's coming nearer. They will see us!" the pilot would cry, hopefully. - -Then the sound would recede into the distance, and we would become -despondent again. - - -III--"WE WERE FLOATING OVER DYNAMITE" - -It was extremely irritating, whilst anxiously following these sounds -with straining ears, to hear the swish, swish of the water across the -floats, the ripple as it rejoined the ocean again, and the creak, creak -of the great wings as we rose and fell with a squelch on the gentle -undulations of a swell. - -These sounds eventually developed into a perfect nightmare. Every swish -and creak seemed to pierce our brains. - -Eventually we climbed up into the seats again for a while and stared -our eyes out scanning the horizon with our powerful glasses. Every -piece of flotsam seen we dubbed a boat, till it drifted near enough to -make out detail. - -The wind got up a little and died down again, but it shifted the haze -somewhat. - -In the afternoon we saw a sight which gladdened our hearts. - -High up to the nor'-west, and dropping towards us, was a bird-like -machine. Nearer and nearer it came, till we could hear the engines -clearly. Soon we identified her marks, which set our fears at rest. It -was a British 'plane. - -We sprang up, gesticulated wildly, and fired a few pistol-shots just to -relieve our excitement. - -She was a rescue seaplane from our own base, it appeared, and presently -she dropped on the water beside us and "taxied" as close as she might. - -Her pilot steered within twenty yards or so of us, and the observer -heaved overboard in our direction a huge vacuum flask. - -Then, without stopping their engine, and waving cheerily, they droned -along the surface and tilted into the air again. We watched her until -the machine became a mere speck and finally faded into the blue. - -Then, and not till then, we remembered the flask. We were fated never -to taste its contents, however, for it floated past out of reach, in -the midst of a great school of giant jellyfish. - -I have never been stung by one of these loathsome-looking creatures, -and I had no desire to be on this occasion. Neither had the pilot, so -the bottle floated out of sight without giving us anything but moral -support. - -After this interlude our long impatient wait recommenced. The episode -had instilled hope into us, but the hours seemed to drag more heavily -than ever. There was nothing but sea on every hand--a great circular -expanse of glaring, shimmering water. - -Presently schools of porpoises began to put in an appearance, sporting -about in their own unmistakable style. There must have been hundreds of -them. One group frolicked close around us, and several times a glossy -black tail caught one or other of the floats a resounding smack. - -The fabric of these floats is exceedingly frail, and we were rather -concerned about them. It seemed a pity to shoot the playful creatures, -particularly as their antics created a diversion, but we trembled for -the safety of the floats every time they were struck. - -As the tide went down, several dark, spheroidal objects commenced -bobbing up by twos to the surface--on our starboard beam, as we were -floating at that time. - -Through our glasses we could spot scores more of them in the distance. -No need to tell one another what they were. We _knew_--deadly contact -mines! - -The nearest pair were only a matter of half a cable's length away, and -presently our worst ordeal commenced. - -We were drifting towards them with the ebbing tide, and were now on the -fringe of the great mine-field, perhaps the most extensive ever laid. -Once in among those floating engines of death we should have a lively -time. - -It was with no very pleasant thoughts that we considered this new -danger. I might have turned the machine gun on the mines, but there -was the risk of exploding instead of sinking them, and if one went off -it was fairly safe to assume that its mate, a couple of fathoms away, -would detonate in sympathy. I presume that this is the underlying idea -of distributing mines in this fashion. - -During the next four hours these horrid death-traps gave us a terribly -anxious time. We had some very narrow shaves, for at low-water hundreds -were in sight, and as the seaplane drifted along we were powerless to -avoid them. - -The pilot got on one float and I got on the other, and once or twice -we actually had to ward the mines off with our bare hands in order to -keep them from knocking against the machine. Had one of them done so -this story would never have been written. Fending off the mines was a -ticklish operation, as you may suppose. Great care had to be observed -in exerting our strength, and we had to place our hands on parts of the -casing of the mine that were devoid of horns, or between two horns, -if it was not floating high enough. While engaged in this delightful -occupation I went overboard twice, but managed to scramble back safely -without getting into trouble with the mines. - -Once a mine went off. It was too far away, however, for us to see what -caused the explosion. It is not improbable that a luckless porpoise -might have bent a horn in one of its leaps. - -At length, to our heartfelt relief, the tide turned, and the mines -began to disappear under the water again. - -By that time we were drifting nearly the opposite way again, carried -along by the flood-tide. - - -IV--"AN AEROPLANE COMES TO RESCUE" - -Six o'clock came, by our chronometer--seven p.m. summer time--and we -were still intact, having for about ten hours been dependent on our -frail seaplane floats for buoyancy. Had the sea risen at all, even to a -decent cat's paw, we should have been below the surface long ere this. - -It was shortly after six o'clock, when--burnt almost black by the sun, -with parched throats and swollen tongues--we heard the sound of a -propeller chugging away at no great distance. The haze had thickened -again as the sun moved west, and at first we could see nothing. In -fact, we both thought we were dreaming. - -But there was no mistake. The chugging and throbbing grew louder -and louder, and I fired three single pistol-shots into the air at -intervals. Thereupon the sound intensified, and out of the haze -ploughed a trim little armed motor-launch--officially known as an "M.L." - -She crept alongside very gingerly, lowered her dinghy, and took us off. -Then she made fast a line to the seaplane, and took her in tow at a -good seven or eight knots. - -We were heartily welcomed by the bluff sailormen aboard. - -Curiously enough, I did not feel thirst so badly as hunger. I am not of -a thirsty nature at any time, and perhaps that accounted for it. - -The first mouthful of food was torture; it seemed to rasp the skin off -my throat. After that I ate ravenously. It was the first touch of real -hunger I had known, and after the experience, I vowed that if it lay in -my power I would never again see a poor beggar go hungry. - -When our bodily wants had been attended to we settled down to a -comfortable smoke in the ward-room. The skipper, a Lieutenant R.N.R., -told us he had just made up his mind he was not going to venture -another fathom farther when he heard our shots. Owing to the proximity -of the mine-field he had been very anxious. - -After our smoke we turned in for a sleep which only terminated when the -"M.L." reached the shores of Old England and her Diesel oil-engines -ceased throbbing! This was long after midnight. - -They say our little experience has left its mark on us, but personally -I feel as fit as ever. - - - - -HOW I HELPED TO TAKE THE TURKISH TRENCHES AT GALLIPOLI - -_An American Boy's War Adventures_ - -_Told by Wilfred Raymond Doyle, on His Majesty's Ship "The Queen -Elizabeth"_ - - This is the first-hand narrative of an American boy's extraordinary - yet characteristic exploits, told from his own viewpoint and in - his own language. Young Doyle's noticeable aptitude at telling - his story may be accounted for by the fact that he is a born - journalist. His parents, who reside in Yonkers, are people of - education and refinement. The father is a blind poet of some local - repute, and at one time published a little newspaper in the Harlem - district of New York City. The special causes which led to the - enterprising lad's departure from home, and how he came to enlist - in the British Navy, are best detailed by himself in the _New York - World_. - - -I--STORY OF AN AMERICAN RUN-AWAY - -At the age of nineteen I was employed in the shipping department of a -large publishing house at a salary of six dollars a week, with small -prospect of advancement. My family were in need of all the help I could -give. I grew restless, and one day February (1916) suddenly decided to -make a change. Instead of taking a car for home I boarded a steamer for -Boston, expecting to do better in that city, and then to surprise my -parents with my success. I could get nothing better than a place as a -"bus boy" in a lunch room. After working there for three days I saw a -chance of getting a better position, but unfortunately was too late. -I was delayed two hours and that cost me my first job. - -I could find nothing else to do, and the next day I signed on an ocean -steamer, _Etonin_, bound for Liverpool with a cargo of horses. My job -was working the donkey engine for getting the feed up out of the hold; -it was an easy job--two hours a day. The rest of the time we played -cards, and when we reached Liverpool I had one penny in my pocket. The -ship was not to return to Boston before fourteen days, and I had either -to secure some work or starve. There was many a job I might have gotten -but for the fact that I was an American. At least that was the excuse -given for refusing me employment. - -I had no choice but to go to the Naval Recruiting Office. I said I was -born in Dublin and was at once accepted. I received a half crown, which -was one shilling from the King, another from the Queen, and six pence -from the Prince of Wales. I signed for the period of hostilities only, -and that night had a good supper at the Government's expense. - - -II--"HOW I REACHED THE DARDANELLES" - -The next day I was sent to the training depot at Portsmouth, where -I received my uniform and kit. I was two weeks training with the -rifle and bayonet and one week at target practice. On April 16, after -physical examination, I was declared fit for service on His Majesty's -ships. That afternoon I was drafted to the torpedo boat destroyer -_Lynx_, which reached the Dardanelles in safety at noon of April 19. -There I was assigned for service on the _Queen Elizabeth_, which I -boarded two days later when she came out from the firing line for -ammunition. - -In the distance the _Queen Elizabeth_ appeared like a huge island, -with four trees in the centre, but on a closer view was seen to be an -immense floating fortress with huge guns, ready for action. - -The complement of the _Queen Elizabeth_ is twelve hundred men, -including all ratings. I was assigned to No. 4 boiler room, which -to my surprise, was not a grimy place but scrupulously clean, and -everything in it polished as bright as a mirror. The ship uses oil fuel -exclusively. My duties were: To keep the oil sprayers and steel combs -clean, to take the density of the water every four hours, to regulate -the supply of water and the fan engine for supplying the air pressure -to the fires, and lastly to test the different safety valves. All -orders are given by means of two telegraphs, an engine room telegraph -and an oil supply telegraph. - -The _Queen Elizabeth_ went into action from midnight April 21 to -midnight April 24. I was on duty without relief. During that time I had -four times a day biscuits and water, with a half pint of rum. At noon -I was allowed two hours' rest, but could not sleep on account of the -noise. Our ship was hit every few minutes. - -During action the fire pumps are pounding tons of water over the deck -to prevent fire in case of a shell exploding on the wooden deck. It -was our duty to keep the pipes and connections clear, for the water -sucked up from the sea often contains foreign substances. One occasion -we were subjected to a heavy rapid-fire gun bombardment. The structure -shielding us was punctured like a piece of Swiss cheese and the deck -about us was splintered before the guns on our ship found the range and -destroyed the enemy's battery of guns that were turned upon us. It was -a miracle that the seven of us escaped. - -Once I was sent to the store room for tools. I had to pass the six-inch -guns and neglected to get a piece of India rubber to place between my -teeth; the result was a dislocated jaw from the shock of the firing. I -hastened to the doctor and pointed to my jaw. He put his left hand on -my head, and with his right gave me a couple of "Jim Jeffries" punches, -and, while I saw stars, reset my jaw. - -On April 26 the _Queen Elizabeth_ was ordered out from the firing line -to bring up troops to the Gallipoli Peninsula. The Royal Scots were -taken aboard from a transport in the Aegean Sea. We returned at once -and landed the Royal Scots safely under heavy fire. - -We withdrew at once about ten miles from the enemy's range, and, -borrowing a telescope, I watched the Royal Scots, 1,100 strong, make -their heroic charge, which began at 2 P. M. - -They advanced on the double and took the three rows of Turkish trenches -at the point of the bayonet without firing a shot. Then, without -waiting for reinforcements, they advanced two and a half miles into -the enemy's country. Their lines were gradually getting thinner, and -realizing that they were in a tight place, they began to retreat. That -is all that I saw. Corporal Joseph Nicolson was the only survivor of -that ill-fated regiment. - -On May 8 the news of the sinking of the _Lusitania_ reached us by -wireless, and the bombardment by the _Queen Elizabeth_ became doubly -terrific. I think more damage was done to the enemy that day than -ordinarily in a week. - -The next day there was a call for 1,000 men, 200 from each of the five -largest ships, to support the soldiers on land on May 9. I was one -of the number from the _Queen Elizabeth_, told off to go as landing -parties at 6 A. M. Every man received a rifle, bayonet, two hundred -rounds of ammunition, and two days' supply of food. - - -III--"TAKE THOSE TRENCHES OR DON'T COME BACK!" - -On leaving the ship the commander's order was: "My boys, take those -trenches or don't come back." Six hours later we landed on the -Gallipoli Peninsula, and reached the trenches safely though under -heavy firing of the enemy. I was for twelve hours in the third line -of trenches, knee deep in mud and water. Our time there was spent in -sharpening our bayonets like razors. - -At midnight we advanced to the first line trenches. All around us were -the dead and wounded of both sides. Four unsuccessful attempts were -made by the Turks to take our trenches, but each time they were beaten -back, with a heavy loss. Our side also suffered heavily. Before we -landed the British troops had lost 3,000 men in six attempts to take -the Turkish trenches. The enemy's fire had been so severe that the -transports could not land reinforcements without being sunk. - -We navy men were told that the Turkish trenches must be taken at all -costs. They were only fifty yards in front of ours. At 10.15 A. M. our -rifles were loaded with fifteen rounds, the magazine safety catch was -put on and the respirators were adjusted over our faces. Not a shot was -to be fired in our charge. - -Meanwhile our ships were firing on the enemy's trenches. At 10.25 the -order rang out, "Cold steel!" We fixed our bayonets. At 10.30 the -bugles sounded the charge. Fifty men fell while getting out; but in ten -minutes we took the Turkish trenches. Our losses were 250 killed and -200 wounded. - -It is almost impossible to describe a bayonet charge. On the instant of -the order you spring out, jump or crawl from the trenches, with bayonet -fixed, and charge on the double. Sometimes you have to creep to make -an attack. You become like a raving maniac; your senses seem to leave -you. All around comrades are dropping, but you do not think of them. -Reaching the enemy's trench, a terrific hand-to-hand struggle takes -place. Strategy is the main point. Our bayonets were eighteen inches in -length, while those of the Turks were all lengths from 12 to 15 inches. -We wore the gas respirators in our charge, as our commander thought -that our appearance would frighten the enemy. It did. We looked like -black devils. - -At 10.45 the Turkish trench was taken. After the victory our captain -made a brief address. Facing the dead and wounded with the tears -streaming from his eyes, he said: - -"I am proud of my boys who fought so splendidly and did what seven -thousand soldiers failed to do in six attempts, losing three thousand. -You, a mere handful, one thousand strong, succeeded in the first -attempt. The army has much to thank the navy for." - -The last was uttered loud enough to be heard by the soldiers in the -neighboring trenches. They were so sore about it that they would not -speak to us navy men for several days. - - -IV--THE TURKISH GIRL BEFORE THE FIRING SQUAD - -One day we were allowed a few hours' leave to go where we pleased. -In our wanderings we came to a farm where women were working in the -fields. In one field was a huge haystack. Approaching it, one of my -comrades said that he would show how he killed six Turks. He fixed his -bayonet to his rifle and made a charge at the haystack. There was blood -on his bayonet when he withdrew it. We ripped open the haystack and in -the hollow found a young Turkish girl trying to bandage her arm where -my chum's bayonet had wounded her. There were a cot, table and chair -in the stack, and the girl had a rifle with a telescopic sight, and -a box of cartridges. We were about to let her go, when she dropped a -package which broke, and thirty-one identification disks, such as are -worn by every soldier and sailor in the British Army and Navy, fell on -the ground! - -She was a sniper. We had to turn her over to our superior officer. She -was court martialed and ordered to be shot in a half hour. We could not -bear to see a woman face the firing squad, so we left the place and -went back to our trench. We stayed there until the troops were landed -and relieved us. - -While in the trenches we went through many an ordeal, the chief of -which was the vermin that, combined with the heat and filthy water, -made life almost unbearable. When we returned to our ship all our -clothing was taken from us and burned. We were then subjected to a bath -of hot water containing some powerful disinfectant which took away a -part of our skin. New uniforms were given us and we put them on our raw -hides with a sense of unspeakable delight. - -While on land we saw something of the Turkish sniper. He is a -sharpshooter, painted green from head to foot, as he is usually hidden -among the leaves of the trees. His cartridges are in a box fastened -to a branch above his head, and on his rifle is the famous telescopic -sight, an Austrian invention by means of which a child could hardly -miss the mark. When their hiding place was discovered and they were -shot, we let them hang from the branches as a warning to others. If the -sniper sees that he cannot escape, he destroys his telescopic sight. No -more than six of these wonderful inventions had been found up to that -date. I picked up one in the Turkish trench and had it in my hand for -a few minutes, but was obliged to turn it over to my superior officer -of the division to be sent to the Government arsenal for examination. - -... Shortly after our arrival in the Dardanelles one of the mine -sweepers was sunk and the body of a boy seaman floated by our ship. -One of the survivors of the sunken _Irresistible_ jumped overboard and -found the boy was not dead, though unconscious. We threw a rope and -hauled them in. A marine stepped forward and took the boy from the arms -of his rescuer. As he was carrying him to shelter a small shell from -the enemy's gun blew off the marine's head. A sailor snatched the boy -away from him. For half a minute the headless man, having his lungs -still full of air, threw up his arms, and dashed madly about the deck. -This was the only casualty on our ship during my service. - - -V--CAPTURED ON BELGIAN COAST - -On May 23 we left the Dardanelles to have our guns refitted. May 27 -we were fifteen miles off the Belgian coast and there we heard heavy -bombardment. The following day H.M.S. _Drake_ asked for a loan of fifty -men from our ship. I was one of the fifty. - -The _Drake_ was trying to locate a heavy German battery, and a lucky -shot killed the gun crew but did not damage the guns. We fifty from -the _Queen Elizabeth_ were sent ashore to destroy the guns by blowing -them up. We reached them under the heavy fire of the enemy, took off -the breeches and destroyed the mechanism. As we were setting the -dynamite to blow up these guns, a party of about three hundred Germans -surrounded us. Our rifles were stacked up about thirty feet away and in -running to reach them several of us were wounded. I received slight -flesh wounds in the arm and leg. After being searched and relieved of -all weapons, we were marched to a barbed wire stockade, about a mile -and a half inland, and were told that we were to be sent to Germany the -next day. There was another stockade with British, French and Belgian -prisoners near by, and over the barbed wire they threw us a football to -amuse ourselves. We played football until dusk. - -A German soldier was sent with a spade to dig a hole for another post -in support of the barbed wire gate. We played football all around the -field and managed to get the German soldier in our midst. We bound and -gagged him, seized his weapons and took his spade. It was getting dark -and no one suspected but that we were still playing football. - -We took turns in digging under the barbed wire fence a tunnel for -escape. While we were at work we had a genuine surprise. A German -sentry on his rounds, trod on a weak spot over our tunnel and fell in, -face downward. He could make no outcry as his mouth was filled with -grass and dirt. We immediately bound and gagged him, took his weapons -and left him there. - -We all escaped through this tunnel and beat it for the coast as fast -as our legs could carry us. The searchlights of our ship were in -action and were playing all over the coast looking for us. One of our -number was a signal man. He ripped off his jumper and, tearing it in -two pieces, waved them over his head. The signal was seen--we knew it -because the guns of the ship were brought to bear over us, to protect -us from an attack in the rear, and recapture. We received a flash light -signal to lie down, and soon we heard the sound of two engines. It was -the ship's picket boats, mounted with machine guns on stern and bow. We -were conveyed in short order to the _Drake_. - -All ships have a master of arms and a ship's corporal; they are the -ship's police, and they are always looking for trouble. As soon as -we were on the deck we were placed under arrest and taken before the -captain. The charges against us were: over-staying shore leave fourteen -hours, disobeying orders and general untidiness. We did, in fact, look -like a bunch of Hooligans. Several of us had no caps and the faces of -all of us were covered with blood and muck. Our new uniforms were so -torn that a rag man would not have given us two cents for the lot. - -The following are some of the captain's questions, and our answers: - -"Where were you men?" - -"Ashore, sir." - -"Why were you not back in time?" - -"The Germans would not let us come back, sir." - -"Where are your rifles? And did you destroy the enemy's guns? What -happened to your uniforms?" - -"We destroyed the guns, sir, but were captured. We tried to escape, but -were caught between liquid fire and poisonous gas. We lost part of our -uniforms trying to climb over the barbed wire fence, sir." - -"You pack of fools!" - -"Yes, sir." - -Then the captain, smiling, congratulated us and ordered the steward to -supply us with new uniforms and send us back to our ship as soon as -possible. We went back next day, June 2. - - -VI--BACK TO TURKEY--THEN TO AMERICA - -The _Queen Elizabeth_ was ordered back to the Dardanelles and remained -there until July 26. Through the telescope we saw many demolished -Turkish forts and big black holes where clusters of houses and groves -had been. - -On July 26 we sailed for Gibraltar. We left there on August 1 and -sailed for the North Sea and went in harbor to give the ship a thorough -overhauling. From August 10 to Sept. 5 we were cruising around the -North Sea and North Atlantic Ocean in search of the German fleet. This -sort of life, after the excitement of battle grew wearisome to every -one on board. Thoughts of home and family came to me. There had been -no chance to write or to have our letters mailed. The only mail boat -leaving the _Queen Elizabeth_ was sunk. I told the officer in charge -that I was an American. - -After hearing my story he sent a message to the Admiralty and they -ordered my discharge. I was sent to Portsmouth Naval Branch to receive -my final papers. On obtaining these I thought I was free; but I was -arrested for having failed to register as an alien when I first landed -in Liverpool. - -I was brought before a magistrate and remanded for a week. Acting on -advice I wrote to the American Consul at London. The Consul replied -that he had been looking for me since June, and he requested the -magistrate to release me so that I could be sent back to the United -States. The letter to the magistrate took fifteen minutes to read in -court. It stated that the whole army had been looking for me, at the -instigation of my parents, through the Secretary of State at Washington. - -The magistrate discharged me at once, regretting my imprisonment for a -week and stating that it was no disgrace. I left Portsmouth the next -day, Sept. 25, for Liverpool but had to stop over in London for several -hours, awaiting the fast mail train. It was shortly after the last -Zeppelin raid and, being in uniform, I was allowed to pass the lines, -to look at the effects of the bombs. Many houses were wrecked, streets -torn up and soldiers were searching the ruins for the missing. Now and -then they recovered a body, usually that of a woman or a child. The -official death list reported 150 killed. I saw a cartoon reprinted from -a German paper, picturing the people of London kneeling in prayer in -their cellars during and after a Zeppelin raid. But the fact is that -the London police had their hands full keeping the people from rushing -out of their houses to get a glimpse of the raider. - -I reached Liverpool that night and the day following I signed for my -passage on the steamship _Minian_, sailing for Boston Oct. 9. While -in Liverpool I was offered a position in a munition factory as a gun -tester at a salary of four pounds per week, but I refused the offer -because I had secured my discharge from the British Navy for the -purpose of going home. - - - - -"BIG-BANG"--STORY OF AN AMERICAN ADVENTURER - -_A Tale of the Great Trench Mortars_ - -_Told by C. P. Thompson_ - - "Big-Bang" was Tommy's name for one of our pioneer trench mortars, - invented and operated by a man named X----. The author met X---- in - a cafe not far from the front, and heard from him the details of - the story that is here set down. "So far as I am aware," he writes, - "the tale is perfectly true. I had it confirmed by the men of the - R. E. company to which X---- was attached." Recorded in the _Wide - World_. - - -I--THE SOLDIERS IN THE CAFE SALOME - -It was at Noeux-les-Mines, in the Cafe Salome, at the bottom of the -old slag-heap by the station. After tea, there being no further parade -until the working party assembled at ten o'clock that night, I had -repaired thither to drink wine and smoke until closing time. As always, -the _cafe_ was crowded with the men of half-a-dozen London regiments, -with Scotsmen in stained and muddy kilts, and French artillerymen -from the South. Later in the evening they would begin to sing in -unison--great roaring choruses swung and tossed from _cafe_ to _cafe_ -and taken up by the crowded-out groups in the street. - -I had managed to secure a chair at a little table in the corner, and -for companion saw before me a small, grizzled man, about fifty, whose -blue eyes, despite the dark rings underneath them, were yet singularly -intelligent, keen, and clear. We exchanged a few remarks whilst -taking each other's measure, and then, apropos of my description -of a terrible bombardment by the German _minenwerfers_ which we had -recently endured, he began to talk, and gave me a rambling impression -of his strange and original career, and especially of his adventures in -connection with his masterpiece, "Big-Bang"--a device now extinct. - -I will call him X----. Before his connection with the British Army I -gathered he had wandered widely in an up-and-down, rolling-stone sort -of fashion. The Klondike had known his store during the gold rush. -He was one of those men who did undefined but profitable things in -the Western States before the days of their organized exploitation; -made thousands of dollars and spent every cent of them, roving here -and there, never staying anywhere for long, as is the way with these -pioneers of the human race. - - -II--THE AMERICAN ADVENTURER TELLS HIS TALE - -When the war broke out he was in the West, the manager of an opera -company touring the coast towns, and immediately he determined to -take a hand. At first he experienced considerable perplexity as to -how he was to get "mixed up" in the war. Apart from his nationality, -his small stature, a finger missing from his right hand, and a -pronounced limp--both legacies from the Spanish-American war in the -Philippines--seemed destined to preclude him from serving in the -army of any country in any capacity. He was even refused by a party -of Americans forming a Red Cross contingent for duty with any of the -belligerents willing to accept their service. - -However, he remembered an old friend, a major of Engineers in charge -of a company at a China station, and he immediately hurried from San -Francisco across the Pacific to Hong-Kong, where he found the --th -Siege Company, R.E., under orders to move, and cursing destiny, in the -shape of the British War Office, which refused to allow them to be -in at the fall of Tsing-tau. Forthwith he attached himself to them. -His sole qualification consisted of an erratic but handy knowledge -of mechanics, picked up here and there--as chauffeur to a Vancouver -millionaire, as a greaser, ganger, and a stoker, but principally -during eighteen months of desultory employment in the machine-shops of -Pittsburg. After much argument concerning the King's Regulations with -regard to recruits and the position of a man in the ranks, the major -had taken him on the strength as mechanic for the three motor-cycles -owned by his command. In September, 1914, he left the Western theatre -of war--quietly exultant, as I imagine. - -He was curiously frank as to his attitude towards the war. - -"I have always liked big things, and I had to get into this somehow," -he said, finishing a large _cassis_. "This war is the biggest thing -that ever happened to this old world, and if I were left out of it I -should go mad--I should, or commit suicide. That's how I feel about -it. Looking on is no good to me; I have to be right in it. But I've -illusions. Neither your cause nor the Germans' nor the newspaper gas -of both parties interest me. If the Allies hadn't adopted me I should -have squeezed somehow into one of the armies of the Central Powers. Of -course, the party I joined, that party I stick to; you can count on me -to the last drop of my blood. But you take me--I've no patriotism, as -you understand these things." - -They landed in France early in October, and within forty-eight hours -were with a corps at a point where the British forces lay resting after -the Marne and the Aisne. With those battles the operations passed -the mobile phase and began to settle down to the stagnation of the -trenches. - -The novel conditions of warfare in the earth demanded new methods -and ingenious adaptations, and soon the Engineers found themselves -overwhelmed with orders from corps headquarters and harassed by -perplexed divisions and brigades. Bombs and explosive missiles of all -sorts were in great demand, but materials other than Tickler's jam-pots -were not to be procured. And pumps were wanted; emplacements, redoubts, -trenches, field works of all descriptions required overseers from the -Engineers to superintend the working-parties, composed of uninitiated -infantry. - - -III--CATAPULT THAT HURLS BOMBS - -One day while he was busy upon a patent catapult the major came -to X---- and showed him a message from the corps, who, introduced -suddenly and unexpectedly to that formidable engine of destruction, -the _minenwerfer_, desired urgently some improvised machine or gun -wherewith to retaliate until supplies of the new weapon arrived from -home arsenals. Nor were the elaborate specifications peculiar to all -staff instructions lacking. The proposed machine must be capable of -hurling a heavy bomb a distance of not less than two hundred yards; but -at the same time, if a gun, it must not require a powerful propelling -charge. It must be portable and sufficiently compact to allow of its -introduction into a front-line trench; its working must not demand -intricate mechanical knowledge, nor must more than four men be needed -for its crew, and so on and so forth. X----, if I recollect his -narrative aright, remarked, "Jehoshaphat!" and went away to a nearby -_cafe_ to ponder out this problem in mechanics. By the next morning he -had planned and partly constructed the first of his famous simplified -mortars. - -It was, so far as I remember the constructional details, merely a large -tube, about three feet long and with a diameter of six inches, made -of very thick sheet-iron and closed at one end by a block of wrought -iron, pinned and welded on. The barrel mounted on a cradle, the bed -weighed under half a hundredweight, and was secured to the ground by -long iron pins like glorified tent-pegs. The ammunition consisted of -huge canisters packed with gun-cotton and exploded by a time fuse or a -simple percussion detonator. And if one did not look what he was doing, -the bomb might easily be slipped into the mortar detonator first--to -the dire confusion of the gun-crew. Gunpowder, rammed and wadded and -ignited through a touch-hole, discharged the canister upon its travel. -This creation was dispatched with precise instructions as to its use -and probable eccentricities, and all hoped it would "make good." - -Two days later came the report that at the first discharge the mortar -had burst. It was requested that a stronger one be made, and, further, -that the engineer-constructor should accompany his engine into the -trenches, there to superintend its working. Thus one day X---- -descended upon the lines with a new and larger mortar of more solid -construction, one dubious artilleryman as assistant gunner, canister, -a bag of powder, and a ramrod. - -I can imagine the breathless interest with which the garrison in the -trenches observed the loading of the mortar, the swift retirement from -its vicinity, and the stunned confusion following the first shot. -It went off with a stupendous roar, belching forth smoke and flame. -The canister, turning over and over in the air, was seen to describe -a mighty arc and fall upon a ruined house behind the German lines -and there explode mightily, demolishing the place as completely and -spectacularly as if a mine had been sprung beneath it. A great cheer -burst forth. The delighted soldiers promptly poured in "fifteen rounds -rapid," and a machine-gun rattled through a belt in honour of the -occasion and to follow up the bomb. The new weapon was voted a huge -success. - -It was fired five times in all, two bombs failing to explode, one -excavating a ton or so of earth from the centre of No Man's Land, -whilst the fifth fell plump into the German fire-trench, levelling it -for half-a-dozen yards in either direction and sending high into the -air a vast shower of earth, rent sandbags, timber, and human fragments. - -Then, just as a sixth projectile was being loaded, the German artillery -got to work. A storm of "whizz-bang" shells hurtled over, exploding -everywhere--in the air, on the ground, and sometimes against the high -parapet, which was sent flying. Two batteries of heavy howitzers -concentrated a slow, deliberate fire, dropping 5.2 and 9-inch shells in -the zone of the mortar, which was buried under tons of earth. At length -the bombardment ceased, and rescue parties came to dig out those men -whose dug-outs had fallen in upon them or who had been buried in the -ruins of the trench. X---- had remained by his mortar and was rescued -unconscious. - -Yet, with the tenaciousness of his breed, he came back again--having -spent a week at the field ambulance's barn hospital and a few days at -his company's quarters--armed with a third and more powerful mortar. -This time he had taken the precaution to provide himself with smokeless -powder. The German artillery observers, however, were on the look-out -for him, and although there was no longer a mountain of smoke to serve -as a target, the position of the mortar was disclosed by the enormous -roar of its discharge, which could be heard four miles away. Not five -minutes elapsed before half-a-dozen batteries, informed by telephone, -opened a tremendous fire and speedily rendered the vicinity untenable. -Casualties were high, and X---- and his weapon lost favour with the -neighbouring infantry. - - -IV--"BIG-BANG" HIS ONLY FRIEND - -Then this intrepid man mounted "Big-Bang" upon a base to which were -affixed four small wheels with broad treads. Having fired the mortar, -he would trundle it away down the trench as fast as he could go, -invariably getting clear of the fatal area before the shells began to -fall. Then he would stop and fire another shot and again make off, -dragging his mortar at the end of a rope. His ammunition he placed in -recess here and there along the line. The enraged infantry took to -heaving the canisters over the parapet until one so thrown exploded, -blowing in the trench, upon which they left them severely alone. But -whenever the maker of those canisters appeared with his mortar round -the corner of the traverse they cursed him heartily. - -In this way X---- became the best-hated man from Richebourg to the -sea. Refused admittance to dug-outs, he was obliged to sleep on -firing-platforms, on the floors of side trenches, or in saps where -night working-parties trod on him. No one spoke to him except to utter -oaths. Men said upon seeing him:-- - -"Here comes the Kaiser's best friend!" - -Sarcastic remarks were also passed on his mortar; and, strangely -enough, these hurt him more than personal abuse. He had come almost -to love his creation. Hatred of it he could tolerate, but anything -savouring of contempt; anything derogatory uttered against its power as -a destroyer, touched him to the quick; and I fancy singularly biting -language was heard in those winter trenches of 1914 and 1915. - -So he dragged on his solitary existence--desolate, hated, yet feared -because of his power of avenging himself by firing his weapon from any -spot he pleased, and thus dooming it to a tremendous "strafing" by the -enemy. He wanted someone to own him, and tried to attach himself to -the artillery, but they refused to have anything to do with him. The -thing his peculiar nature found it hardest to endure was the knowledge, -gradually forced upon him, that he was "out of it," a mere independent -unit belonging actually to neither side, a man whose decease many of -the British, equally with the Huns, would have hailed with much glee. - -This must have weighed upon him. Possibly he brooded. And all the time, -with an invincible obstinacy that was almost heroic, he fired and -fled and fled and fired, retreating sometimes up, sometimes down the -trenches, dodging the shells all day and sometimes at night. And then -he broke down. - -"It was one of those illnesses your Army doesn't recognize officially," -he told me. "It began with a sort of tired, discouraged feeling, and I -used to have queer dreams. The noise of 'Big-Bang' going off made me -jump like a marionette. I'd sweat and grow dizzy and my knees trembled -and my stomach rose. I fell down one day and they came and took me away -to the field ambulance, and after a bit they sent me down to Boulogne. -I don't quite know what happened there during the first weeks. But when -I got better they gave me a pretty good time--made quite a fuss of me, -in fact. The colonel wanted to send me to England, but I told him how -great I am on seeing this war through, and he grunted and said he'd see -what he could do. When I came out I found this staff job waiting for -me. It's not what I'd like exactly, but I suppose I'm getting old now. -Still, we're close to the guns and I have a pretty free hand here, and -can make trips to the trenches to say 'How-do' to the boys and see how -things are getting along. Oh, yes; it's not so bad. But I was sorry to -leave old 'Big-Bang.' I made her and I worked her, and I guess she did -her bit." - -For a space he meditated, puffing clouds of smoke from a ten-sou cigar. -Then with a start he returned to life. - -"Will you have a _vin blanc_, old chap? Hi, papa, _deux vins blancs_!" - -As he pushed back his soft cap I saw that "Big-Bang" had set its mark -upon him. The hair about his temples was white as snow. - - - - -"WITH OUR ARMY IN FLANDERS"--FIGHTING WITH TOMMY ATKINS - -_Where Men Hold Rendezvous with Death_ - -_Told by G. Valentine Williams, with the British Army_ - - Written in the field and under the eye of the censor, G. Valentine - Williams presents in "With Our Army in Flanders" (Edward Arnold, - London) a series of vivid war chapters differing in many respects - from the current conventional accounts from the battle fronts. Mr. - Williams is the _London Daily Mail_ correspondent. He tells about - the babel of tongues where men gather in khaki, strange meetings at - the front of long separated friends and brothers, the hunger of the - big guns. - - -I--WHERE ALL DIALECTS MEET AT BATTLE - -One of the most fascinating things to me about our army in France -are the variations of speech. I have sometimes closed my eyes when a -battalion has been marching past me on the road and tried to guess, -often with some measure of success, at the recruiting area of the -regiment from the men's accents or from their tricks of speech. - -Take the Scottish regiments, for instance. I have little acquaintance -with the dialects of Scotland, but my ear has told me that the speech -of almost every Scottish regiment, save such regiments as the Gordons -and the Black Watch, that attract men from all over the United Kingdom, -differs. - -I spent a most fascinating half hour one morning with a handful of -Glasgow newsboys serving in a famous Scottish regiment that wears the -trews. Their speech was unmistakably the speech of the Glasgow streets, -and their wits were as sharp as their bayonets. I told them they were -newsboys and newsboys they were, or of the same class, vanboys and the -like. - -I visited the Cameron Highlanders--what was left of their Territorial -battalion--after the second battle of Ypres and heard, in the speech of -Inverness-shire, their story of the battle. Many of them speak Gaelic. -One of their officers confided to me that during the battle, requiring -two men to go down to the rear, the wires being cut, to ascertain the -whereabouts of the brigade headquarters, he selected two notorious deer -poachers as likely to have their wits about them. - -It is a gratifying task, this identification of dialects. I have heard -two sappers "fra' Wigan" engaged in a lively argument with two privates -(from Cork) of the Leinster Regiment, in whose trench the two gentlemen -"fra' Wigan" were operating. A London cockney, say, from one of the -innumerable battalions of the Royal Fusiliers, would have understood -less of that conversation if it had been carried on in German, but only -a little less. - -During the Battle of Ypres two privates of the Monmouthshire Regiment, -who were talking Welsh, were pounced upon by two prowling Southerners -from one of the home counties and carried off to brigade headquarters -as German spies. What with Welsh miners talking Welsh and Cameron -Highlanders Gaelic, the broad speech of the Yorkshire Geordines, the -homely burr of the Third Hussars and other regiments recruited in the -West Country, the familiar twang of the cockneys, the rich brogue of -the Irish regiments, the strong American intonation of the Canadians, -a man out here begins to realize of what composite layers our race is -formed. - - -II--OLD FRIENDS AT THE FRONT - -Everybody who is anything is at the front. Never was there such a place -for meeting as at Flanders. The Strand is not in it. My own experience -is that of everybody else. One finds at the front men one has lost -sight of for years, old friends who have dropped away in the hurry of -existence, chance acquaintances of a Riviera train de luxe, men one has -met in business, men who have measured one for clothes. - -Often I have heard my name sung out from the center of a column of -marching troops, and a figure has stepped out to the roadside who, -after my mind has shredded it of the unfamiliar uniform, the deep brown -sunburn, the set expression, has revealed itself as old Tubby Somebody -whom one had known at school, or Brown with whom one had played golf on -those little links behind the Casino at Monte Carlo, or the manager of -Messrs. Blank in the city. - -I wanted to find a relation of mine, a sergeant in a famous London -regiment, and wrote to his people to get the number of his battalion -and his company. When the reply came I discovered that the man I wanted -was billetted not a hundred yards from me in the village, in which the -War Correspondents' Headquarters were situated, where he had come with -the shattered remnant of his battalion to rest, after the terrible -"gruelling" they sustained in the second battle of Ypres. - -At the front one constantly witnesses joyous reunions, brother meeting -brother in the happy, hazardous encounter of two battalions on the road -or in the trenches. The very first man I met on coming out to the front -was a motor-car driver, whose father had particularly asked me to look -out for his boy. I discovered that he was the man appointed to drive -me! - -Humor is probably the largest component part of the spirit of the -British soldier, a paradoxical, phlegmatic sense of humor that comes -out strongest when the danger is the most threatening. A Jack Johnson -bursts close beside a British soldier who is lighting his pipe with -one of those odious French sulphur matches. The shell blows a foul -whiff of chemicals right across the man's face. "Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" -he exclaimed with a perfectly genuine sigh, "these 'ere French matches -will be the death o' me!" - -A reply which is equally characteristic of the state of mind of the -British soldier who goes forth to war is that given by the irate driver -of a staff car to a sentry in the early days of the war. The sentry -in the dead of night had levelled his rifle at the chauffeur because -the car had not stopped instantly on challenge. The driver backed his -car toward where the sentry was standing. "I'll 'ave a word with you, -young feller," he said. "Allow me to inform you that this car can't -be stopped in less than twenty yards. If you go shoving that rifle of -yours in people's faces some one will get shot before this war's over!" - -There is a great strain of tenderness in the British soldier, a great -readiness to serve. Hear him on a wet night in the trenches, begrimed, -red-eyed with fatigue, chilled to the bone, just about to lie down for -a rest, offer to make his officer, tired as he is, "a drop of 'ot tea!" -Watch him with German prisoners! His attitude is paternal, patronizing, -rather that of a friendly London policeman guiding homeward the errant -footsteps of a drunkard. - - -III--DEEP IN A SOLDIER'S HEART - -Under influence of nameless German atrocities of all descriptions, -the attitude of the British soldier in the fighting line is becoming -fierce and embittered. Nothing will induce him, however, to vent his -spite on prisoners, though few Germans understand anything else but -force as the expression of power. They look upon our men as miserable -mercenaries whose friendliness is simply an attempt to curry favor with -the noble German krieger; our men regard them as misguided individuals -who don't know any better.... - -The German phrase, "_Stellungskrieg_," is a very accurate description -of the great stalemate on the western front which we, more vaguely, -term "trench warfare." It is, indeed, a constant manoeuvering for -positions, a kind of great game of chess, in which the Germans, -generally speaking, are seeking to gain the advantage for the purposes -of their defensive, whilst the Allies' aim is to obtain the best -positions for an offensive when the moment for this is ripe. - -The ground is under ceaseless survey. A move by the enemy calls for -a counter-move on our part. A new trench dug by him may be found -to enfilade our trenches from a certain angle, and while by the -construction of new traverses or the heightening of parapet and parados -the trench may be rendered immune from sniping, a fresh trench will be -dug at a new angle or a machine gun brought up to make life sour for -the occupants of the new German position, and force them in their turn -to counter-measures. - -Any one who saw the trenches at Mons or even, much later, the trenches -on the Aisne, would scarcely recognize them in the deep, elaborate -earthworks of Flanders, with the construction of which our army is now -so familiar. - -High explosive shells in unlimited quantities are necessary to keep -the hammer pounding away at one given spot. To break a path for our -infantry through the weakly held German trenches around Neuve Chapelle -we had many scores of guns pouring in a concentrated fire on a front -of 1,400 yards for a period of thirty-five minutes. In the operations -around Arras the French are said to have fired nearly 800,000 shells in -one day. - -Even this colossal figure was surpassed by the expenditure of -high-explosive shells by the German and Austrian armies in their -successful thrust against Przemysl. Our bombardment of Neuve Chapelle -was, in the main, effective, though barbed-wire entanglements in front -of part of the German trenches were not cut, and heavy casualties were -thus caused to the infantry when they advanced. - -For the most part, however, we found the German trenches obliterated, -the little village a smoking heap of ruins, and those Germans who -survived, dazed and frightened, amid piles of torn corpses. If this -enormous concentration of guns was required to blast a path of -1,400 yards with a thirty-five-minute bombardment, what a gigantic -concentration of artillery, what a colossal expenditure of ammunition, -will be required to drive a wedge several miles deep through positions -which the Germans have spent three seasons in strengthening and -consolidating! - - -IV--IN THE BOWELS OF THE EARTH - -I went down one of our mines one night. I was spending the night in our -trenches and the captain in command of this particular section asked -me if I would care to see "our mine." Considerations of the censorship -impel me to abridge what follows up to the moment when I found myself -in a square, greasy gallery, with clay walls propped up by timber balks -leading straight out in the direction of the German trenches. Guttering -candles stuck on the balks at intervals faintly lit up as strange a -scene as I have witnessed in this war. - -Deep in the bowels of the earth a thick, square-set man in khaki -trousers and trench boots, a ragged vest displaying a tremendous torso -all glistening with sweat, was tipping clay out of a trolley and gently -chaffing in a quite unprintable English of the region of Lancashire a -hoarse but invisible person somewhere down the shaft. - -I crawled round the quizzer, slipping on the greasy planks awash with -muddy water on the floor of the gallery, and found myself confronted -by another of the troglodytes, a man who was so coated with clay that -he appeared to be dyed khaki (like the horses of the Scots Greys) from -top to toe. I asked him whence he came, so different was he, in speech -and appearance, from the black-haired, low-browed Irishmen watching at -the parapet of the trench far above us. "A coom fra' Wigan!" he said, -wiping the sweat from his forehead with a grimy hand, and, thus saying, -he turned round and made off swiftly, bent double as he was, down the -low gallery. - -I followed, the water swishing ankle-deep round my field boots. The air -was dank and foul; the stooping position became almost unbearable after -a few paces; one slipped and slithered at every step. - -At intervals side-galleries ran out from the main gap, unlit, dark -and forbidding--listening posts. After a hundred paces or so a -trolley blocked the way. Behind it two men were working, my taciturn -acquaintance and another. The latter was hacking at the virgin earth -with a pick; the former was shoveling the clay into the trolley. - -I had not been out of that mine for more than a minute when an electric -lamp flashed in my eyes, and an excitable young man, who held an -automatic pistol uncomfortably near my person, accosted me thus: "I beg -your pardon, sir"--it occurred to me that the pistol accorded ill with -this polite form of address--"but may I ask what you were doing down my -mine?" My friend, the Captain, rushed forward with an explanation and -an introduction, the pistol was put away, and the sapper subaltern was -easily persuaded to come along to the dugout and have a drop of grog -before turning in. - -One story of the mines which made everybody laugh was that of the -subaltern fresh out from home, a keen young officer, who came one night -to the dug-out of the sapper officer supervising the digging of a mine. - -"You must go up at once," he whispered in his ear in a voice hoarse -with excitement, "it is very important. Lose no time." The sapper had -gone to his dug-out worn out after several sleepless nights, and was -very loath to sally forth into the cold and frosty air. "It is a mine, -a German mine," said the subaltern fresh out from home; "you can see -them working through the glasses." The sapper was out in a brace of -shakes, and hurriedly followed the subaltern along the interminable -windings of the trenches. - -In great excitement the subaltern led him to where a telescope rested -on the parapet. "Look!" he said dramatically. The sapper applied his -eye to the glass. There was a bright moon, and by its rays he saw, sure -enough, figures working feverishly about a shaft. There was something -familiar about it, though; then he realized that he was looking down -his own mine. The wretched youth who had dragged him from his slumbers -had forgotten the windings of the trench. - - -V--INVENTIVE GENIUS OF THE SOLDIERS - -"Bombing" is one form of trench warfare particularly annoying to the -enemy. The revival of bombing began when a British soldier, to while -away an idle moment, put some high explosive and a lighted fuse in -a discarded bully-beef tin, and pitched it into the German trench -opposite him. - -In his way the British soldier is as handy as the bluejacket, and the -long days of the winter monotony produced all kinds of inventions in -the way of mortars and bombs, which led to the scientific development -of this mode of warfare. A Territorial officer was discovered making -all manner of ingenious bombs and trench appliances in his spare time. -He was taken out of the trenches and installed in an empty school, and -when last I heard of him had a regular factory turning out bombs for -the firing line. - -Bombing is very tricky work. Your bomb must be safe as long as it is in -your possession. Nor must it be liable to explosion if dropped after -the safety-catch has been removed. That is why bombs are provided with -time fuses. Some nicety of judgment is required to hurl them so that -they will explode on impact or immediately afterward. - -If the time fuse has still a second or so to burn when the bomb falls -in the enemy trench, a resolute man will pick it up and fling it back, -with disastrous consequences to the bomber. Therefore bombers must be -trained. The training is extremely simple, but it is essential, and I -look forward to the time when every soldier who comes out to France -from home will have gone through a course of bombing just as he has -gone through a course of musketry. - -Just as the Austro-Prussian War of 1866 introduced the needle-gun, and -the Franco-Prussian War the chassepot rifle, and the South African War -was the war of the magazine rifle, so the present war will be known -as the war of the automatic gun. When the German General Staff sits -down to write its official history of the great war it will be able -to attribute the greater part of the success that German arms may -have achieved to its foresight in accumulating an immense stock of -machine-guns, and in studying the whole theory and tactics of this -comparatively new weapon before any other army in the world became -alive to its paramount importance. - -The only factor that furnishes anything like a certain basis for -calculation as to the date of the conclusion of the war is the number -of fighting men available for each of the different belligerents. Of -all the supplies required for making war, the supply of men is limited. -The Germans recognized this sooner than any of their opponents. In the -machine-gun they had a machine that does the work of many men. - -The machine-gun is the multiplication of the rifle. The Vickers gun -fires up to 500 shots a minute. This is also the average performance of -the German gun. To silence this multiplication of fire you must outbid -it, you must beat it down with an even greater multiplication. This is -where the difficulty comes in for an attacking force. - -The machine-gun, with its mounting and ammunition and spare parts, is -neither light in weight nor inconspicuous to carry. When the infantry -has rushed a trench after the preliminary bombardment the machine-guns -have to be carried bodily forward over a shell and bullet swept area, -where the machine-gun detachment is a familiar and unexpected target -for the German marksmen. This is where the automatic rifle is destined -to play a part--a part so decisive, in my opinion, as may win the war -for us. - -The automatic rifle is a light machine-gun. In appearance it -resembles an ordinary service rifle, with rather a complicated and -swollen-looking magazine. It is not water-cooled like the machine-gun, -but air-cooled, and is therefore not absolutely reliable for long -usage, as it inevitably becomes heated after much firing. It will fire, -however, up to 300-odd shots a minute, and can be regarded as the -ideal weapon for beating down German machine-gun fire and checking the -advance of bombers while the heavier but more reliable machine-guns are -coming up. - - - - -COMEDIES OF THE GREAT WAR - -_Tales of Humor on the Fighting Lines_ - -_Told by W. F. Martindale_ - - In the Great War, as in everything else, comedy treads hard on - the heels of tragedy, and all sorts of quaint and comical things - happen. Here are some little stories, from a variety of reliable - sources, which will serve to show that our fighting-men, both - ashore and afloat, are still able to preserve a sense of humor. - Narrated in the _Wide World_. - - -I--STORIES TOLD "ON THE SOLDIERS" - -Human nature is whetted to a keep edge under the stress of warfare; -that is why every war is rich in anecdote. - -Character is the basis of all comedy, and the conditions of military -life, whether on active service or not, are such that "character will -out." In barracks, in camp, or in the field, soldiering applies a test -which no man can evade. Ranker, non-com., or officer, he is bound soon -or late (generally soon) to be "found out." - -There is a pretty little comedy of character which concerns a young -subaltern, fresh from an English public school, who found himself -attached, through one of the unexpected chances of war, to a battalion -of Colonial infantry. The subaltern was youthful--and looked it. -His cheek was smooth and innocent of hair, the accents of his voice -cultured and refined, his manner languid to the point of seeming -boredom. He was slight of stature, and he wore a monocle permanently -fixed in one eye. In short, he was a complete antithesis to the brawny -brood of Anak which constituted his platoon, amongst whom his advent -aroused no enthusiasm whatever. He was not popular. - -There is little risk of offence at this time of day in observing that -some of the Overseas troops are not remarkable for the strictness of -their discipline. It is a little idiosyncrasy at which no one, with -memories of Ypres and Anzac still fresh, will be disposed to cavil. -This is not to say that they cannot be handled; on the contrary, -there is ample evidence of their instant response to leadership of -the sort which they understand. But one would hardly look for that -particular sort from a beardless youth with an eye permanently glazed, -and a refined taste in language and clothes. A manner which might be -acceptable to the Guards is as little suited to Colonials as Colonial -methods to the Household Brigade. There is a custom and usage in these -matters. - -So it came to pass that the platoon took counsel with itself and -darkly determined to take its young subaltern down a peg or two. Is it -necessary to observe that the prime offences of the latter, in the eyes -of these critics, were his monocle and his accent--those traditional -marks and insignia of the "dude"? It is strange that so often the dandy -(whom history has shown to be invariably a man of spirit and courage) -should be mistaken for the dude. - - -II--THE OFFICER WITH THE MONOCLE - -On a certain morning, therefore, behold the platoon drawn up on -parade, accoutred with meticulous care, aligned in the most precise -formation--each man wearing his "identity disc" in his eye! For the -benefit of any reader who has never seen an identity disc, it may be -mentioned that the latter is the small plate of metal on which is -stamped certain information concerning the wearer which enable his -body, if necessary, to be identified. Being of the same shape, and -about the same size, as an eyeglass, and, moreover, suspended from a -cord worn round the neck, it can be made to form an admirable travesty -of a monocle. - -Not a twitch of a single muscle in the face of the young subaltern, not -a flicker of his unmonocled eye, betrayed that he was aware of anything -unusual in the appearance of his men. He took the situation in coolly, -and when, in answer to routine questions, the sergeants answered -smartly and respectfully but with a pointed imitation of his own -"haw-haw" accent, he ignored the studied insult with equal nonchalance. - -It was a good start, for an attempt at sarcasm when quietly ignored -falls flatter even than when it is wholly unperceived. In the present -case there was no possibility of an insult having been missed, and the -platoon began to feel that things were not going quite as had been -anticipated. Each man kept his identity disc firmly screwed in one eye, -however, and stared fixedly out of the other in expectation of the -officer's present discomfort. The latter could never afford to dismiss -the parade without taking cognizance of what had occurred, and the -platoon awaited the crux with interest. - -But the moment of dismissal arrived and nothing had been said. Some of -the men were covertly smiling. - -As he gave the order, the subaltern let the monocle drop from his -eye, and while the command was being obeyed, swung the glass round -and round, with the cord between finger and thumb, in a rapid circle. -Scanning the line narrowly and noting every glance upon him, he jerked -the twirling glass suddenly into the air and with the neatness of -a juggler caught it in his eye as it fell. Then he glared fiercely -through it. - -"See if you can do _that_!" he observed. "Dis-MISS!" - -Thereafter no officer ever had men under him more ready to do whatever -he asked them. And it was by a sure instinct that the latter "gave him -best." As one of them remarked, "I've seen men take risks in my time, -but that beat everything. _Suppose he'd missed catchin' that glass?_" - -If wit is a Gallic prerogative, humor belongs to the British, and not -a few comedies of the war pivot on that uniquely humorous character -Thomas Atkins. Humor is an elusive and baffling quantity, as the -wit discovered who mixed up all the boots in an hotel corridor one -evening and learned the next morning that his friend (a humorist) had -sorted them out again as soon as his back was turned. The humorist can -sometimes understand the wit, but the compliment is seldom, if ever, -returned; which is the reason why Mr. Atkins and his idiosyncrasies -remain an inscrutable enigma to our French allies. - -And if the British soldier appears incomprehensible to the -nimble-minded French, one can readily perceive that to the slow and -methodically-thinking German he must seem merely mad. The French marvel -that he is never "serious"; the Boche is perplexed to find that Hymns -of Hate and other laborious insults afford him the keenest possible -enjoyment. The secret lies in Mr. Atkins's sense of humor, which is -another way of saying his sense of proportion. He may be guilty of -little aberrations such as dribbling a football in front of him as he -advances with cold steel to the charge, but _au fond_ he has a pretty -just sense of values. - - -III--THE GERMANS WHO SANG "RULE BRITTANIA" - -At all events, his humor has the dry quality which connotes an even -mind and temper, as the following incident will show. In the earlier -days of the war, before the opposing armies in the West had burrowed -into the soil and some freedom of movement was still possible, a patrol -of three British soldiers under a sergeant were prowling abroad one -night. Within disputed territory they espied a lighted window in a -lonely farmhouse which they knew had been deserted by its owners. They -approached it stealthily. The house was surrounded without challenge, -and having posted his men at points which commanded the exits the -sergeant crept forward to reconnoitre. Music and sounds of revelry were -audible within, and the sergeant had no difficulty in discovering the -presence of four German soldiers in the farmer's best sitting-room. -The cellar had been looted, the piano commandeered, and four Teutonic -voices were upraised in melody. - -The sergeant beckoned to the waiting figures outside, and four large -but softly-treading men tiptoed delicately to the scene of the -carousal. At a given signal the door was flung open and four rifles -were levelled. - -"Hands up!" - -A chorus of "_Deutschland, Deutschland, ueber Alles_" was interrupted a -shade abruptly, and four pairs of arms shot up into the air. The Boche -does not shine in an emergency. - -With a gesture the sergeant marshalled the captives against the wall, -where they stood in a row, blinking and crestfallen. Their weapons -having been collected and removed, they were allowed to put their hands -down, and their captors regarded them quizzically. - -"Any of you blokes speak English?" queried the sergeant, genially. - -A smile of modest pride momentarily illumined one of the four wooden -faces. - -"_Ja_, I spik leedle English," ventured its owner. - -"In-_deed_!" was the rejoinder; "and where did _you_ learn it--in the -Tottenham Court Road?" - -The linguist simpered deprecatingly, with evident gratification over -the good impression which he appeared to be making. It takes a lot to -upset the complacence of the Boche. - -"Been havin' a sing-song?" continued the sergeant, encouragingly. - -The other nodded. "Der Shermans vas always der beoble of singing," he -observed, in faintly patronizing tones. - -"Ho, _are_ they?" said the sergeant. "Then suppose you start in and -sing us 'Rule Britannia' for a bit. Give us a tune, Bill." - -Bill propped his rifle against the wall, and sat himself solemnly at -the open piano. He was not a great performer, but rose to the occasion -and produced a rendering of the familiar tune which was at least -recognizable. - -"Now, then," said the sergeant, warming to his work, "not bein' a -blinkin' German I don't 'appen to be no singer, but just you listen, -and if you don't know the words, say 'em after me. '_When Brit-ain -fir-ir-ir-ir-irst at----_'" - -The musical evening was a great success, said the member of the party -from whom the present writer had the story. "We kept 'em there for four -hours, and by the time we'd finished with 'em they could sing it a fair -treat. And we didn't spare 'em the encores neither. Course, they wasn't -singin' _all_ the time, 'cos we spent some of it in moppin' up the -liquor and the food and the cigars they hadn't finished. But I reckon -they did all the singin' they wanted. Then we fell 'em into line and -drove 'em home as prisoners. They _asked_ for it, you see!" - - -IV--STORY OF A FISHERMAN AND A MINE - -The chief officer of a steamer under charter to the Admiralty tells -a very amusing story concerning an encounter with a mine, though he -candidly admits that he didn't see the humor of it until some time -after the incident occurred. - -His ship was lying alongside the quay at X----, taking in some hundreds -of tons of explosives. He himself, having nothing particular to do at -the moment, was leaning over the bridge-rails looking thoughtfully out -to sea. All of a sudden he noticed an aged waterman rowing towards the -ship, with some odd-looking object towing astern of his bluff-bowed -craft. The old man seemed to have difficulty in getting along, and the -officer watched him curiously, speculating as to what he was hauling. -At first sight it looked like a mooring-buoy, but as the boat came -nearer the watcher got the shock of his life. The fisherman was towing -a German mine of the very largest type! - -There flashed through the officer's mind the thought of the latent -power stored away in that wicked-looking sphere, only needing a slight -shock to set it free; he thought, too, of the vast store of explosives -under his feet and on the quay. If that mine exploded against the -steamer's side there would not be one stone of X---- left upon another! - -"Hi, you!" he shouted to the oncoming rower. "Sheer off with that -thing! We've got explosive aboard!" - -By way of answer the old man--now scarce a dozen yards away--cupped his -hand behind his ear. - -"What d'yer say, sir?" he called back, mildly. "I found this 'ere in -the tideway, an' I knew there was a bit of a reward offered, an' so----" - -The big mine was now bobbing dangerously close to the steamer's side, -and the officer, frantic with anxiety, literally bellowed orders -for the man to remove himself and his prize. In his excitement he -suggested regions where it is possible the temperature might have had -a disastrous effect. - -The fisherman looked up at him with a smile. "That's all right, sir," -he replied. "He 'on't do no harm. I knocked the horns off he with a -boat-hook." - -And so it proved. The old man, in his ignorance, had taken a million to -one chance, and it had come off. They say there is a special Providence -that looks after fools, but it must be peculiarly irritating to the -apostle of "frightfulness" to know that an aged waterman, encountering -a drifting mine, can lightheartedly knock off the detonator-equipped -"horns" or projections and live to bring his prize into port and -receive a reward. The chief officer aforesaid, however is not anxious -for another experience of the kind; he says they are too trying to the -nerves. - - -V--THE COCKNEY AND HIS "SOOVENEER" - -Comedy, it has been observed, turns upon character, and many little -comedies of the war hinge upon the mere personality of Thomas Atkins -himself, and the somewhat difficult adjustment of that uniquely -stubborn thing to a new environment. The resulting incidents derive -a great part of their humor from Mr. Atkins's manner of narrating -them--especially if he chance to be from London. There is no wittier or -more tersely vivid _raconteur_ than the Cockney, and though one often -hears the humor of the British soldier described as unconscious, it -is really nothing of the kind. Spontaneous and unpremeditated it may -be, but such penetrating acumen as his racy idiom reveals was never -unconscious. - -Half-a-dozen soldiers home from the Front on short leave found -themselves in a railway carriage bound for Victoria. They were of -different battalions, and fell naturally to the swapping of yarns. -Soon the conversation drifted to "souvenirs," a topic of surpassing -interest. Trophies were produced by each in turn, with the exception -of one taciturn member of the party who sat in a corner seat morosely -sucking at a short clay pipe. - -"_I_ ain't brought nothin' 'ome wiv me," was the curt response to a -suggestion that the silent one should produce his little lot. There -ensued a dialogue. - -"Wot, nothin' at all?" - -"No!" - -"Well, I'm blowed! Fancy a bloke comin' 'ome on leave and not bringin' -nothin' wiv 'im! Ain't you got no sooverneer?" - -"Sooveneer! No, I ain't got no sooveneer--not unless you call this 'ere -a sooverneer." - -The morose one fumbled in his haversack and pulled forth a brass -door-knob, which he displayed upon an extended palm. Its appearance -excited derision. - -"That's a perishin' fine sooveneer, I _don't_ think! Why, it's only a -ornery door-knob!" - -"Well, wot abaht it? S'posin' it is only an ornery door-knob! Maybe you -dunno 'ow I come by it!" - -Pressed for the story, the owner of the unexpected article proceeded:-- - -"It was like this 'ere. I'd been two weeks on a stretch in the -trenches, and never a drink--wot you might _call_ a drink--the 'ole -blinkin' time. Goin' back through the billets after we was relieved I -seed a place where they had liquor for sale, and I goes up to the door -to get a drink. Well, I 'adn't no more than took 'old o' the knob when -a blinkin' Jack Johnson come over and blew the 'ole blinkin' 'ouse out -of my 'and!" - -And with an evident sense of personal grievance not yet allayed the -speaker pouched his "sooveneer" and relapsed into gloomy taciturnity. - - -VI--THE COOK AND THE BOMB IN GREECE - -Of comedies arising out of Mr. Atkins's imperturbable phlegm there is -no end. One will suffice here--a little incident which occurred at -Salonica. At the Greek port some of our troops, it seems, are encamped -upon the hills above the town. One morning a covey of six enemy -aeroplanes flew overhead and dropped three bombs in passing. The first -exploded harmlessly, but the second fell plumb on a cook's tent, and -blew it sky-high. Shirts, coats, and trousers went hurtling up into -the air with a grim resemblance to mutilated bodies. Fortunately no -one was inside the tent. The cook was only five yards away, however, -busily marshalling an array of "dixies" (military camp-kettles) which -had been newly filled at the distant water-supply below. The force of -the explosion blew him off his feet, and likewise overturned the row of -dixies. - -Those near at hand feared their comrade had been hit by a fragment -of the bomb and ran to his assistance. But as they approached a -dishevelled figure rose from amidst the _debris_ and wrathfully -surveyed the wreckage of his "kitchen." At the spot where his tent -had been two minutes previously he hardly glanced. "And now," was his -indignant comment, "I serpose I'll 'ave to go down the ---- 'ill and -fill up the ---- dixies again!" - - -VII--A SEA-TALE--THE LIEUTENANT'S STANCHIONS - -By way of conclusion here is a little naval comedy. A minor unit of -His Majesty's Navy was undergoing the process known as "fitting -out." Her commander, one of the many good sportsmen who have placed -their personal services and such seamanship as they have acquired as -amateur yachtsmen and sailors at the disposal of the Admiralty, arrived -one morning to find a score or two of dockyard workmen on board, all -busy (in theory) with the multifarious tasks awaiting completion. In -practice, something like half the number were, if not idle, at least -less occupied than the immediate requirements of the vessel seemed to -warrant. - -The commander, being in private life a business man of considerable -energy, with a habit of getting things done, regarded the scene with -considerable disfavour, and set himself at once to remedy the state -of affairs. But the dockyard workman is an individual with very -definite ideas of his own as to how a job should be done, and a fixed -determination to do it that way unless thwarted by an authority which -he dare not evade. - -Finding orders, though respectfully received, were inadequate to the -occasion, the commander tried reason and persuasion. But though the -latter was carried to the point of cajolery the result was the same. -Baffled in the exercise of his own authority and a trifle nettled in -consequence, the energetic lieutenant determined upon a desperate -expedient. In his best sarcastic vein he wrote out a signal and -requested its transmission to the flag-captain. The officer in whose -discretion it lay to forward or suppress the message being likewise an -amateur, not yet too deeply imbued with a respect for conventions, the -signal was duly made. It was to the following effect:-- - -"SUBMITTED: That as there are at present forty workmen on No. 001, of -which number half are seated permanently on the ship's rail, a further -working party be at once sent down to strengthen the stanchions, which -will otherwise collapse under the strain." - -Within half an hour a party of workmen reported themselves at No. 001 -and gravely proceeded to strengthen the stanchions! Protests were -unavailing: the men had their orders, and with bolts, rivets, rods, and -who shall say what other contraptions, they proceeded to carry them out -with a thoroughness almost menacing. - -The commanding officer of No. 001 delights to tell this story to his -friends as a shining example of the crass ineptitude of which the -official mind, even in the Navy, is sometimes capable. It may be so; -but his friends, observing those admirably buttressed stanchions, and -noting the considerable inconvenience to which their immovable presence -permanently condemns the maker of that rash signal, sometimes wonder -whether the laugh is altogether on the latter's side. - -Lieutenant X---- looks forward to some future day when he may meet -the flag-captain in person, and there is no doubt he already has a -very good notion of what he then intends to say. But suppose he should -be greeted, before ever he can introduce the topic himself, with the -genial inquiry, "And how are your stanchions lasting?" - -They have a way of their own in the Navy. - - - - -LITTLE STORIES OF THE BIG WAR - -_Unusual Anecdotes at First Hand_ - -_Told by Karl K. Kitchen in Germany_ - - The four war stories which follow--stories of adventure, suffering - and daring--were heard by Karl K. Kitchen of the _New York World_ - during his sojourn in Germany. Two of the stories he had at - first hand, and can vouch for. A third was related to him by His - Excellency Baron von Bissing, the Military Governor of Belgium. The - fourth--recounting the exploits of Capt. Peifer, perhaps the most - remarkable story of the war--was related to the writer by a naval - officer. Copyright, 1916, Press Publishing Company. - - -I--STORY OF A MOTHER'S TRAGEDY - -One of my best friends in Vienna was Ernst Karczag. Shortly after the -outbreak of the war I received a postal from him stating that he was -about to rejoin his regiment--he was a lieutenant in a crack hussar -regiment--and proceed to the Galician front. At Christmas I received a -long letter from him and a photograph of himself in his hussar uniform. -Then one morning in March I received a cablegram from a mutual friend -in London, stating that Ernst had died of cholera in Poland. - -Ernst was in his twenty-fifth year and was tenderly attached to his -mother. Until the war broke out he had never been away from home except -on a brief holiday, and his long absence at the front last winter -brought his mother to the verge of a nervous collapse. It came to a -point where it was absolutely necessary for her to see her son. Mr. -Karczag, although a millionaire and a man of considerable influence, -was unable to get a pass for his wife to visit the line near Lodz in -Poland, where the son's regiment was stationed. She set out for Lodz -alone. - -After nearly a week of the hardest kind of travelling, much of it in -troop trains, she reached Lodz, where she found every hotel occupied by -German and Austrian officers. In desperation she decided to appeal to -Gen. Mackensen, the famous German General, who was in supreme command. - -"You shall see your son to-morrow morning," he told her when he learned -that her boy was a lieutenant of a certain hussar regiment. "I am -reviewing the Austrian troops at 6 o'clock to-morrow morning. If you -will come to my headquarters at that time I shall permit you to witness -the review." - -The review of the Austrian troops lasted nearly five hours, and it was -witnessed by Gen. Mackensen, his staff and the mother of my friend. -Regiment after regiment passed by, but there was no sign of the young -hussar officer. The anxious mother was almost ready to break down, when -at the very end of the last regiment in the review she caught sight of -her son. Forgetting her peculiar position she called to her boy. But he -did not hear her, and a few moments later he galloped out of sight. - -"I must have a few words with my boy," she pleaded with Gen. Mackensen; -"I must talk with him." - -Evidently she struck a sympathetic chord in his nature, for he told -her he would send a motor car to the hotel to take her to her son's -regiment. For two days she waited for the car, but as it did not arrive -she again went to Gen. Mackensen's headquarters, only to learn that he -had been called away to another position on the front. Apparently he -had forgotten all about his promise. There was no one to help her, so -she started out alone to reach the little Polish village where her -son's regiment was stationed. No conveyance was obtainable for any sum, -so for three days and three nights the poor mother walked the frozen -roads to her son's side. - -It was a wonderful meeting between mother and son, and when the Colonel -of the regiment heard what she had gone through he placed his own -quarters at her disposal. When the time came for her return he sent -her back to Lodz in a military wagon. Three days later she was back in -Vienna, rejoicing with her husband that their son was alive and well. - -Imagine their great shock when two days after her return they received -a telegram from the Colonel of the regiment stating that Ernst had died -suddenly of cholera. - -It is difficult to convey any idea of the grief of the parents of this -young officer. The father has lost all interest in life--money means -nothing to him. The mother is inconsolable and her mental condition is -becoming critical. - - -II--HOW CAPT. PEIFER WON HIS "POUR LE MERITE" - -Shortly after the outbreak of the war, Capt. Peifer, a German naval -officer in command of the cruiser _Yorke_, ran his ship on a mine and -the cruiser sank with nearly all on board, but Capt. Peifer was saved. -He was court-martialled and sentenced to twenty years' imprisonment. - -The Captain being an expert in high explosives, influential friends -pleaded his cause with the Kaiser, who suspended the sentence. Capt. -Peifer accordingly was released and offered his services to the -commander of the German forces in Turkey. He was assigned to duties -connected with the production of munitions when the Gallipoli campaign -began. According to the story, the British forces might have succeeded -in reaching Constantinople if it had not been for Major Peifer. - -With characteristic energy and ingenuity he started several munition -factories for the production of high explosive shells within a few -miles of Constantinople. His knowledge, combined with German efficiency -and tireless Turk labor, gave the defenders of the Dardanelles -sufficient high explosive shells to check the invaders until munitions -arrived from Germany. - -Of course the Turkish and the German commanders-in-chief were highly -pleased with Capt. Peifer's service, and the latter sent in his name to -the Kaiser as an officer deserving the order of "Pour le Merite"--one -of the most coveted honors of all Germany. - -For once German thoroughness and efficiency were inoperative. Neither -the Kaiser nor his closest advisers recognized in Major Peifer the -former naval captain who had sent his ship on a mine in violation of -proper warnings. The order of "Pour le Merite" was conferred on the new -military officer, who naturally thought that his previous blunder had -been forgiven. - -Accordingly he applied to the naval ministry for permission to rejoin -his old branch of the service. This let the cat out of the bag, and -the entire matter was laid before the Kaiser. With true magnanimity he -commuted the twenty years' sentence, but ordered the Major to remain in -the army, promising him promotion in the very near future. - - -III--STORY OF AUTOMOBILE THAT CAPTURED AN AEROPLANE - -The day Germany declared war on France, Gunther Hensel, the -twenty-two-year-old son of Ernest Johannes Hensel, a wealthy real -estate operator in Berlin, offered his services to his Fatherland. -As he had been engaged in the automobile business in Berlin he was -enlisted in a motor car battalion, where he became what is known in -Germany as a "benzine lieutenant," with no immediate prospects of ever -becoming anything else. - -However, last October, after driving military motors at the front for -more than a year, an opportunity presented itself which won Gunther -Hensel his coveted promotion. - -While driving behind the lines near Arras he caught sight of a French -aeroplane which had landed because of motor trouble. Young Hensel's -only companion at the time was an orderly, so it was a question of -acting without orders. - -Without hesitation he drove at full speed toward the aeroplane. The -Frenchmen opened fire with their revolvers, but their shots went wild, -and before they could prevent it the heavy motor car crossed the field -and crashed into the flying machine, wrecking it beyond all hope of -immediate repair. - -Both Frenchmen were caught in the wreckage, and the orderly, who of -course had a rifle, forced them to surrender. Thus in one fell swoop -the young benzine lieutenant captured a valuable French aeroplane and -two enemy soldiers. In all probability this was the first aeroplane -ever captured by an automobile. - -As a reward for this exploit he received an Iron Cross and was -transferred to the officers' college, where he is now getting -instruction in the duties of a full-fledged infantry officer. - - -IV--STORY OF THE "UNDERGROUND RAILROAD" - -Ever since the Germans have been in Brussels there has existed an -"underground railroad" to aid escaped French and Belgian prisoners -of war in reaching the Holland border and thus regaining their lines. -The German secret service tried in vain to discover how the prisoners -got away, but without success--until last September. Then one of the -"operatives," as Detective Burns would say, conceived the idea of -donning part of a French uniform and appealing to Belgian farmers on -the outskirts of Brussels to help him to get over the frontier. - -When a train load of French prisoners was moved from Lille to Aix la -Chapelle, this secret service man jumped from the train just before it -reached Brussels, and, taking refuge in a barn until dusk, appealed to -the farmer to let him remain there until he could obtain other clothes -to effect his escape. - -Impressed by the spy's French language and uniform, the unsuspecting -farmer provided him with the desired garments. The spy then asked him -for the name of some one in Brussels who would help him. The farmer -directed him to a wealthy flour and feed dealer in the Belgian capital. -This man in turn passed him on to another Belgian who was connected -with the "underground railroad," and in less than two weeks the German -spy found himself in Rotterdam. - -Of course he had learned the identity of every Belgian who had -befriended him, and on his return to Brussels he uncovered the entire -"underground" system. The trail led right to the chief surgical -hospital in the capital--the hospital in which Miss Edith Cavell was -the head nurse. - - - - -POGROM--THE TRAGEDY OF THE JEWS AND THE ARMENIANS - -_A Masterful Tale of the Eastern Front_ - -_Told by M. C. della Grazie of Vienna_ - - No result of the war has been more pitiable than the suffering - inflicted on the subject races caught in its grip. These submerged - peoples have had to submit helplessly to the brutalities of both - sets of combatants. The Poles, the Ruthenians, the Ukranians, the - Slavs of Bohemia and Moravia, have fought with little heart for - Russia, Austria or Prussia, as the case might be. But the Jews - of the Polish Pale and of Galicia have had an even harder fate; - for while the men of military age have followed the flags of - their masters, the women, the children and the old men have been - obliged to face at home all the evils which travel in the wake of - war--disorder, violence, disease, spoliation and semi-starvation. - The following story is by M. C. della Grazie, a well known Viennese - writer. It makes a masterly use of a single, simple incident to - bring home the meaning of one of the war's most hopeless and - poignant tragedies. It was written at the time when the Russians - still occupied the greater part of the Austrian province of - Galicia. This translation, with editorial comment, is by William L. - McPherson in the _New York Tribune_. - - -I--STORY OF GABRIEL GABRILOVITCH - -The colonel sat on the edge of his rumpled-up peasant's bed and with -an impatient movement knocked the ashes from his cigar. On the dirty -table before him lay the last number of a Russian weekly, which had -just arrived by field post in Galicia--a little crumpled, but otherwise -fresh looking, and with pictures which made one's mouth water. - -The devil! Was it still going so comfortably back in Petersburg (he -stopped suddenly and substituted Petrograd) with those rascals of -civilians and war cripples? Did such attractive girls still come in -and sing and dance as those whose pictures stared at him out of the -pages of the last number of the _Nida_? They must be damnably well off, -those dogs, able to frequent the Varieties, where people sit in cozy -warmth about the tables and worry about nothing more serious than the -genuineness of the labels on the wine bottles. - -And he, Gabriel Gabrilovitch! He had lain with his regiment for -nearly two weeks in this miserable Galician hole and was forced to -congratulate himself that a single windproof hut remained in which to -stop for breath after all those futile attacks--that he was able at -night to throw himself on a bundle of straw under this foul roof and -drink punch brewed from whiskey stolen from the Jews. - -For this time no headway was to be made against the devils opposite. -Not even once as far as their barbed wire defences! So well was their -artillery posted. To such a raking fire was every moving object exposed -which came in sight within an area several hundred meters wide! - -A tiresome game that--an accursedly tiresome game--and if Gabriel -Gabrilovitch himself should be one of the victims! He sprang up and -began to pace with heavy steps the uneven clay floor. He knew of better -things than that! - -Those Petrogradians--look, look! - -The slender, willowy, singing girl there in the _Nida_, with that -smile which was in itself a seduction! She evoked another image in his -excited fancy. It was his last evening of pleasure in golden Petrograd. -In a variety cabaret, too. - -The stage is already empty, the programme finished. But in a room off -the stage reserved for the performers and their guests he sees just -such a piquant little creature take form in the thin smoke clouds of -his cigarette. Exactly the same smile--acquired in Paris, and then -carried triumphantly from stage to stage, from banquet to banquet. - -The imitation diamonds glitter in the deep corsage of her dress. The -coquettish curls hang like golden orchids over her ears. The atrophied -stare of the wide pupils has the fascination of a serpent's eye. Before -her stands a tall, narrow glass vase, out of which nod the blood-red, -long-stemmed pinks which he had brought her. He, Gabriel Gabrilovitch! - -It is a picture imprinted so vividly on his senses by the warm rush of -recollection that he thinks he really sees it--not least of all the -purplish red of the vase of flowers. - -They take it easy, those Nevsky Prospekt loungers--they take it easy! - -He reaches for the glass--already cold, curse it! Not very long now and -it will be day again and a new assault, as vain as the others, will -bring them face to face with death. - -A cold draft strikes his neck. He turns around, half angry, to see who -has entered. - - -II--THE COSSACK LIEUTENANT'S HATRED - -"Ah, so!" - -It is the sotnik (lieutenant) of a Cossack detachment which has -received the order to drive the last Jews out of the surrounding -villages, so that the army can have a free field. The snow, which has -frozen finger thick on his green overcoat, begins to melt in the close, -hot air of the room. The small, hard Asiatic eyes shine. The red, -frosted fists are still clenched, as if they had just beaten somebody. - -"One can't be really angry with these fellows," says the colonel to -himself, with a feeling of soldierly satisfaction. - -"They are such splendid beasts." - -But he asks aloud: - -"Finished?" - -The Cossack's laugh is quick and harsh. - -"All herded together, Colonel. Nothing is lacking but the Red Sea." - -"How many?" - -"Several hundred." - -"And where are you going to drive them?" - -The young lieutenant raises his shoulders slowly, so that the snow on -them touches and cools his red cheeks. - -"I'll have to get an order from you as to that!" - -"An order!" cries the colonel. "An order! Now, by all three -metropolitans! The devil take me if I know!" - -The sotnik raises his shoulder again. - -"While they're here they will be in our way." - -"The vermin," growls the colonel, "always pestering us like----" - -"Like others we are on intimate terms with," laughs the Cossack. - -"Look there, if you please!" And half jokingly, half disgustedly, he -points to a black swarm of roaches hurrying like a wagon train from -behind the stove and making for a crack in the floor near the open door. - -"They are emigrating, the vermin," exclaims the colonel; "upon my soul, -they are." - -"Because they are hungry," says the Cossack, with a grin. - -"But the Jews. The Jews, those----" curses the colonel. - -"Just as black and just as hungry--but good patriots." - -The colonel lifts his head, gazes thoughtfully for a while into the -flickering flame of the slowly melting candle. Then he begins to laugh. - -"Why didn't I think of it before? Why didn't I think of it before? Ah, -Little Brother, what asses we have been!" - -The Cossack's eyes snap. He, too, has a plan which in all this orgy of -bloodthirstiness appeals to him with an even bloodier zest. - -"Do you know what we shall do with them--with all these patriots?" - -"Drive them together somewhere and sabre them," suggests the sotnik. - -"So that they can fill the newspapers again with their tale of -martyrdom," laughs Gabriel Gabrilovitch, scornfully. "Beware, Little -Brother, beware! We shall leave that to their countrymen this time." - -The blank eyes of the Cossack follow the colonel questioningly--like -the eyes of a hunting dog. - -"So," laughs the latter, softly stroking his cheek. "We'll drive these -patriots to the Austrian wire entanglements. What do you think? Will -those people over there shoot down their own subjects?" - -"But they are non-combatants, Gabriel Gabrilovitch----" - -The young man suppressed the thought before he had put it into words. -There was something in the voice of his superior which cowered him. -And, like a hunting dog, he merely listened. - -"Don't you see, Little Brother?" continues Gabriel Gabrilovitch, -rubbing his hands together with satisfaction. "And just because in that -case they will not fire, we shall rush in on the enemy. We shall have -cover and can excuse ourselves for using it." - -"It would take the devil himself to think of that!" exclaims the -sotnik, full of submissiveness and admiration. - -"I am a good Christian," declares Gabriel Gabrilovitch with bitter -humor. "And now I must have an intermediary; for, naturally, I must -inform the enemy so that they will not shoot down so many patriots." - -The young Cossack rocked his body as if already in the saddle. - -"Won't you permit me to go?" - -"Muttonhead! Shall I send one on whose face are the imprints of all -the Devil's ten fingers? Pick out the youngest, the handsomest and -the stupidist of the sotnia and send him over. The kind that believes -anything anybody tells him. Then they over there will believe him. And -what we are going to do nobody but you and I will know. Well, have you -any such 'steed of God?'" - -The sotnik strikes his body with both hands, smiles and nods. "There is -a Raskolnik here." - -"Is that so, Little Brother?" - -Both burst into violent peals of laughter as if overcome by the humor -of the situation. - - -III--THE PLOT THAT FAILED - -They would send the Raskolnik--the sectarian who was prepared to die -at any moment rather than sin in any particular against the teachings -of Jesus, who even in war abhorred attacking the enemy and wanted only -to defend himself--one of these religious enthusiasts who had to be -driven into military service with a whip. What a joke for these two -orthodox Slavs to load upon this "steed of God" the bloodguilt of their -stratagem! - -They laugh--laugh till their eyes fill with water. - -Half an hour later a young cavalryman trots away into the murky dawn. - -The fresh wind of the steppe whistles about his ears. Over his head -flutters the little white flag, which they have fastened to the top of -his lance. - -"How is it that he has found so much favor in the eyes of his commander -as to be sent as a parlamentaire to the enemy?" - -But he puzzles little about that. He is glad that the poor creatures of -God who have been driven like mice out of their holes will be allowed -to go to-morrow over into the camp of their friends. He must be a real -man, the colonel, even if so far the soldiers have found little good in -him. - -In the east it is getting lighter. Already a silvery wave spreads over -the plain from the edge of the horizon. By the time he arrives at the -first entrenchment it will be so light that the enemy can easily see -the flag on his lance. - -"It is cold," he muses. "But yet it is already spring, and where my -horse steps the snow gives way. Soon the steppe will be green again, -just as it will be back in Russia." - -And in the midst of the deep silence which surrounds him, in sight of -all the horrible traces which war and death have left upon his pathway, -there blossoms out of his innocent soul a pure, sweet memory--of home. -He recalls the straw-covered hut, the calm and mighty waves of the -distant Don, the peace of the steppe purling like a breath from heaven -through the tall grasses. - -He was only a pious peasant's son--not a Cossack. But now they have put -him as a supernumerary in a Cossack regiment, and he must go along, -through all the blood, through all the horror. - -With a slight shudder he puts his hand upon the crucifix beneath his -soldier's coat and crosses himself. - -"God grant me His grace!" - -On the other side they had caught sight of him. A sentinel advanced to -meet him. Soon he stands before the Austrian officer. - -The latter is a handsome, sturdy man. Everything neat about him, -although he has lain so long with his men in the trenches. Close up to -him the soldier stands, so that he can feel the other's breath--but it -doesn't smell of brandy. The gray eyes hold him fast while he speaks. -Not a muscle moves. But suddenly he laughs in the messenger's face. - -"Good. Now ride back. And say to your colonel that he has miscalculated -if he believes that I shall not open fire if you try to sneak in behind -those unfortunates. I know my duty, and should innocent blood be shed -the blame will rest on you." - -He speaks and turns upon his heel. The sentinel leads the dejected -messenger back to his horse and calls scornfully after him: "Are you -really so stupid or did you think that we were so stupid?" - -The latter makes no answer. But a few steps further on he strips the -white flag from his lance and throws it in the muck. Then that was the -colonel's idea. And he will stick to it. At his command they are to -hide like cowards behind the victims who are to be pushed--as a living -wall--up to the enemy's trenches! - -"They are, of course, only Jews," he says to himself. "But yet--but -yet----" - -Why does he feel that way about it? - -Suddenly he realizes. - -Like a picture it stands before him. - -The sputtering fire about which the half-frozen Jews are huddled -together--women, children, grizzled old men. Here and there a sentinel -to guard them. He, too, one of the guards. - - -IV--IN HIS BREAST HIS OWN BULLET - -Like shadows they crouch about the fire, rub the freezing hands of the -children between their own, weep, groan, pray softly. One has prayer -boxes bound on his brow and on his arms and nods and bows unceasingly, -so that his shadow dances like a curious grotesque against the light -of the fire. The Cossacks laugh. He, too, has laughed, carelessly, -unconcerned. - -Laughed until he has suddenly noticed the woman at the side of the -bearded Jew--with the slumbering child at her breast. Something in that -sight appealed to him strangely. But then they had summoned him before -the sotnik. And he had thought of it no more. - -How sharply that whole picture stands before him now--and among the -other details especially these three: The man in prayer, the shivering -mother bent toward the fire, her head cloth like a veil drawn deep over -the unconscious, slumbering child. - -"Bethlehem," he murmurs reverently, and crosses himself. - -And he is going to take part to-day in this infamy--he, a Christian! - -Then it must be true what they believe back home. That the Pravoslavine -is Anti-Christ. And he fights with him--for him--is part of his army. -Have they then altered the text of the Holy Books? So that some day -God's word of love will no longer be found in it--the Holy Word spoken -by Him who lay in the womb of a daughter of the House of David? - -It must be so! It must be so! And if till to-day he has doubted it, now -all is clear. Only Anti-Christ can give such orders. - -Shall he return to the camp? Stain his hands, too, with the blood of -these innocents? - -"When the master speaks the servant must hearken," they say back home. - -He must obey. - -Something flashes in front of him like the flash of a gun. - -"A bullet," he thinks. - -"Would it were one!" he exclaims in the torment of his soul. - -It is only a sun ray which suddenly shoots through the mist. But it has -shown a poor mortal the right way. - -They found the Raskolnik just outside the village--in his breast his -own bullet, in his right hand the cross. On his lips the smile of peace -that passeth understanding. - - - - -TALE OF THE SAVING OF PARIS - -_How a Woman's Wit Averted a Great Disaster_ - - Little by little the "inner history" of the Great War is coming to - light. This remarkable story shows how the presence of mind of a - humble woodman's widow, in the early days of hostilities, led to - the preservation of the Western Railway of France, on which at that - time Paris depended for its supplies and the transport of troops. - Told in the _Wide World_. - - -I--IN NORMANDY--STORY OF OCTAVIE DELACOURT - -In a clearing of the Foret de Lyons, near Martagny, in Normandy, -and by the side of a barely distinguishable road, stands the rustic -half-timbered cottage of Octavie Delacourt. A solitary habitation -indeed, but one well fitted to the mental outlook of a lonely woman--no -fair young heroine of romance, as some readers may hastily conclude, -but a widow of over fifty with hair turning a silvery grey. Her -husband--a forester, and the builder of the little home--had died from -a fever a year before the war. Childless, she had elected to live on -there alone, partly through necessity, partly because of the memories -which the surroundings stirred in her mind whenever she went forth -to collect sticks for her fire, or when, lying in bed at night, she -heard the wind in the trees. Twenty years with "her man," twenty years -of labour in common, had made her a fervent lover of the forest. It -had become, as it were, her domain. Certainly no one knew better its -confusing tangle of roads and pathways. - -The outbreak of the war naturally had an effect on the mind and habits -of Octavie Delacourt, but, alone in the world as she was, it affected -her much less than it had done her friends and acquaintances in the -neighbouring villages. In her case the war fever took the form of -restlessness--an eager, insatiable desire to learn the truth about the -danger which was threatening her dear France. - -As the cloud darkened over the country her anxiety for news grew keener -and keener. It seemed as though her sub-conscious self was aware that -the tide of invasion was drawing nearer and nearer to the fair fields -and orchards of Normandy, and that one morning she would wake up to -find Martagny, Gournay, and Les Andelys in the hands of the Boches. So -every day, in those early weeks of the war, she was up betimes and, -having carefully done up her grey tresses and put on a newly-ironed -blue apron, set forth to one or other of the neighbouring villages, -where she would be able to read the latest "communique" and pick up any -stray item of news that might filter through from Paris. - -About eight o'clock on the morning of September 16th, 1914, Octavie -Delacourt set out in this way, her destination on this occasion -being Gournay and the house of an old friend of her husband, a small -landowner named Rismude. It is a good distance by road from Martagny -to Gournay, so she decided to take a short cut through the Foret de -Lyons. Setting her best foot foremost, she struck off through the trees -with the swinging stride of a hardy countrywoman, and soon picked up -a little pathway amidst the undergrowth which she knew would lead -her in the right direction. After walking for some ten minutes at -full speed, she came to a part of the forest known as "La Moliere," -the site of a disused chalk quarry, the gasping white mouth of which -is partly hidden by dense foliage. It was here that her eye--long -experienced in woodcraft--noticed something unusual near the path she -was following: a number of green branches, freshly cut from the trees, -which someone--apparently in vain--had been trying to make into a fire. -Stopping in front of the charred remains, she could not suppress the -utterance of the reflection which sprang to her mind:-- - -"How stupid to cut green branches for a fire!" - -Hardly had the words passed her lips than Octavie felt a heavy hand -descended on her shoulder. With thumping heart and suddenly blanched -face she spun half round and beheld her aggressor--a heavy-featured man -in a strange dress who, with a cynical smile on his thick lips and a -hard look in his little grey eyes, had noiselessly appeared from behind -a tree. - -"How you frightened me!" exclaimed Octavie, retaining her -self-possession, in spite of her fright, and endeavouring to shake off -the leaden fingers which weighed on her slender frame. - -But not a word in reply came from the mysterious man, who might have -been made of cast-iron, so motionless did he stand. Gradually, as -Octavie Delacourt fell to examining him, the hideous truth began to -dawn upon her, and her heart almost stopped beating. She had never set -eyes before on a German soldier; she had never even seen a picture of -one. But she had heard tell of their uniform, in a vague sort of way, -and suddenly, one might say instinctively, she recognized the ash-grey -dress and the round cap of the same colour. How came the wearer of -these tell-tale clothes to be in her forest, not fifteen miles from Les -Andelys, and within rifle-shot of her native village of Martagny? - - -II--WAS HE GOING TO BAYONET HER? - -The mystery terrified her. However, no trace of fear or the tumult in -her breast appeared on her face. Her simple peasant logic told her -that would have been fatal. In the presence of the hidden and perhaps -imminent danger into which she divined she had stumbled, she told -herself, with feminine shrewdness, that at all costs she must preserve -a brave countenance and combat the enemy by craft. - -"What do you want with me? Can I be of any service to you? If you have -lost your way I can set you right. No one knows the forest better than -I." - -She paused and smiled. - -The German soldier's only reply was a sort of grunt and a slightly -relaxed hold on her shoulder. At the same time he led her in the -direction of a deep excavation, formerly used as a wolf-trap. What was -he going to do to her? She now noticed that he carried in his right -hand a bayonet, with which he swished, as they walked along, at the -tall grass and weeds. Was he going to kill her? She would have turned -and fled like a hare but for the grip in which she was held. Perhaps, -after all, she thought, there was greater safety in non-resistance than -in attempted flight. So she allowed herself to be led to the very edge -of the excavation before saying to her captor, in a pleading voice:-- - -"You are not going to do me any harm, are you? I'm only a poor, -inoffensive woman." - -Whilst making this appeal, standing on the edge of what she imagined -might be her grave, she noticed that the greater part of the hole was -skilfully hidden by a roof of branches. The next moment she heard the -man with the bayonet whistle, whereupon the head of a blond, blue-eyed -giant, also dressed in grey, but with the rank marks of an officer, -suddenly appeared through the aperture. Words in a gutteral tongue -passed between the two soldiers. Then the fair-complexioned Boche, -eyeing her critically, shrugged his shoulders disdainfully, uttered an -order, and disappeared. - -The leaden hand immediately fell from Octavie Delacourt's shoulder and -she was once more free. Now, however, all her strength seemed to have -gone from her. The feeling that she had just escaped a very real danger -robbed her of her desire to flee. Slowly, timidly, like a frightened -animal, she moved away, with her head slightly turned towards her -captor, who stood watching her, as a cat will a mouse, his bayonet -still in his hand and a look of mingled cruelty and regret on his -coarse, heavy features. A few steps more and he called to her to halt. - -"Has he changed his mind?" thought Octavie, seeing him walk towards -her. No; he intended to do her no harm; all he wanted to do was to take -her by the hand and lead her in an entirely opposite direction to the -one she was heading in. This done, he released her. - -Once through the trees, and hidden from view, Octavie Delacourt made a -_detour_ and ran as fast as her legs would carry her to Neuf-Marche. -At first she thought of returning to Martagny, but the fear of being -recaptured restrained her. Moreover, she felt that she had now an -urgent duty to perform--to inform the nearest authorities of her -discovery. That it foreboded something extremely serious for the -country she could now no longer doubt for a moment. In her flight she -had caught sight through an opening in the trees, of a third grey-clad -soldier, lying flat on his stomach at the edge of the forest and, with -his rifle close to hand, watching the movements of a peasant guiding -his plough. - -Dupont, the _aubergiste_ of Neuf-Marche, listened to her story with a -puzzled face. But, though his scepticism was great, he did not allow it -to get the better of his judgment. "Nothing would astonish him in these -times," he declared; so off he went in search of the _garde champetre_, -one of the keepers of the forest. He was lucky in catching him before -he went for his leisurely morning round, and brought him to the inn, -ready to explode with hilarity. - -"My poor woman, you must be suffering from illusions," he exclaimed, -bursting into a roar of laughter. "Prussians in the Foret de Lyons? No -more than there are cockchafers on a switch!" - -Whilst he hastened to turn to his wine and touch glasses with the -innkeeper, Octavie, seeing that it would be useless to discuss -the matter, slipped out without a word and hurried off to the -_gendarmerie_. Here Quartermaster Crosnier was almost as difficult to -convince as the _garde champetre_. - -"Prussians at Martagny?" he said, with wrinkled brow and a look of -doubt in his eyes, as he twisted his moustache. "Are you quite sure? -You astonish me." - -"Yes, I'm quite sure," affirmed Octavie, in an almost supplicating -voice. "Quite, _quite_ sure. And if you go after them, take care you -go in force, otherwise they will kill you. There is one Boche, as I've -told you, at the edge of the wood, ready to fire, and I've no doubt -there are others also lying in waiting." - -"Certainly we shall go and see if there's anything in what you say, my -good woman," replied the Quartermaster, in a condescending tone, which -proved to her that he was still undecided whether to accept her story -for gospel. - -However, there was no knowing. So he promised he would see to the -matter at once. Fraets and Lebas, his _gendarmes_, should accompany him -into the wood. They would look into the mystery as a matter of duty. - - -III--"BUT FOR A CURSED COUNTRY WOMAN!" - -On leaving the constabulary Octavie Delacourt, not wholly satisfied -that she had set the administrative machinery sufficiently in motion, -asked herself what more she could do. All at once she thought of the -post-mistress she knew at Mainneville, a village some three miles off. -Excellent idea! A post-mistress had both the telegraph and telephone -at her disposal, and she knew that this official, at any rate, would -not laugh at her. Pulling herself together once more, she set off at a -brisk walk--almost a run--in the direction of Mainneville. - -There, as she had foreseen, she met with the most sympathetic of -receptions. Mme. B----, the post-mistress, lost not a moment in -telephoning to M. Armand Bernard, the Prefect of the Eure, who -immediately passed on the news to his colleagues of the adjoining -departments. Within half an hour not a prefect, not a commissary -of police, not a _gendarme_ with a radius of a hundred miles was -uninformed. The Germans in the Foret de Lyons and their accomplices -were entrapped, as it were, within the meshes of a net. - -Octavie Delacourt went to sleep that night content indeed. But she -little knew what a service she had rendered to France--nothing less, -in fact, than the saving of the Western Railway line, on which Paris -depended at that time for its supplies and the transport of troops. - -The facts relating to the capture of the Huns in the Foret de Lyons, -and those working in conjunction with them, were briefly recorded at -the time, but, overshadowed by the greater events of those early days -of the war, their true significance was lost sight of. A Prussian -captain, a non-commissioned officer, and eleven engineers were -arrested at Oissel, thanks to the good marksmanship of Sergeant Leroy, -of the G.V.C. Service, who punctured with rifle-bullets the tyres -of the motor-cars in which they were fleeing. One of the cars bore -the plate and number of the prefect of police of Aix-la-Chapelle. -In a motor-lorry which formed part of the convoy was half a ton of -explosives. - -In the course of his examination the German officer declared that he -had crossed the departments of the Somme and the Oise without being -troubled, and that he had come into the Eure with the intention of -blowing up the Oissel bridge, or, failing this, that of Manoir. He -added that "but for a cursed countrywoman" whom one of his men had -caught in the forest, and whom he ought to have "suppressed," he would -certainly have succeeded. - -This happened about three o'clock in the afternoon. Less than an hour -later it was discovered that the capture had not been made without -bloodshed. Between the "Moliere" quarry and the excavation where the -blond Hun had appeared to Octavie Delacourt three bodies were found -stretched on the ground--those of the luckless Quartermaster Crosnier -and his _gendarmes_, who had been shot almost point-blank when calling -on the automobilists to surrender. - -Octavie Delacourt's presence of mind, bravery, and persistence were -recognized by the French Government. But the service she rendered was -infinitely greater than either the praise or the monetary reward--one -hundred francs!--which she received for having been instrumental in -preventing the perpetration of an act which might have resulted in -grave disaster to the capital of France. - - - - -HOW IT FEELS TO A CLERGYMAN TO BE TORPEDOED ON A MAN-OF-WAR - -_Told by the Rev. G. H. Collier, Chaplain on Board the British Cruiser -"Cressy"_ - - -I--"MY LIFE SPARED IN MIRACULOUS WAY" - -As you know, I was on the cruiser _Cressy_ on September 22, 1914, when -in company with the cruisers _Aboukir_ and _Hogue_ she was torpedoed by -a German submarine. My life has been spared in a most miraculous way. - -About 6:15 a.m. I was awakened by some marines waking their comrades. -"Get up quick, the _Aboukir_ is sinking." - -I tumbled out of my bunk, put on my shoes and slipping my big coat -over my pajamas I hastened up to the sheltered deck. I should tell you -that we were proceeding in line formation, the _Hogue_ leading, our -ship, the _Cressy_, bringing up the rear. We were steaming between six -to nine knots, and at a distance of about a mile or so apart. When -I got on deck the _Hogue_ had fallen back on the starboard side of -the _Aboukir_, while we stood by on the port side, both of us a good -distance off. - -The _Aboukir_ had signalled asking for boats, which, of course, were -sent off to them. Their ship gradually began to turn turtle, and it was -an inspiring sight to see the ship's company lined up on the side of -the ship awaiting the order, "Every man for himself." After a while I -went down to the quarter deck and began with the others to throw planks -of wood, etc., overboard. - -While doing this the Hogue was hit by a torpedo from a German submarine -and very quickly settled down. Indeed, no sooner was she hit than her -quarter deck was below water. She then listed, turned turtle, and in -about ten minutes had disappeared. - -Our captain sent me word to take photographs, and I had taken five when -I saw the white line of a torpedo approaching us in the starboard side, -in line with the aft-bridge. - -A few shouts heralded her approach, but nothing could be done, as our -engines were not going, and she bored her hole in our side. - -The impact was not so great or so terrible as I should have thought, -indeed it was a dull thud, and did not even throw me off my feet. -Previous to this the order to close watertight doors had been given, an -order which prevented this torpedo doing so much serious damage. - -We listed to starboard about 40 degrees, and after a time the ship -righted herself to about 30 degrees. Everyone was on the look-out for -submarines, and guns were fired at every suspicious-looking object that -looked like like a periscope. I am not going to make any assertions, -as I am much too inexperienced. I was standing by when three guns were -fired. - -The first was fired at what I thought to be a man's head. At any rate -the shell hit something, for it exploded. - -Unfortunately, I was called down from the boat deck then, so did not -see what ensued, but the gunner says he saw two men pop up from the -spot after he fired a second shot, and the torpedo lieutenant supports -his assertion of having hit the submarine. - -The second shot I saw (of course, other guns were fired) was at what I -feel sure was a submarine. She came up, and it was a plucky thing to -do, amid a mass of struggling men. I do not know if she was hit, but -I admit I felt a spasm of horror at the damage to our own men in the -water. - -The third shot went right home, and did its work, and I cheered -heartily with the rest. The Germans evidently attacked us under cover -of a sailing trawler carrying the Dutch flag. This trawler, after we -had all been hit, made no attempt at rescue work, a heartless act that -roused our anger, and the captain of the after 9.2 gun trained his gun -on her and fired. The shell hit her in the stern and she at once took -fire. - - -II--"I SAW THE TORPEDO APPROACH" - -While this was going on the Germans had fired another torpedo at -us, but it missed and went astern. Meanwhile several men had swum -alongside, and we helped them aboard, rubbed them down, pumped water -out of them, and wrapping them in blankets gave them hot tea. One of -those rescued was a midshipman. He was taken to the sick bay and after -drinking his tea, he turned to his commander and said: - -"Why shouldn't we get into these cots, sir?" - -"Quite right, sonny, jump in." He hadn't been there long when we were -struck again. The plucky boy jumped out and said, "Look here, sir, I'm -off," and away he went and jumped over the ship's side, and was picked -up by a boat some half-an-hour later. - -It was this torpedo that settled our fate. - -I saw her approaching about 400 yards distant, and she entered the -ship's side just abaft of the fore-bridge and entered No. 5 boiler -room. No doubt many poor fellows were killed outright. The ship seemed -to rise out of the water, settled back and at once listed badly and -began to turn turtle. - -There was no panic whatever. The officers supervised the collecting -of all woodwork, etc., and the order was then given, "Every man for -himself." - -Our middies were awfully brave and busily set to work to construct a -small raft with chairs and a boxing dummy. Staff-Surgeon Sawdy came up -to me, after Dr. Martin had procured me a lifebuoy, and said, "Shall I -come with you, Padre?" He is a west-country man and you may guess how -readily I said "Yes." - -After a time we had to kneel on the deck and hang on to the side. It -was just before this that I slipped off my coat and shoes. When the -ship was at an angle of 75 to 80 degrees, we stepped over the port side -on to a ledge, and hung on to the chains. A wave caught us and knocked -us against the side a bit, but not enough to injure us, but with the -next the ship turned over. - -I retained my hold of the chain and the lifebuoy, and when I felt the -ship steady I let go the chain, and after what seemed a very long -time came to the surface. Dr. Sawdy had also retained his hold of the -lifebuoy and we appeared together in the water. - -You may not realize how we could do it, but we actually laughed. He -complained of the length of time below water (I had been keeping him -down), and to suddenly pop up together, was really funny. We at once -struck out with our feet (as I can't swim) and succeeded in getting -away from the ship. - -We were soon joined by others, and six of us stuck to our lifebuoys and -a plank of wood which came floating by. After about ten minutes I began -to shake badly and my teeth were chattering. - -It was a horrible feeling, and I told the doctor I couldn't hang on -much longer, but he told me--good fellow that he is--to hang on, and -after a while the shivering passed off, but a sort of numbness set -in and occasionally we had cramps. To keep the circulation going we -rubbed each other's legs, or kicked about a bit. - - -III--THE WAY MEN MEET DEATH - -The scenes in the water were not so terrible as you may think. Here and -there men were singing, "It's a Long, Long Way to Tipperary," "We All -Go the Same Way Home," indeed, one man who joined us actually began -joking. - -The way men met their death was wonderful. They would give a smile to -their comrades, wish them luck, and slide away quite peacefully without -a struggle. - -Floating spars, etc., occasionally put us in difficulties and several -of us were badly bruised. It was a strange sight to see one's comrades, -some fully dressed, even to their caps, others naked, while others like -myself were clothed only in their pajamas. - -Before going into the water I happened to look at my watch and it was -7:50. It speaks well for an English watch, doesn't it? when I tell you -it didn't stop till 9:15. This watch and my crucifix I still have. - -Well, there we were floating about until 9:45, when we sighted some -trawlers approaching. It seemed as if they would never come to the -doctor, a marine, and myself--for we were but three then. - -At 10:20 I turned and saw a steam trawler near us and I suppose the -relief was too much for me, as I became unconscious, so from then till -1 p.m. I must give information supplied me by the doctor. Becoming -unconscious, he tells me I released my hold of the plank, but still -kept my arm around the lifebuoy. - -The steam trawler did not see us and headed away in another direction, -but from behind her came a small cutter. The doctor shouted "If you -come now you can save the Padre," and come they did, and, thank God, -saved our lives. They hauled me into the boat and pumped away at me. I -just remember being conscious for a moment and hearing voices. - -We were then put on the Lowestoft trawler, S. S. _Coriandar_, and put -in the stokehold. It was not until 1 p.m. that I became conscious, a -most painful awakening and I was very sick. The fishermen had put an -under flannel over me and given me hot tea. They were indeed good to us. - -Our commander was picked up by the same boat and was superintending -the boats which were in company with the Lowestoft trawler and others -transferring us to H. M. S. _Lennox_. (They had their reward off the -Dutch coast, eh?) - -We buried one poor fellow there and then, but brought home another. -After being massaged, I was put to bed, where I remained till 5 p.m. -until the worst of the soreness had passed off. We were landed at -Harwich at 8:30. The passage home, I'm told, was not without interest! - -An order was given to "clear for action." Those who could, rushed -on deck to see what was happening, and in the far distance saw an -aeroplane and a waterplane approaching, but as they put it, "There was -nothing doing," as they turned out to be British. - -On landing we were received at the Great Eastern Hotel, equipped as a -hospital, by the matron and her staff of Red Cross nurses. After being -examined by the doctor, and found to have no bones broken, I had my -first meal since 7 p.m. the previous day, and it was good! - - - - -LEON BARBESSE, SLACKER, SOLDIER, HERO - -_Told by Fred B. Pitney, War Correspondent_ - - -I--"I MET HIM IN THE TRENCHES ON THE SOMME" - -This is the story of Leon Barbesse, a volunteer of France. I met him -first in the trenches on the Somme. He stood in a first line post, -where we were halted because the Germans had begun a fierce rain of -shells on the French lines. They were nervous that day, the Germans. -All the day and night before there had been a succession of sallies -from the French trenches. They were really only reconnoitering -expeditions, but the Germans had come to think each the precursor of an -attack in force, and every time there was the least sign of activity -in the French lines the German artillery burst into furious action, -shelling the French trenches to prevent a sortie. We arrive as one of -these _rafales_ began, and we were halted to seek shelter. - -The best trench is not proof against a real bombardment of heavy -shells. Parapets crumble in like walls of sand. There is nothing -reassuring about coming suddenly upon a great gaping hole in what has -been considered a moment before a solid rampart, a hole still steaming -from the impact of a white hot shell weighing half a ton. It does not -add to one's confidence to find that instead of walking quietly along a -well ordered corridor with a decent, dry plank floor one is crossing a -miniature mountain chain, sinking suddenly into narrow valleys, waist -deep in water, rising as suddenly to heights that leave half one's -body exposed to the full view of the enemy. And to know that those -valleys and those heights have been caused by the explosion in the -trench of the shells that are constantly screaming overhead--that is -the most disconcerting of all. - -Such was the position we were in when I first saw Leon Barbesse. We -had come to a comparatively quiet spot. The shells whined above us -or exploded in the barbed wire in front, but they had not found the -trench. We stopped to take stock, to look about us, to get our breath, -to straighten our backs and get a new thought in our minds, something -except where the next shell would land. And standing in front of us -in the trench, some ten feet away, I saw a bearded soldier with the -stripes of a sergeant and the ribbon of the _Medaille Militaire_--the -highest honor any French soldier, from ranking general down, can -win--and the _Croix de Guerre_ with two palms, meaning that he had been -mentioned twice for conspicuous bravery in the general orders of the -army. Despite his beard he was a young man, well under thirty, and he -stood with a quiet air of confidence and looked at us with a certain -amusement. - -Five minutes later we were all distributed at the bottoms of various -deep shelters. The shells had begun to fall on the section of trench -where we were, and we had been ordered underground. I had descended -eighteen steep steps, a matter of twenty feet, and found myself in a -little, low celled, earth walled, square chamber, with six bunks in -double tiers taking up three sides and the narrow door in the fourth -side. The bearded soldier was in our party. He had preceded me and lent -me a helping hand down the ladder-like stairs. When we were safe in the -cave he lighted a candle and pulled up an empty shell box for me to sit -on. - -"You are safe here," he said. - -"That is all right," I replied. "I want to know why you smiled at us -when we came up. We had come across pretty dangerous ground." - -"I know you had," he said. "That was why I smiled. You know now -something more of what it means to be a soldier. You don't know very -much. You can go back and tell of the narrow escape you had, and you -need never come again. But for a few minutes, when you were under that -rain of shells, you knew the glory of war. You prayed. That was why I -smiled." - - -II--THE CONFESSION OF A SLACKER - -It was not exactly what one expects from a man wearing the _Medaille -Militaire_ and the _Croix de Guerre_ with two palms. There was a -certain implication in it. It sounded as though he meant that any man -not in military uniform was a curiosity seeker or a sensation monger. -I said something to that effect. - -"No," he said hastily. "Not at all. Not at all. I only meant you could -understand now, perhaps what it is that moves men in this, what makes -them take part in it." - -"Most of the men are conscripts," I said. "You are, I suppose." - -"No," he answered. "I am a volunteer. I might be at the rear; I might -even be writing for some paper." - -It was a fine answer to my brutality. - -"I beg your pardon," I said. "You are a volunteer. Tell me why you are -here." - -"I will tell you my name first," he said. "It is Leon Barbesse. I was -a schoolteacher in the centre of France, married, and with a boy four -years old. The war came and I was called to the colors, as every one -was called. But I was sent home. My lungs, you know. They are all -right now, though. A few months of this life and your lungs kill you or -they get all right. Mine are all right." - -He struck himself a heavy blow on the chest and grinned. - -"I could not have done that in 1914," he said. "I would have coughed -for half an hour." - -"So I was sent back," he continued, "and I was glad of it. I can't tell -you how glad. I did not want to go to war. I was afraid. That is the -truth. I was afraid. And when the doctor said I would not do, I could -have cheered. The doctor was sorry for me, and I pretended to be sorry, -also, but not too sorry, for he might have passed me. - -"I went home. I was safe. I did not have to fight. I did not have to -be killed. I did not have to be ashamed, for the doctors had turned me -back. Well, I was ashamed. My country was in danger. The Germans were -in France. And I was at home. But I was afraid. There you have it, I -was ashamed because I would not fight for my country, my country that -needed me, and I was afraid to fight. I was afraid to be hurt. I was -afraid to die. - -"Do you remember when they called the 1917 class a year ahead of time? -I went then. I volunteered. God, what a struggle that was! I walked -the road to the _caserne_ with the sweat running off me. For a year I -had dreamed nightly of the shells. I had heard them. They had fallen -around me. I had been wounded. I had felt the impact of the steel on my -yielding flesh. For a year I had spent my days trying to hide my terror -from my wife, my friends and my neighbors. And all the time my country -had called. Fear and shame! Fear and shame! My country called and I was -afraid to go! - -"For a man who loves his country, there is nothing harder than to be -a coward and know it. I went at last because I could not stand the -torture of failing to do my duty. No one else knew. I had been sent -back by the doctors. I was blameless before the community. But I knew -it was because I was afraid to be hurt, afraid to die. So when they -called the class 1917 I went. - -"They sent me to Verdun. Can you imagine what that meant to me? It was -in the very midst of the German attack on the left bank of the Meuse. I -had been drafted into a veteran regiment with a lot of others to help -fill up the gaps, and I joined just in time to go into the front line. - -"You know how the papers were filled at that time with the terrors of -the Verdun fighting. It was not of the bravery of our troops that I -read, but of the terrors. I don't know how I ever got into line on the -day we marched from the rear to go to the front. Everything I did was -mechanical. We were called before daylight; we had a cup of coffee; we -were marching along the road. - -"I had managed it up to then without giving myself away. True, I talked -little to my comrades, and probably that saved me. But the morning we -marched to the front, what saved me then I don't know, except possibly -because I said nothing. I was unable to speak. I was numb with fear. -I was sick. My stomach turned. I walked with my head down and my feet -dragged like great weights. - -"You know, at that time you could always hear at Verdun the pounding -of the big guns. I had heard it for days, while my regiment was in -repose. I used to go out in the woods by myself and listen to it and -terrify myself by thinking what it would be like to be under that rain -of shells. A foolish thing to do, but for more than a year, nearly two -years, I had been under the obsession of my fear. I could no longer -control it." - - -III--"WE WERE MARCHING TO INFERNO" - -"And then we were on the road, marching toward that inferno. By -imperceptible degrees the pounding grew louder. I moved mechanically -because I was in the ranks, with a man on each side of me and one -in front and one behind. I had to go on. My will could not control -my movements. I was part of a machine. The machine went toward the -pounding and I went with it. That was all, except that once I vomited. - -"Mind you, I had never really heard a shell, only the distant sound of -the explosions. We had been marching nearly two hours, when I heard my -first shell. There was a long, thin whine some place in the air. It was -a new sound, and it was so strange to me that I raised my head for the -first time since we started on the march. The man next to me laughed. - -"'A shell,' he said. - -"I looked all around me. I tried to stop to see the path of that queer -whine, but the man behind me prodded me on. Several of them laughed. - -"'You will hear plenty more,' they said. - -"They thought I was eager for them. - -"The shells began to come at regular intervals, all following the same -path with the same peculiar whine. I tried every time to see them. - -"'The Boches are hunting for a battery over on our left,' the veterans -said. There was no change in the pace. I was saying to myself, 'I have -really heard a shell, and I did not run.' - -"It was very queer to me; I tried to think it out. I was afraid. I knew -I was afraid. But I had not run. I began to wonder just how afraid I -was, and I wanted to know. I had heard the shell and my curiosity was -aroused. I wanted to go on and see how far I would go before my fear -overcame me. With every one of their long whines I studied myself to -see if I would run, then when I continued marching with the regiment I -would say: - -"'Not yet; perhaps the next time. Certainly, there is a limit beyond -which I will not go.' - -"It was as though I were studying some other man. There was the me who -was afraid and knew it, and the me who watched to see how afraid I was. - -"Eleven o'clock came and we stopped for luncheon. We stacked our -arms beside the road and eased off our equipment. I felt wonderfully -relieved that I had got that far. I was not really hungry, because I -was afraid, but I was enough master of myself to know that I must eat, -and to force myself to do so. - -"While we waited there shells began to fall close to us--close enough -so that we could hear the explosion after the whine. Before we had only -heard the whine. The first one made me jump. The whine was loud and -strong and the explosion came quick and sharp. With the second I was -strong enough to turn and look at the cloud of earth, smoke and rocks. -I was doing pretty well. A shell fell short of us. Some of the men -looked up and saw an aeroplane sailing around over our heads. - -"'Better get out of here,' they said. 'That is a Boche. He is giving -our range to his battery.' A shell dropped up near the head of the -line, almost in the road. I heard no orders, but we all gathered up our -rifles and equipment and marched off at quick step. - -"I had looked straight in the face of the shell that fell in the -field beside us. It was another triumph for me. I had looked at it, -shivering, to be sure, wondering if I would run. But I had not run. -There was still a little further to go to pursue my investigation and -find out how much I could stand before I ran." - -My curiosity got the better of me. - -"Have you found out yet?" I asked. - -"I am coming to that," he replied. "We went on up that road at the -quick step until we came to the entrance of a _boyau_ leading to the -supporting trenches. Shells fell around us all the time. The Boche -aeroplane was still trying to regulate the fire of its battery, and -there was a maddening wait at the mouth of the _boyau_ until it came -time for us to go in. We had been marching in the road four abreast, -but we had to go into the _boyau_ single file. My platoon was well -toward the rear, and that made us wait. We had nothing to do but stand -in the road and watch the shells and wait our turn." - - -IV--"HOW I CONQUERED MY FEAR" - -"I tried to follow the course of every shell. My head was continually -twisting. I jumped at every explosion. I could not control the muscles -of my back and shoulders. But I stepped out of the line and walked a -little way into the field, toward the shells. I wanted to see if I -could do it. I got close enough so that I could hear a piece of shell -whiz past my ear. Then I waited for another piece. It was a hard job, -but I waited, leaning on my rifle and looking at the ground a little -way in front of me, where the last shell had exploded. If I had moved -my eyes from that spot I could not have stayed. Not until the third one -came did I hear another piece of shell. The others had struck too far -to one side. - -"'Now I can go back,' I said to myself. But I walked very fast going -back. - -"In the _boyau_ it was not so bad. A French _avion_ had come up and -chased away the Boche. - -"I thought of the things I had done and hoped that having done them -once I could do them again. But I was not sure. I was afraid. I knew -that. I have always been afraid, and there has always been the question -in my mind if my fear would conquer or if I would conquer my fear. - -"There was the time when it became necessary to take a message from -our support trenches to our advanced lines in the _Bois des Corbeaux_. -There was a _tir de barrage_ to be crossed and volunteers were called -for. I was chosen. - -"By that time I had formed the theory that a man can do anything if -his duty demands it of him and he will keep that in his mind. It was a -part of the thought that came to me that first day in the _boyau_ and -I developed it later in the long nights. The first day I had no really -coherent thoughts, only a great fear of my own fear. Afterward I found -that I could control it, if there was a reason. And then I found that -the reason was France. - -"Of course, you may say that it was France that made me volunteer, but -I do not think so. I think it was shame--shame that I feared to go when -others went. With all the good reasons that I had for not going, with -the doctor's word, I knew, nevertheless, it was fear that kept me back. -It was because I could not tell the truth to my wife and friends and -neighbours that I went. - -"Only afterward did I find out that a great duty will take a man any -place with a calm mind. I stood against German attacks. I was in -counter attacks. I lay out in shell holes, helping to hold a line -where there were no trenches. I never forgot my fear, but I thought of -France, my country, my duty; and though I shivered and the cold sweat -rolled off me, I held steady. - -"Have you ever seen a _tir de barrage_? You can walk up to it and draw -a line with a surveyor's chain on the ground, marking exactly the -limit where the shells fall, and all beyond that line will be a mass of -boiling earth, like waves in a storm dashing on a rocky coast. There -is no interval between the explosions. They are constant, unremitting, -one following so closely on another that their detonations mingle in a -steady roar." - - -V--"I DASHED FORWARD INTO EXPLODING SHELLS" - -"I came within fifty yards of the _tir de barrage_ and stopped to watch -it and try to mark out a path. But no path was possible. No sooner was -one chosen than it was wiped out, all the little landmarks gone, the -whole face of the ground changed by a new rain of shells. My heart -sank. My stomach went suddenly empty. I knew that I had reached the -limit beyond which I could not go. I had found the point where my fear -was greater than my duty. I lay flat down on the earth. I do not know -how long I lay. I thought of nothing. There was only a horrible blank -fear. - -"And then I found that unconsciously, not knowing it, I was digging -my fingers into the ground, clutching the roots of grass and dragging -myself into the _tir de barrage_. I might as well have been dragging -myself the other way, but I had lain down with my face toward my duty. - -"When I made that discovery I got to my feet and stood upright for a -second, not more, only time to say, 'I must not give myself time to -think,' and dashed forward into the exploding shells. Such a race as -that is like the last steps of a dying horse, one that has broken a -blood vessel, straining for the wire, and plunges on his face in the -midst of his stride. I floundered blindly into the raw earth and fell -again on my face. But this time my mind was working. There was only -one thing for me to do, and I knew it. That was to go on. I crawled -forward on my hands and knees. I could not stand. It would be certain -death. Twenty times I was knocked flat, my wind gone, by the explosion -of a shell almost beside me. But I crawled on. I did not know if I had -been hit. I thought I had. Two hundred yards I crawled through the _tir -de barrage_ and then I got to our lines. They gave me the _Medaille -Militaire_ for that. - -"You asked me why I smiled when you came up to us in the trench. I was -wondering what you had to take you through the shells. I thought of -my own struggles. I wondered if you had any of the thoughts that have -crowded in on me under fire. And I smiled." - -The next time I saw him was in a hospital back of the Somme, one of -the hospitals where wounded soldiers stay only a few hours, unless -they are too badly hurt to be moved on. He was one of those who could -not be moved. He lay with closed eyes, asleep or exhausted--more -likely exhausted--propped up a little with pillows behind his head and -shoulders. His tunic hung beside his cot, and on it there was a new -ribbon, the _Legion d'Honneur_. I stopped before him. - -"There is little chance for him," the doctor said. - -"What did he do?" I asked. - -"Led his company into the Park of Deniecourt, when all the officers -were gone," replied the doctor. "They got a footing in the park and -stuck there for two days, because he would not give up, until we made -a new attack and got the park, the chateau and the village. He had -been wounded the first day, but he would not give up. He has received -the _Legion d'Honneur_ and been made a sous-lieutenant, but he will -probably never know it." - -I saw him once more. This time was on the boulevards of Paris. His -left sleeve was pinned across his breast and above it were his three -medals, from left to right the _Croix de Guerre_, now with three palms; -the _Medaille Militaire_ and the _Legion d'Honneur_. He was having a -look at Paris, he told me, while he waited for the train to take him -home to the centre of France, to his wife and boy. - -"I can tell them now that I was afraid," he said. (Told in the _New -York Tribune_.) - - - - -THE DESERTER--A BELGIAN INCIDENT - -_Told by Edward Eyre Hunt, formerly Antwerp Delegate of the American -Commission for Relief in Belgium_ - - -I--STORY OF AN AMERICAN AT THE BARONIAL CASTLE - -It was five o'clock in the morning. A riotous sunrise deluged the -Campine as I slipped into my clothes and ran down the narrow, twisting -tower-stair to keep a secret tryst with the _Baas_, or overseer. Little -slits in the tower wall, cut for mediaeval archers, let in the arrows -of the sun; and as I ran through the gloomy armory and the high-roofed -Flemish dining hall--stripped of their treasure of old pikes, swords, -crossbars, and blunderbusses by the diligent Germans--out to the -causeway, and over the creaking drawbridge on my way to the stables and -the dismantled brewery, I imagined myself an escaped prisoner from the -donjons of Chateau Drie Toren. In truth, I was running away from Baron -van Steen's week-end house-party for a breath of rustic air while the -others slept. - -The stables, tool sheds, hostlers' barracks, bake-oven, and brewery -were thatch roofed and walled with brick, toned to a claret-red, -pierced with small windows and heavy oaken doors. The doors were banded -with the baronial colors--blue stripes, alternating with yellow, like -the stripes on a barber pole--and in the centre of the hollow square of -farm buildings fumed a mammoth brown manure pile. A smell of fresh cut -hay and the warm smell of animals clung about the stables, and I heard -the watch-dog rattle his chain and sniff at the door as I passed. - -I found the Baas standing before his door, his face wrinkled with -pleasure, his cap in his hand. Behind him his wife peered out at us, -wiping her fat hands on her skirts, and two half-grown children stared -from the nearest window. The Baas and his wife were the parents of -sixteen children! - -"Good day, mynheer!" every one shouted in chorus. - -"Good day, madame; good day, Baas." (I used the Flemish title for -overseer--the word from which has come our much-abused word "Boss.") -"I'm a deserter this morning: the rest of the Baron's party sleeps." - -"Ah, so," laughed the wife. "Mynheer is like the German soldiers who -desert by dozens nowadays. And would your Honor hide in the forest like -them--like the Germans?" - -"To be sure. The Baas is to show me the deepest coverts, where mynheer -the Baron will never find me more." - -We laughed and passed on. A girl with a neckyoke and full milk pails -came by from the dairy; nodding faces appeared at the windows of the -farm buildings as we walked toward the woods; bees sped in the air from -conical straw hives close to our path; and in a few minutes we were -threading our way through a nursery of young pines, tilled like corn -rows in Kansas, and all of equal age. - -"Monsieur, there is a soul in trees," said the Baas, affectionately -patting an ancient linden on the border of the old forest. The Baas was -a man from the Province of Liege, and he preferred to speak French with -me rather than Flemish. He had, too, a Walloon lightness of wit which -went sometimes incongruously with his heavy frame, as when he said to -me once when we were debating the joys of youth versus age, "To be old -has its advantages, monsieur. One can then be virtuous, and it is not -hard." - -"There is a soul in trees," he repeated. "All together the trees have -a soul. A forest is one spirit. These trees are old men and old women, -very patient and kindly and sluggish of blood. They nod their heads in -the wind like peasants over a stove. And they talk. Sometimes I think -I can understand their talk--very wise and patient and slow. Men hurry -apart, monsieur, but the trees remain together like old married people -and watch their children grow up around them. - -"Here,"--we had turned down a path and were in the fringes of another -forest of small pines--"here the Germans have taken trees for their -fortifications, slashed and cut, and those trees that are left are like -wounded soldiers: they have arms too long or too short, heads smashed; -feet uprooted, and yet they wish to live, because they are one spirit." - -"What is this?" I demanded abruptly; for at my feet yawned a little -pit, with lumpy clay still fresh about it and a fallen cross lying half -hidden in the weeds. - -"Ho, that? It is the grave of a German," said the Baas heartily. -He spat into the raw pit. "The German has been taken away, but the -children of Drie Toren are still afraid. They will not come by this -path, on account of the dead _Deutscher_." - -His foot crushed the rude cross as he talked, and we walked on. But -I was vaguely troubled. That vile pit and the thought of what it had -contained had spoiled my promenade. As I had found on a thousand other -occasions, my freedom in Belgium was only a fiction. The war could not -be forgotten, even for an hour. - -A partridge thundered up at our feet and rocketed to earth again beyond -the protecting pines. In a little glade we surprised four young rabbits -together at breakfast. The Baas laid his hand lightly on my arm. "It -is sad, monsieur, isn't it?" he said. "The poachers steal right and -left nowadays. The _gardes champetres_ are no longer armed, so the -thieves do as they will. There is more pheasant in the city markets -than chicken, and more rabbit than veal. The game will soon be gone, -like our horses and cattle. - -"You remember, monsieur, the sand dunes by Blankenberghe and Knocke on -the Belgian coast? Ah, the rabbits that used to be in those dunes! But -now the firing of cannon has driven them all away." - -A silence fell upon us both. The thickets grew denser, and we pushed -our way slowly toward the deeper coverts. I found myself thinking of -the little crosses along the seaside dunes which marked where greater -game than rabbits had fallen--the graves of men--the biggest game on -earth--the shallow pits and the frail wooden crosses, like that which -the Baas's leather boot had crushed a half hour before. - - -II--"WE FOUND A STARVING GERMAN" - -We had reached the deepest woods, when a gasping, choking cry stopped -us short. The thicket directly before us stirred and then lay still -as death. The cry had been horrible as a Banshee's wail, and as -mysterious, but it was not the cry of an animal; it was human, and it -came from a human being in agony. The Baas crossed himself swiftly and -leaped forward, and instantly we had parted the protecting bushes and -were looking down on a man lying flat on the ground--a spectre with -a thin white face, chattering teeth, enormous frightened eyes, and a -filthy, much worn German uniform. - -"What are you doing here?" I demanded. - -The soldier did not answer, he did not rise, he lay motionless and -hideous like a beast. Then I caught sight of his left ankle, enormously -swollen and wrapped in rags, and his hands--they were thin as sticks. -The man was helpless, and he was starving. - -And now came a strange thing. We two walked slowly around the man on -the ground as if he were a wild creature caught in a snare. We felt no -pity or astonishment; only curiosity. Utterly unemotionally we took -note of him and his surroundings. He had no gun, no knife, and no -blankets. He lay on some broken boughs, and he seemed to have covered -himself with boughs at night. The wild, haggard eyes turned in their -sockets and watched us as we moved, but otherwise no part of the man -stirred. He seemed transfixed, frozen in an agony of fear and horror. - -"Ashes! He has had a fire here, monsieur, but it was days ago." At the -man's feet the Baas had discovered the remnants of a little fire. "Holy -blue!" he added in astonishment, "he has eaten these!" - -A pile of small green twigs lay near the fire. The bark had been chewed -from them! - -A buzzing swarm of flies, disturbed by our investigations, rotated in -the air, and a faint, bad odor hung about the place, indescribably -stale and filthy. - -At the end of our search we turned again to the man on the ground. -"Who are you? What are you doing here?" I demanded again. There was no -answer. "Baas, have you a flask?" - -The old man slowly drew a little leather-clad bottle from his breast -pocket and passed it to me in silence. He offered it with obvious -reluctance, and watched jealously as I knelt and dropped a little -stream of liquid between the parted lips of the creature on the ground. -The man's lips sucked inward, his throat choked at the raw liquor, -he opened his mouth wide and gasped horribly for breath, his knees -twitched, and his wrists trembled as if he were dying. Then the parched -mouth tried to form words; it could only grimace. - -For a moment I felt a mad impulse to leap on that moving mouth and -crush it into stillness; such an impulse as makes a hunter wring the -neck of a wounded bird. Instead, I continued dropping the stinging -liquor and listening. - -Then came the first word. "More!" the black lips begged, and I emptied -the flask into them. The Baas sighed plaintively. "German?" the soldier -whispered. - -"No. American," I answered. - -"The other one?" - -"Belgian." - -The frightened eyes closed in evident relief. The man seemed to sleep. - -"But you?" I asked. - -"I'm German--a soldier," he said. - -"Lost?" - -"Missing." He used the German word _vermisst_--the word employed in the -official lists of losses to designate the wounded or dead who are not -recovered, and those lost by capture or desertion. - -"You understand, Baas?" - -"No, monsieur." - -"He says he is a German soldier--a deserter, I suppose, trying to make -his way over the frontier to Holland. And he is starving." - -The Baas's face became a battle-ground of emotions. His kindly eyes -glared merrily, his lips twisted until his beard seemed to spread -to twice its natural width. Instantly his face became grave again, -then puzzled, even anxious. A stream of invective and imprecation in -mingled French and Flemish poured from his troubled lips, and he -stamped his feet vigorously. - -"He can't stay here," I concluded. - -"It is death to help him," said the Baas. - -"For you, yes; for me, no. The Germans can only disgrace me as a member -of the Relief Commission. They cannot kill me." - -"He must not be left to die here, monsieur." - -"The Germans will probably search your house if we take him there." - -"He may betray us if we help him." - -"That is possible. But you see he is very weak--almost dead." - -"He may be a spy." - -"That again is possible. But see! He has eaten twigs!" - -"He is a damned pig of a German!" - -"But you do not feed even pigs on sticks and leaves." - -"I am afraid, monsieur." - -"So am I, Baas. Yet you must decide, and not I. It is much more -dangerous for you than for me." - - -III--THE DESERTER'S LAST HOUR - -We stared into each other's eyes, trying to guess each other's -thoughts. Every one in Belgium knows that the German army sows its -informers everywhere. We could not even trust each other in that -stricken country. Deserters and traitors were tracked down like dogs. -Any one who gave aid or comfort to such persons did so at the risk of -his life. It is said that pretended deserters deliberately trapped -Belgians into aiding them, and then betrayed their hosts. Something of -the sort was hinted in the famous case of Miss Edith Cavell. Knowledge, -then, bade us be cautious: instinct alone bade us be kind. - -The Baas's wide eyes turned again to the creature on the ground, and he -sighed plaintively. "Monsieur," he began, in a very low, gentle voice, -"I will help him. Give me my flask and I will go for food and drink. -Then we must plan. Does it please you to remain here?" - -"I shall stay here with him." - -"Good! I will go." - -I knelt beside the soldier and chafed his filthy hands until blood -flowed again in his dry veins. The swollen pupils of his heavy eyes -brightened. He talked continuously in a thin trickling whisper--a -patter of information about dinners he had eaten, wines he had drunk, -his military service, his hardships, and his physical and mental -sensations. I had read of victims of scurvy in the Arctic snows -dreaming and talking day and night of food, only of food. So it was -with the starving soldier. The liquor had made him slightly delirious, -and he babbled on and on. - -His broken ankle pained him. When I moved him about to rest it, his -lightness astonished me. The man had been large and heavy; he was -shrunken to a bag of bones. His uniform hung about him like a sack, and -it seemed as if the slightest jar would snap his arms and legs. Tears -welled under his heavy, dirty eyelids. "Mother! Mother!" he whispered -once. "Art thou there? Mother!" Then as his eyes again cleared and he -saw the trees interarched above him--the trees which the Baas had told -me were one spirit; the grim, silent, sepulchral trees; the haunted, -malignant trees which had wooed him with their shelter and then broken -him and starved him; the trees beneath which his forest-dwelling -ancestors had cowered for thousands of years and to which they had -offered human sacrifices--he broke down and sobbed horribly. "She is -not here! She is not here! No, she is not here!" he repeated over and -over again. - - -IV--"WE BURIED HIM IN THE PIT" - -When the Baas returned, we covered the deserter with our coats and -fed him. Perhaps we did wrong to give him food, although I think now -that he was doomed before we found him. We did our best, but it was -not enough. In less than an hour, after a horrible spell of vomiting, -the poor man was beyond all help of ours. His eyes rolled desperately, -his breath came in horrid gasps, and he grew rigid like a man in an -epileptic fit. - -We tore open the breast of his uniform to ease his labored breathing. -A metal identification disk hung on a cord from about his neck over -a chest which was like a wicker-work of ribs. His belly was sunken -until one almost saw the spinal column through it. His tortured lungs -subsided little by little, the terrifying sound of his breathing sank -to nothing, his head thrust far back and over to the right side, his -arms stiffened slowly, his mouth fell open. - -We watched, as if fascinated, the pulsing vein in his emaciated neck, -still pumping blood through a body which had ceased to breathe. The top -of the blood column at last appeared, like mercury in a thermometer. It -fell half an inch with each stroke of the famished heart. It reached -the base of the neck and sank from sight, and still we stared and -stared. The man was dead, yet I seemed to have an awful vision of -billions of sentient cells, billions of little selfish lives which had -made up his life, fighting, choking, starving to death within that -cooling clay. - -The Baas bent his head, uncovered, and crossed himself. With a quick -stooping motion, he closed the wide open eyes and straightened the bent -limbs. Then he rose to his full height and looked at me sadly. "This -man had a mother, monsieur," he said. "We must forget the rest." - -In the pit where the other German had lain we buried the body of the -deserter, and we found and repaired the little lath cross and set it up -at the grave's head. But first I took from about the neck of the corpse -the oval medallion which told the man's name and regimental number. It -was a silver medal, finer than those usually worn by privates in the -German army. I have it by me as I write, and on it is etched the brave -sentence, "God shield you from all dangers of warfare, and render you -back to us safe and victorious!" - -I was late for breakfast at the Chateau, but Van Steen kindly made room -for me at his right hand. "Aha, monsieur!" he called gaily, "we thought -you were helping to find the deserter." - -"Wha-what, monsieur le Baron?" I stuttered in amazement. - -"The German deserter. A file of soldiers woke us up at seven o'clock, -inquiring for one of their men who ran away from Mons a month ago. They -are searching the stables and the forest. They have traced him here to -our commune. I hope they catch him!" - -My fingers clutched the silver disk in my pocket. "I think they will -not catch him, messieurs. He ran away a month ago, you say?" - -"A month ago.... But it is nothing to us, eh? Let us eat our -breakfasts." The Baron bowed grandly to me. "Monsieur le Delegue," he -began in his smooth, formal voice, "once again we remind ourselves -that it is thanks to you and the generous American people that we have -bread. It is thanks to you that our noble Belgium is not starving.... -Eh bien! Let us eat our breakfasts." - -And so we did. - -(Told in the _Red Cross Magazine_.) - - - - -GRIM HUMOR OF THE TRENCHES - -_As Seen by Patrick Corcoran, of the Royal Engineers_ - - Patrick Corcoran, of the Royal Engineers, on leave in New York, - gives a picture in which the monotony of slaughter is relieved - by wagers among the men and pranks with a football as the charge - begins. Told in the _New York World_. - - -I--AN IRISHMAN TELLS HIS TALE - -"To the German soldier war is a serious business. To the Frenchman it -is sublime devotion. To the Englishman it is bully sport." - -This from Capt. Patrick Corcoran of the Royal Engineers, hero of a -dozen "Somewheres" in France, twice wounded and on permanent leave in -New York City. - -"And to the Irishman?" I asked. - -"Fighting always was the Irishman's great amusement," he said. "The -English are good sports, but they never did get the fun out of their -fun that the Irish do." - - * * * * * - -Fun in the trenches! With shells dropping all around and blowing the -bodies of your comrades into red fragments! What do the soldiers do, I -wondered, when this is happening? - -The Frenchmen sing, this captain told me. Not to keep up their courage, -but joyously, exultantly. - -"And the British?" - -"Sure, they lay bets on what the next shell will do." - - * * * * * - -"The 'sausages' are the fine toys," the captain went on. "The Boche -call 'em minnewieffers, but they look like sausages. They always come -with a series of whoops, and you can tell almost exactly where they're -going to hit. Then they sit down and rest five seconds before they -explode; they muss things up a little sometimes, but they're decent -about it. - -"But the whizz-bangs--nobody loves a whizz-bang. You can't even hear -them coming. You never have time to place a bet. They just whizz and -bang in the same breath; and if you happen to be conscious after that, -you help to bandage." - - * * * * * - -Capt. Corcoran enlisted as a private. I wondered how he came to get his -commission. - -"So did I," he said. "I was carrying despatches to different places -within our sector; couldn't go to another sector without special -orders. But one day I was asked to take a despatch to another sector -and I took it. When I came back, they made me a lieutenant. Nothing at -all had happened, and I couldn't understand it. I didn't have any pull -that I knew of; and besides, pulls don't count nowadays. - -"They told me a while later," he added, "that I was the seventh man -sent out with that despatch. The first six were killed." - - -II--"I WAS IN A CAVE ON CHRISTMAS EVE" - -It was nearing Christmas when I met Capt. Corcoran. He is a genial -and, I felt sure, a rather sentimental soul; but his matter-of-fact -conversation about matter-of-fact human slaughter was altogether -chilling. So I asked him about Christmas in the trenches. - -"I spent last Christmas at Loos," he said. Loos, one of the worst of -slaughter pens! I grew expectant. - -"I was sapping," he said. "Part of an engineer's duties are the -extension of deep underground passages toward the enemy's lines, laying -mines under 'No Man's Land' and listening, if possible, for signs of -activity on the other side. - -"I was sapping--Christmas Eve. We were down thirty-five feet, in a -little cave about nine by four. There were three of us. Along toward -midnight a big shell landed right, and we were buried. We were buried -thirteen hours. One of the boys lost his mind, but they dug us out -Christmas afternoon." - -"It wouldn't have been so bad," he added, "if we had only had to wait. -But we could hear the Boche sapping just a few feet away and we hated -like everything to be mined and blown up down there. You don't mind -it when you're out in the open air, but you get nervous in a fix like -that." - -"It must have been a merry Christmas after all--just to get out," I -remarked. - -"No," he said. "Something happened that got on my nerves. I went as -soon as I could to get my Christmas mail--wanted to see what Santa -Claus had brought--and he didn't bring me a blessed thing but a bill -for thirty pounds." - - * * * * * - -I have hoped for a reaction against war on the part of the troops--a -psychological revulsion, in time, against the long-drawn-out killing. I -tried to present my theory to the captain, but he didn't seem to grasp -it. - -"Everybody's nervous," he said, "for the first day or two--like a horse -just in from the quiet country being driven through your city streets. -But, sure, if he was going to shy at the 'Elevated,' he'd do it the -first week. After that, he gets used to the noise and he'd be nervous -without it. 'Tis so with a soldier. He's glad to get wounded for a -change, and be sent back home; but then he gets to missing the noise -of the whizz-bangs and the coal boxes and the darling little sausages, -and he isn't easy until he gets into the game again." - -"But the horrors of hand-to-hand fighting," I protested. "How can -anybody go through that and come out sane?" - -"'Tis simple," he said. "You know you've got to get your man, or he'll -get you." - -"Get him? How?" - -"With whatever you've got. Maybe your bayonet. Maybe your knife. Maybe -nothing but your fists and teeth." - -I tried to picture youths advancing under the smoke of artillery, -through fields mowed by machine guns, dropping a moment into craters -ploughed out by giant shells, creeping out under other curtains of -smoke and reaching at last that other line of youths--then the thrust, -the stab or the fight to the death with teeth and claws. I tried to -picture young husbands and fathers and lovers, and even jolly good -fellows, getting used to this--but I failed. I am an incorrigible -mollycoddle. - - * * * * * - -"What is the war doing to the soldiers?" I asked. "How is it changing -them most?" - -"Making men of them," said the captain. "They came out little -pasty-faced clerks with no lungs, no muscle, no nerve and no vision. -Now they've seen life--and death--and aren't afraid of either. They -have muscles and nerves of iron, and a man's outlook on life. They'll -never be mere clerks or mere Londoners again." - - * * * * * - -Capt. Corcoran doesn't reminisce. He doesn't romance. Getting a war -story from him is hard newspaper work; not that he isn't willing to -give information, but war conditions are no longer a novelty in Europe, -and heroes are so common that their stories are no longer interesting. -Little by little, I learned the following facts about his record, which -did not seem at all extraordinary to him: - -He fought in the battles of the Aisne, Pepereign, Festubert, Hooge, -St. Eloi, Neuve Chapelle, Loos and Pommier. He was wounded at Neuve -Chapelle, sent to England, recovered and insisted on going back. He was -wounded again at Pommier last February, two miles back of the line, -when a stray shell fragment struck him in the back. The force of it -hurled him to the ground in the midst of some barbed wire entanglements -that caught in his forehead and tore back his scalp to the crown. A -comrade clapped a cap upon his head to hold the scalp in place while he -was carried to the hospital. His recovery amazed the surgeons. - -Once he broke military rules by staying away from his billet all night. -That night a shell struck the billet and killed his partner with whom -he had been sleeping for months. - -At another time, a shell split a house in which he was installing -signal apparatus and killed half a dozen telegraph clerks with whom he -had just been talking. He was uninjured. - - -III--"EVERYBODY IS A HERO" - -"Heroes," he mused. "I suppose everybody is a hero after he has got -on to the knack of heroism. You don't call a man a hero because he -rushes fearlessly across Fifth Avenue; but to a person who has never -seen anything busier than a country road, the act looks heroic. It's -something the same with No Man's Land. I have a friend, a doctor, who -got a D.S.O. for going out on No Man's Land to bandage up some wounded -comrades. He didn't know he was doing anything heroic. They needed -care; they couldn't come in, so he went out--that's all. - -"It was different with O'Leary. He went out for the fun of the thing -and got eighteen Germans." - -The captain spoke of Private Michael O'Leary, V. C., who won the -coveted decorations for this particular joke. It happened in the sector -where Capt. Corcoran was stationed and he was well acquainted with the -details. - -"O'Leary had been betting on the 'sausages' for several days," he said, -"and he was bored. He wanted some real fun and let everybody know he -was in the mood. - -"Betcha can't go across and bring back a Boche," somebody suggested. -O'Leary sprung from the trench and went. In a second he was lost in the -darkness and in half a minute the boys heard him yelling like a demon -for help. Nobody could ever figure out how he did it--he must have -brained the sentinel and disarmed the others while they were asleep. -But there he was, with the arms of eighteen of them piled up before -him, yelling back to the British trenches to come over and get the men. -Of course, the boys answered his call and brought the whole eighteen -back to the British lines. - -"You see, the Germans, with all their efficiency, aren't used to that -kind of fighting. They're always so darn serious about it. They're -good soldiers but they don't have any fun. When they see us come over -kicking a football ahead of the charge, they don't seem to know what to -make of it. We do it sometimes, don't you know, just to add a little -novelty to the sport. - -"The war is just beginning. The Germans have a great machine and it'll -take a long while to break it. - -"As much as you people in the States have heard about German -efficiency, there has been little overestimating of it. Only one who -has seen the Germans in action can appreciate what a well-regulated -business organization they have made of war. - -"I don't know what our boys will do when it's all over; they're so used -to war that peace will probably come hard for a while. - -"Seriously, now, I don't know a soldier who is even dreaming of peace. -They didn't want war, but now that it is here, they're going to carry -it through. And they're going to have all the fun they can out of it -while it lasts." - - - - -PRIVATE McTOSHER DISCOVERS LONDON - -_Told by C. Malcolm Hincks_ - - Experiences of a Highland soldier, back from the front, while - visiting London for the first time in his life. The hero's correct - name, of course, has been suppressed in this story in the _Wide - World_. - - -I--STORY OF THE HIGHLANDER ON FURLOUGH - -He was standing on the main-line departure platform of St. Pancras -Station. Motionless, as though on guard over the bookstall, he might -have been made of the granite of his native country, and I felt sure -that his name was Sandy or Jock. - -His war-stained khaki bore traces of many ordeals undergone; even the -big, red knees were flecked with mud. Around him hung the extraordinary -medley of equipment that so thoroughly justifies the old Army axiom -that a soldier is "something to hang things on." - -A red face beamed out like a beacon from the mass of paraphernalia, a -wisp of sandy hair peeped from under the soft khaki headgear, but the -steady blue eyes glanced at me with hard suspicion as I felt for my -cigarette-case; and thinking my action might be misunderstood, I went -into the refreshment-room and dined. - -Nearly three-quarters of an hour later I emerged. It was eight o'clock, -and I had half an hour longer to wait for my train to the Midlands. I -gasped when I saw the Highlander still standing on sentry-go beside -the bookstall. Presently he shouldered his rifle and paced along the -platform. There was a clatter, and his steel helmet slipped from his -back and rolled towards me. I just saved it from going under the wheels -of a heavy luggage truck a porter was pushing along. - -The Highlander took his property with gruff word of thanks. - -"Losh, mon; it's a terrible city!" he murmured, as he placed his rifle -between his knees and groped among the multitudinous buckles and straps -on his broad back. "D'ye ken it's been my life's dream to see yon -London? Ma old mither don't believe in dreams--and I'm thinkin' she's -reet. I'll be glad when eleven o'clock comes and I'm off for bonnie -Scotland!" - -"Eleven o'clock!" I gasped. "Why, you've nearly three hours to wait, -and you were here when I arrived just after seven." - -"Aye; I've been here since four o'clock. Mon, I know this platform as -well as I know ma own wee house! I feel safer here than in yon streets." - -Having fixed his steel helmet to his satisfaction on top of the other -gear, he swung his rifle round on the sling--nearly braining an elderly -gentleman who was passing behind him in the process. Ignoring the -civilian's angry protest, he turned to me. - -"That's the sixth," he said, shortly, and a faint glimmer of amusement -came into his clear blue eyes, "the sixth thieving rascal that felt ma -rifle this day. They hang round trying to steal something from ma kit. -It's a terrible city. I've been discoverin' it all day." - -"Look here," I said, "I've half an hour to spare, and you must be -feeling hungry. I can't offer you a drink, but if you'll come and have -some hot tea or cocoa and something to eat, I'll be proud, and you can -tell me of your adventures." - -The Scot eyed me suspiciously. - -"A wee lassie made the same offer three hours since," he replied, -doubtfully. "A lassie all in furs, but I didna trust her, and I told -her so. She was after ma money or ma kit, or she wouldn't have been -so angry at having been found oot! But I'll trust ye, mon. I want a -bite of something, and if it's my adventures you want to hear, it's a -wonderful story I'll have to tell ye." - -And here is the tale he told me, though I can only indicate the broad -Scots in which he spoke. - - -II--THE SCOTCHMAN TELLS HIS OWN TALE - -For years in ma wee Inverness-shire home I'd dreamt of seeing London. -I'd never seen a city in ma life. I might have gone to Edinburgh once, -but I lost the excursion ticket I'd bought and couldna find it till -the train had gone. Ma mither had put it away for safety and forgotten -where she'd put it! I was working for Farmer Macpherson when news of -the war came, and about the end of August I was in the market-toon, -when up came a chap dressed like I am now, except that he'd only got -three stripes on his arm ... and was twisting a cane. "My lad," says -he, "don't you wish to serve your King and Country?" - -"Aye," says I, "but I'm serving Farmer Macpherson juist noo, and he and -ma mither wouldna like me changing jobs." - -Well, the sergeant had a lot to say. Mon, he was an awfu' liar, that -sergeant! Maybe he came from here; I'm thinking he did! He talked of -seeing life and of being in Berlin before Christmas. - -"Mon," I says, "I'm not fashing maself about Berlin, but if I go in the -Army shall I go to London?" - -"Of course," says he. "As soon as you're a soldier you'll go to London." - -"All reet," says I; and I sent a boy home with the pony-cart to tell -them that Jock McTosher had 'listed and was going to London. Well, I -didna go to London. I trained in various parts of Scotland, just far -enough away to miss ma home, but too close to get a real change. Then -we went to an awfu' place in Wiltshire, all mud and huts and hard work; -and then slipped across to France. I was a sad mon when I left the dock -that night. I'd thought as a soldier I'd be sure to see London, but -I'd never even seen a big town save the one we sailed from, and they -marched us through that at night, when everything was quiet, and stowed -us away in the big ship like smuggled goods. - -Well, I'd given up all hope of seeing London unless I got wounded and -was sent there, when a bit ago they told me ma name was down for a ten -days' leave! "Losh!" I says to maself, "I'll have a whole day in London -before going north!" Well, I've had it, mon, and it's been a wash-out! - -At six o'clock this morning I arrived at Victoria, and with some pals -had breakfast at a hut in the station. One of them was a Londoner, -and when the laddies left me to go to their homes, he told me to keep -straight along the street and I'd come to Westminster Abbey and the -Houses of Parliament. - -Losh! mon, I was verra disappointed with London when I stepped out into -yon street. It was quieter than the ruined wee village I'd left in -France. Well, I looked at the Abbey from the outside, but no' feeling -dressed for the kirk, I went across to the Houses of Parliament, -thinking maybe the politicians would have had their breakfast interval -and be starting again soon, as it was by then getting on for eight -o'clock. - -But the big gates were shut and there seemed no one about but a -policeman. A nice mon he was--and he knew me, too. - -"Halloa, Jock!" says he, quite friendly. "What are ye wanting?" - -"Mon," says I, "I'm having a day in London, and I want to see -the Members of Parliament and the great lords at work. Maybe the -day-shift's having breakfast and not started yet?" - -The policeman laughed as though I'd made a joke. He said the members -weren't working that day, and anyway they didn't start till the -afternoon. - -"Mon," I said, "they must make good money, or they'd never be able to -live with so much standing-off time." - -"They don't do so bad," says the policeman, with another laugh; and I -walked up a road called Whitehall, though I couldn't see anything white -about it, unless it was the faces of the wee lassies hurrying to work. -Then I went into a park and sat down and had a rest and a smoke. Maybe -I dozed for awhile, for when I got out into that same Whitehall again -something wonderful seemed to have happened. It was all noise and rush, -and I was saluting officers until my arm ached. Then I crossed the -road a bit, and after having been nearly run over twice, turned down a -side-street and lost myself. - - -III--ON THE WAY TO PICCADILLY - -Presently I saw what looked like a kindly old gentleman, and I asked -him the way to Piccadilly. - -"You'd better take the Tube," says he. "There's a station just over -there." - -"Tube!" says I, doubtful like. "What's that?" - -"An underground railway," says he, hurrying off. "You'll get to -Piccadilly Circus in a few minutes." - -He was an awfu' liar, that mon! Why, it was ten minutes before I got -ma ticket! There were penny-in-the-slot machines besides the little -windows; but I don't trust them. There seemed to be about half-a-dozen -railways running into the place, and there were maps with all the -colours o' the rainbow to show you how to get to places; but as I -didn't know where I was, or whether I was on a green or a brown line, -they didn't help me much. I looked at the pictures and I looked at -the pert lassies in uniform clippin' tickets an' all. I didn't like -bothering them with questions, but at last I got to a window and asked -for Piccadilly. - -"Penny," says the girl. - -"Aye," says I, and I put down ma rifle, not meaning to hurt the foot of -the fussy mon behind me. "Is there any reduction for a return?" says I, -having been brought up never to waste the bawbees. - -"No," she snapped. "Penny's the fare. Hurry up, please!" - -"Yes, do," growled out the mon behind, hopping about on one foot and I -saw it was true about a crowd quickly gathering in London--for just in -the little time I'd been talking there were dozens of people waiting in -a line. - -"I'll have to get at ma purse," says I, starting to search ma pockets. -"Losh! I believe I have it in ma pack! Will ye give us a hand with -these straps, laddie?" - -"Oh, I'll pay your fare," says the man behind me; and no doubt he -meant it kindly, though his way was rough. Well, I puts ma ticket in -ma pocket and walks a little way. Then one of the wee lassies with -clippers stops me and wants ma ticket. - -"Hold ma rifle, lassie," says I, "so as I can get it." - -Seeing how unsociable everyone else seemed, I spoke kindly to the -lassie and told her I hoped she liked the job and her mither approved -and all. But maybe, knowing Londoners, she didna trust any mon; anyway, -the C.O. with a bad attack of liver couldn't have told me off much -sharper; and there was a crowd behind charging at me just like a game -of football! - -Mon, I'm not surprised that these Londoners make good soldiers! A man -that could take that Tube every day of his life would think the first -line of trenches restful! Down a sort of underground tunnel I walked; -then suddenly I came to the funniest staircase I'd ever seen. I should -have stopped to stare at the rumbling, snarling thing, but people from -behind pushed me, and all of a sudden there was somethin' wrong with ma -feet, and I found myself carried forwards. While I was looking about me -steps formed before my eyes, and I gave a yell and clutched out to save -myself. - -Now mind ye, mon, I'm a respectable young chap; ma feyther was elder at -the kirk and ma mither's always warned me to treat lassies with proper -respect. - -I didna know it was a lassie's waist I clutched hold of when I went -down with a crash, ma rifle clattering and those awfu' stairs sliding -downwards all the time. When I pulled myself together I saw that I'd -dragged down with me a very pretty lassie, and she was sitting on ma -knee! She was wearing one of those terrible short skirts, and there -before my eyes was about a yard of silk stockings; but the lassie -jumped to her feet just as I was going to shut ma eyes. - -She was quite nice aboot it, mind ye--the only nice Londoner I'd -met. She was flushed-up like, and confused, as anybody would be on -that awfu' livin' staircase, but she helped me to get to ma feet and -collect ma kit. It wasn't her fault, moreover, that I fell down again -in getting off that movin' contraption. I thought I was going to be -carried doon the crack where it disappeared, and what with marking time -and trying to step off with both feet at once I came down again with -another crash. I blocked the passage-way for a minute or two, and the -poor Londoners, with never a second to spare, were clambering all over -me. Do they get paid by the minute? - -When I'd picked maself up and seen that nothing was missing, the dainty -little lassie had disappeared. I was sorry, for, although I've been -taught to be cautious of women, she was certainly verra nice, and no -weight at all on ma knee. - - -IV--"I'VE WALKED THE SEWERS OF LONDON" - -Finding myself alone, I set off up a tunnel. Presently I came to a -notice--"Exit by Stairs." I didna know what "exit" meant, but I knew -all about those terrible conjuring-trick stairs, and so I turned back -and tried another tunnel. Seeing a lot of people going into a little -room, I followed them. I gave ma ticket to another lassie, but she was -so busy love-making to a bit of a boy that she took it without so much -as a glance at it or me. There were advertisements in the room, and -sort of sliding doors at each end of it. "It's a waiting-room," says I -to maself; and thinking there might be some time before a train came -and they opened the other door, I lit a "fag." Very wisely, I saw, -they'd put up "Beware of Pickpockets," so I kept my eyes about me. - -"No smoking!" barks the lassie; and she came into the room, closing the -other gates behind her. - -I was just going to argue with her, when all of a sudden the room -started to move upwards. Losh! mon, it gave me an awfu' turn! I yelled -out, and a man standing next to me laughed--anyway, he laughed till -I turned round and ma rifle knocked against his head. Then, before I -knew what had happened, the other gates swung open in a ghostly way. -Mon, I'll swear there was no one to open them! I drew in a breath -of fresh air, thinking I'd got to Piccadilly but, if you'll believe -me, I'd walked the sewers of London and _come out at place where I'd -entered_! And that old man said the "Tube" was an underground railway! -Underground maze, I call it! I walked to Piccadilly after that; I was -afraid of spending the rest of ma leave down there. - -I have no doot that Piccadilly is gay enough. But I was feeling tired -and hungry the noo there were officers thick as flies after jam; and -there didn't seem room for me and ma kit on the pavement. And the -lassies! Never have I seen such clothes, and some of 'em had enough fur -on them to make twenty goatskin waistcoats. It's a queer thing, though, -but all of them seemed to have their clothes too short for them; -ma mither would have been horrified. They looked at me as if I was -something out of a show, and I began to feel nervous. "Losh!" I says to -maself, "I'll have a bit of dinner. I'll do maself well." So I walked -into a restaurant, after dodging a naval officer who was standing at -the entrance and seemed to have something to do with the place. As -soon as I got in I saw I'd made a mistake, and I'd have retired at the -double, but a foreigner in evening dress, with about four square feet -of starched shirt on him, came rushing up quite excited. - -"You can'd sdop here," says he. "Dis blace is for ladies and gendlemen." - -"Mon," says I, "there's many a rule made to be broken, or you wouldna -be here." - -"I'll haf no insolence!" he cries, going very red. "You go to a common -restaurant. We do not serve your sort here." - -That roused what ma mither calls the devil in me. - -"Mon," says I, catching him by the collar, "I've been killing the -likes of you for the past sixteen months. The only difference is that -they wore a grey uniform, instead of that fancy dress of yours. Say -'kamerad' and bring me some sausages and mashed and a pint of beer, or -you'll be the thirteenth I've finished off at close quarters, and that -might be unlucky for both of us!" - -"The Scotsman's quite right," piped a pretty voice; and I felt fair -frightened. The whole place was in an uproar. Ma rifle--an awkward -thing is a rifle--had knocked over a chair, and a young Brass Hat -(Staff officer) who was sitting at a table with the girl with the -pretty voice, came over. I had to let the other chap go, so as to -salute. - -"This won't do, you know," says Brass Hat, very severe; but the pretty -lassie frowned at him, and he looked a bit awkward. "Confound you, you -fool!" says he, very fierce, to the man in evening dress. "The young -lady wants this man to lunch with us!" - - -V--"AND I WENT TO THE CINEMA" - -I can't quite remember what happened after that. I should have liked to -have fed with that lassie, for her eyes sparkled like stars, and as the -Brass Hat was afraid of her it showed she was worth knowing. Still, she -wasn't my lassie, but his, and he mightn't have liked it, so I started -to retire. The Brass Hat gave me half a crown and said something about -being quite as keen on killing the waiter as I was; and then I found -myself out in Piccadilly again. It was some time before I found a -little pub where I got a good dinner, with beer, for eighteenpence. I -will say that for Londoners, mon, they do throw money aboot. Within an -hour or so I'd had a railway fare paid and been stood a good dinner. -But they take so much more out of you than what they give you, that's -my grievance. - -Well, having had a good dinner, I strolled along for a bit, and then I -thought I'd have a motor-bus ride. As I was standing on the pavements -a 'bus stopped alongside me. Mon, I blushed and turned away ma head. - -There, on the wee platform at the end, stood a lassie in a blue kilt -shorter than mine and high-top boots. Ma little sister wears longer -skirts! She was a brown, curly-haired lassie, quite twenty years old, -with a funny-shaped hat on her head and a cheeky smile on her lips. - -"Want the Bank, Sandy?" says she. - -"Lassie," says I, "war's a terrible thing! Go hame to your mither and -ask her to lengthen your kilt!" - -"Kilt, indeed!" says the hussy, unabashed. "You're out of date, old -boy!" And she jerked the bell and the 'bus went off. She waved to me -from the stairs, but, of course, I took no notice. By now I was tired -of London, mon; I wanted a little peace. Coming to a cinema, I paid -saxpence at a little ticket-office and went through a hall that was all -mahogany and plush, with a sort of field-marshal in full dress sweeping -the marble floor. A lassie with a torch pulled a curtain on one side, -and I saw a man falling into a river with a motor-car chasing him. Then -the lights went up, and I saw I'd paid saxpence just to stand. I said -I'd been swindled, but the people round only cried "Hush!" and then the -lights went out again and some letters came up on the screen--"The Big -Advance on the Somme." - -Mon, when you've been dodging shells and bullets for sixteen months, -and ruins and broken trees are the only sort of scenery you've seen, -you don't want to have "Big Advances" thrown at you on the pictures. -I think I began a speech, and I'm sure it would have been a fine one, -but things happen so sudden in London. I saw a shell coming over--on -the film, ye ken--and I ducked from force of habit and jostled one or -two people. In the excitement I upset a pretty lassie who picked up ma -helmet--it was in the dark, ye see--and then I was put out. I wanted to -go, or else they'd never have done it. After that---- Oh, is that your -train, mon? - -"I should have liked to hear the remainder of your adventures in -London, Jock," I said, leaning out of the carriage window. - -"There weren't any more," replied Jock, gazing suspiciously round him. -"I came straight here after that. I've had enough of London. I've only -three hours to wait the noo! I'll be feeling a wee-bit lonely, but----" - -The train moved away suddenly. I saw the brawny man in khaki take up -his position by the bookstall, now closed. I waved to him, but he had -turned to granite again. Private McTosher had discovered London! - - - - -RUSSIAN COUNTESS IN THE ARABIAN DESERT - -_Adventures of Countess Molitor as Told in Her Diary_ - - -I--ON THE GREAT ARABIAN DESERT - -One of the most striking of all the numberless enterprises of one kind -and another which have been brought to naught by the war was the plan -of a young, rich and beautiful Russian countess to unveil the secrets -of one of the earth's last unexplored and admittedly most dangerous -regions--the great Desert of Arabia, called by the tribesmen who live -on its fringe "The Dwelling of the Void," a region that is three times -as large as Great Britain, and upon which no European foot is yet known -to have been set. - -The young widow of a wealthy Russian nobleman, whose estates were in -the neighborhood of Moscow, Countess Molitor's life had been full of -thrilling experiences even before she made her plan to go, without any -European companion, and conquer the unexplored Ruba-el-Khali. - -Previously she had wandered, with only a small escort of native -bearers, through savage Southwest Africa, and had been captured there -and held for ransom by native torturers. She had adventured, too, -among the savage Tuaregs of the Saharan Desert, known as the most -bloodthirsty tribe on earth; had crossed the Alps in a balloon, made -between sixty and seventy flights in aero and water planes, been -attacked and kept prisoner by Apaches in Paris, had nursed in the -hospitals of Europe and taken part in rescue work in the slums of -London. - -Of the remarkable experiences that have befallen the plucky countess -since then I am now able to tell as the result of having, to begin -with, received several lengthy letters from her at Cartagena, in Spain, -where she has been living for some months, and, more recently, having -been privileged to read the mightily interesting and vividly written -journal that she kept from the moment of her arrival at Port Said. - -Had it not been for the war, it is extremely probable that the countess -would have accomplished her project, which would have pushed her into -the front rank of successful explorers. She carried out, it seems, her -original intention, a venturesome one, indeed, for a white woman, of -joining a Bedouin tribe and traveling with them, and had covered over -nine hundred miles of her journey when she was caught in the Turkish -mobilization and arrested, on suspicion of being a Russian spy, by -the Moslems, who, from the beginning had frowned on her project and -attempted to prevent it. Bitterly disappointed at being thus defeated -just when the chance of success seemed rosiest, the countess was -brought back as a prisoner to Damascus. There she had the narrowest -escape of being shot for supposed espionage, and it was only after -months of surveillance and affronts that she finally was permitted to -return to Europe. - - -II--GUEST OF A BEDOUIN SULTAN - -Though she failed to get across the Arabian Desert, the countess, -previous to her arrest, had some of the strangest and most picturesque -experiences that ever have befallen a white woman. Probably no other -European woman has traveled, as she did, for weeks on end as the -honored guest of a Bedouin Sultan (who insisted on believing her to -be a sister of the Czar of Russia), living the nomadic life of the -tribe and riding on camel-back, nor lived, as did the countess, all by -herself, in the heart of old-world Damascus, an experiment that does -not commend itself even to the foreign consuls. What she saw of the -brutalities of the Turkish mobilization alone makes as thrilling a tale -as any that has been told since the war began. - -Meanwhile the countess has been the victim of an astonishing accident, -as a result of which she is still chary about using her right arm. - -"One day here at Cartagena," she writes, "while swimming some distance -out at sea, I was followed and attacked by a big dolphin. Luckily an -officer at the fortress had seen it, and he fired on the dolphin. But -before killing him, one bullet went through my right arm! I must say in -fairness to the dolphin that it really was not he who first attacked -me. I saw him following me, and I thought I could have a little ride -on his back, knowing that dolphins are good-natured, as a rule. But he -misunderstood my attentions and turned on me, and, had not the second -shot been fired an instant later, I should have been lost." - -The countess made the journey to Beyrout via Port Said. - -From Beyrout she went by train to Damascus (a day's journey), where she -had planned to live for a time and improve her knowledge of Arabic, -which is one of the six languages which she speaks, before setting out -for the desert. To begin with, she put up at the only European hotel in -this famous city of the East, and found its proprietor to be a strange -character, indeed. Untidy of person and appallingly rude in manner, "he -reigned there," writes the countess, "with absolute despotism. This -his monopoly of the European hotel business in Damascus enabled him to -do, as the Arab hostelries are impossible for foreigners. - -"Here is a little example of his delightful ways. One day an English -visitor asked for a bath and, as answer, was told to get his luggage -ready and leave the hotel in two hours' time, as his hotel had no -room for people who were dirty enough to need a bath! It seemed to be -a special passion and sport of his to turn people out of his hotel, -and any one to whom he took the smallest dislike was ejected without -the slightest consideration. Those who won his favor, however, he -entertained with jokes and stories worthy of an old pirate!" - -She met both the English and Russian consuls, who placed themselves at -her service and introduced her to other Europeans likely to advise her -wisely in the matter of engaging her caravan and getting acquainted -with friendly Arab chiefs, who would be able to give her a certain -amount of protection at the outset of her journey, and eventually she -found an old Syrian woman willing to let her house and act as cook and -general factotum. - - -III--UNDER ESPIONAGE IN DAMASCUS - -And so she settled down, and from this time, the early days of May, -until when in June she began her journey the countess, with no other -protector than old Sitt Trusim, as her bent and shriveled landlady, who -proved to be the most capable of spies, was called, lived the life of -a Syrian woman of the upper class, wearing the native dress, smoking -the nargileh, studying Arabic diligently and always dreaming of what -would happen when she was alone with her camels and the Arabs under the -desert stars. - -The pages of the journal she kept during those months are reminiscent -of "Kismet" and the "Thousand and One Nights," for where the countess -willed to go she went, regardless of whether it was precisely safe -to do so or not. And adventures she had in plenty. For while keeping -nominally in touch with her European acquaintances on the hill of -Sahiye, outside Damascus, she found her chief delight in wandering -through the bazaars and the quaint streets of this enchanted city of -minarets and in riding on horseback through the surrounding country in -the cool of the evening. Once while thus doing she was attacked, as she -had been warned she would be, by a couple of robbers, who possessed -themselves of all the money she had, but missed her small Browning -pistol, which, Bedouin fashion, she carried in her riding boot, and -with this she eventually cowed them and made her escape. - -It was soon made plain to the countess that all her movements were -painstakingly reported to the Turkish authorities, though the Vali, -or Governor, consistently posed as her friend. She had by no means -agreeable experiences, too, owing to the jealousy of certain Syrian -families, whose pressing invitations to various ceremonials she had -been obliged to decline, while accepting those of others and immensely -enjoying the impressive and occasionally screamingly funny rites which -she witnessed as their guest. One of these hosts of hers, by the -way, was the proud possessor of the only bath in Damascus. More than -one attempt was made to lure Countess Molitor to places where it was -undoubtedly intended to ill-treat if not actually to make away with -her. I will let her tell of one of these plots. - -"To-day Sitt Trusim brought me a letter addressed in unknown -handwriting. Before opening it I asked her who brought it. She tells -me that a man delivered it, whom, after questioning him, she found out -to be deaf and dumb. I read the letter, which was an invitation from -a lady asking me to visit her and her daughters this afternoon. She -complained that I had given preference to her friends by visiting them, -and said that she would send her man-servant to bring me at 5 o'clock. -I don't know why this letter aroused my suspicions. Perhaps on account -of the mysterious deaf and dumb messenger. - -"I sent for Vadra Meshaak (a friend's dragoman) to come to me, -and showed him the letter quite carelessly, without mentioning my -suspicions. He at once declared that it was written by a man and not -by a woman and became very serious and angry, feeling sure that there -was some treason behind it. At 5 o'clock the man was to come and fetch -me. Well, he (Vadra) would dress up in my Arab costume, which in its -largeness covers the whole figure, and go with the man and find out who -the writer of the letter was. If it really was a woman he could explain -his disguise as a joke. But he absolutely feared foul play! So in the -afternoon we sent Sitt Trusim on an errand to the farthest end of the -town, and I arranged Vadra Meshaak to look like a Syrian lady. - -"Punctually at 5 o'clock the mysterious deaf-and-dumb man knocked at -the door, and Vadra Meshaak opened it and went away with him. I had not -been alone a quarter of an hour till he was back again, all fury and -excitement. After he had calmed down a little I heard his story! He -had followed the man to a house in the inner court where three Turks, -very well known to Vadra Meshaak, were getting up to pounce upon him. -He did not leave them any time to talk, but gave each of them a heavy -blow in the face, and before they could realize what had happened he -had disappeared again. - -"They must have thought me a very fine pugilist! What their intrigue -against me had been we shall never know. Vadra thinks that they -probably meant to keep me in their house by force over night and then -afterward report that I was a woman of no character and thus get me -expelled." - -At the outset of the arrangements for the journey she was fortunate -in getting acquainted with an old Arab Sheik, Mahmoud Bassaam, who -had previously traveled with the Arabian lady explorer, Miss Bell, -and was known to be entirely trustworthy. He had spent virtually all -his life with the Bedouin and, as a camel dealer, had accumulated -what was regarded in the East as a large fortune; yet he consented to -accompany the countess (whose personal charm generally prevails, not -only with men, but with her own sex, too), and took charge of all the -arrangements for her journey, including the buying of camels and outfit. - -"My idea," the countess writes in her diary, "is to join the Roalla -tribe at Palmyra and make friends with their Sultan, as they are one of -the greatest and richest tribes in all Arabia. Once friends with the -Roalla I intend to travel with them, move with them through the inner -deserts southward and, arrived south, I hope to be able to interest the -Sultan and induce him to cross the Ruba-el-Khali with me. Because I -think this is only possible for a great tribe, with all their herds of -camels and sheep. On my journey with him I shall try my utmost to fire -his imagination and to rouse his enthusiasm for the exploration of the -great desert." - -As her dragoman, the countess had an American university graduate, -one Doctor Kahl, a Syrian, "well educated, serious and clever," who -also had spent many years with the tribes of Arabia, but who, when -introduced to the countess by Sheik Mahmoud Bassaam, had a lucrative -practice as a dentist in Damascus. - - -IV--ACROSS DESERT ON CAMEL CARAVAN - -It was on the fifth of June that she set out, secretly, for fear that -the Turkish authorities at Damascus would oppose her if they knew of -her intentions. Allowing it to be supposed that she was merely going -for a ride on horseback, she met her American-taught dragoman on the -outskirts of Damascus, and rode with him to Adra, on the fringe of the -desert, where Mahmoud Bassaam and her caravan (eight camels and camel -men, an Arabian cook and a guide) were awaiting her. - -It was in September, after they had traveled for more than 900 miles -through the desert in company with the Sultan Al Tayar and his -followers that the first echoes of the European war reached these -travelers. - -In the meanwhile the Countess who, from first to last, was treated -as a guest of the highest distinction by the Sultan (to whom she had -been presented by Mahmoud Bassaam) had been able to revel to the full -in the dreamy "_dolce far niente_" existence which she had so often -pictured to herself. She had become familiar with all the customs and -observances of the Bedouins--she had even witnessed a pitched battle -between her hosts and an enemy tribe--and had learned to eat with her -fingers as they did without discomfort. By some means the impression -that she was a sister of the Czar of Russia had become fixed in the -minds of these tribesmen, and when the Countess wished to disabuse them -of it, the Sultan dissuaded her, hinting that it was all to the good. - -It was while crossing the Dahma Desert and heading for the wells of -Wadi-al-Mustarri that a small Arab tribe brought them the tidings that -Turkish soldiers were scouting the country, and that at Hail great -demonstrations and assemblies of Turks and Arabs had taken place. And, -on arriving at Jilfi, a small trading town, a few days later they -learned that a European war had broken out, though between whom nobody -knew. - -At Jilfi the countess was arrested, a paralyzing blow for her, -considering that she had covered more than half the distance to the -Ruba-el-Khali, and that another two months would have found her on -its borders, and that she had succeeded in winning the Sultan to the -venture of attempting to cross it. He and his chiefs, who first wished -to resist, parted from their guest with keen sorrow, and the Sultan -presented her, as his parting gift, with a magnificent emerald, of -which, however, she was robbed while being brought back as a prisoner -and ill with fever to Damascus. There the Turkish authorities greeted -her with soft words, declaring that they had acted only for her safety, -but, though she was allowed to go free and to live in her own house, -she was aware all the time that she was carefully watched. - - -V--HELD PRISONER--ESCAPE TO EGYPT - -The account which she gives of the Turkish mobilization in the days -that immediately followed is graphic enough: "Soldiers armed to the -teeth pass," she writes, "driving before them villagers to be enlisted. -The boys all look terrified. Patriotism means nothing to them; they -loathe their Government and are frightened to death at the thought of -becoming Turkish soldiers, who are treated like dogs. Those who can, -fly and hide themselves in the mountains. At present the Lebanon is -full of such fugitives, and, being very desperate and nearly mad with -fright and hunger, they are quite dangerous to meet. I am told they -hide like animals in the grass and bushes and live on wild cucumbers. -Poor things." - -Then German officers arrived on the scene and things grew rapidly -worse. "The commandeering in town," writes the countess, "is rapidly -bringing about the utter financial ruin of many families. To-day -every house was ordered to provide a hundred blankets or to pay a sum -equivalent to their value. Those who cannot comply are thrown into -prison. From the store at which I buy my provisions they have taken -$2,500 worth of rice, sugar and coffee, the poor man's entire stock, -without paying him a penny or even giving him a receipt. He is ruined. -From another store they have taken carpets and rugs valued at $1,000 -which are, I am told, destined for the private households of the -officers! The same is, no doubt, the destination of $1,500 worth of -ladies' silk stockings, linen and dresses, which were also commandeered! - -"A commission visited the manager of a firm of automatic pistols and -took away 800 without paying for them, leaving the rest. Two days later -the manager was arrested, under the pretext that he had purposely -hidden the arms which the commission had not taken. They put him into -prison, and only after a week's incarceration, his family having paid -L50 to the Government, was released. Meanwhile he has not had a receipt -for his guns." - -Eventually the countess managed to escape from Damascus to Bayreuth, -where she had hoped to find a friend in the Vali, or Governor, there, -who had treated her with great consideration at the time of her arrival -in Syria. Upon instructions from Damascus, however, he kept her a -virtual prisoner, and when later her trunks were examined and the -photographs and notes she had made while on her expedition discovered -she was in imminent danger of being shot as a Russian secret agent. The -Russian consul, who was himself in danger and had made one fruitless -effort to escape, was unable to assist her. - -She found her best friends, then, in the officers of the American -men-of-war _North Carolina_ and _Tennessee_, which were lying off the -town. They gave her good counsel and helped to keep her spirits up. -After some weeks of agonizing uncertainty it was decided that the -countess should merely be expelled from the country, and she was given -an hour to get aboard of a vessel which was sailing for Egypt. - - - - -GERMAN STUDENTS TELL WHAT SHERMAN MEANT - -_Three Confessions from German Soldiers_ - -_Told by Walther Harich, Wilhelm Spengler and Willie Treller_ - - What the educated German soldier thinks about the war, how he is - affected by the strain and the brutalities and the heroisms of life - consequent of it, is described with a fresh, powerful vividness - in a book of war letters from German students issued under the - editorship of Professor Philipp Witkop, of Freiburg ("Kriegsbriefe - Deutscher Studenten"). Translations of some of the impressions on - the German youth are here presented. - - -I--"DRIVEN TO DEATH BY ME" - -Of the worst of all I have not written.... It is not the slaying, not -the mounds of dead, which we are always passing, and not the wounded -(they have the morphine needle and they lie quiet and peaceful in the -straw of the requisitioned peasant carts). To me the worst is the -distress and suffering to which man and beast are constantly subjected -by the terrible strain. We have just buried my first mount, a glorious -animal, virtually driven to his death. Driven to death by me! Can you -imagine that a person as peaceable as I could find it possible to drive -a horse to death with whip and spurs? - -There is no help for it. The word is forward--always forward! - -Oh, this everlasting driving on! - -One stands beside a team that can go no further and compels the -drivers, with kindness or threats, to force the impossible out of the -horses. The poor animals are all in, but one grabs the whip himself and -mercilessly beats away at the miserable beasts till they move again. -That is the shocking thing--that one is constantly compelled to make -demands upon the poor animals to which they are not equal. Everything -here is beyond one's strength. The impossible is made possible. It must -go--till something or other breaks. - -Or picture this to yourself: Shaken with fever and with burning eyes, a -boy comes to me, whimpering--he can endure no more--and I ride into him -and drive him back to the front. Can you picture that? But it must be! - -Everything here is beyond one's strength. My God! We ourselves must -do impossible things. But can one demand that of the others? We know -that the struggle is for the German idea in the world--that it is to -defend German understanding, German perception against the onslaught -of Asiatic barbarism and Romanic indifference. We know what is on the -cards if we do not do our utmost. - -But the men? How often since we came to this God-forsaken region did -we tell ourselves that it was impossible to go forward at night. It is -really impossible. And then came an order--an order which could not be -carried out during the day, so it went at night. It went because it -must. Because "the order" is the great unavoidable--something that must -be carried out--Fate, the all-determining. We know what "the order" -means now! It is that which gives our people the ascendancy over the -whole world. - - WALTHER HARICH. - - -II--HORRORS OF "NO MAN'S LAND" - - Near Maricourt, December 17, 1914. - -Soon after 11 we were awakened by the retiring sentries. As tired as -dogs though we were, we crawled out into the open. It was still raining -wet strings--a cold, ugly December night; not a star to be seen. Every -once in a while the sound of a shot came to us from the other side of -the stream. - -"You," remarked Hias suddenly, "listen! Hear anything?" - -"What do you mean?" - -"Now." - -It was a long, wailing cry for help. I could hear it distinctly. - -"There is a poor devil out there, wounded," said Hias. - -Great heavens--in this weather! And he must have been lying there -without help since early yesterday. - -He couldn't be in the wood anywhere, for we had gone through that -thoroughly. Perhaps he had been caught by a shrapnel splinter during -the retreat across the field. Well, what was it to us? Let his comrades -get him. He must be just a few meters from the French trenches, anyhow. - -Released at 1, we went back to our tents to get some sleep, cursing the -French who left their comrade to perish so miserably. - -At 3 the next afternoon, when I went on duty again, the poor devil -was still calling for help, keeping it up all day. We could not help; -we did not see him. And to expose ourselves to the French was a -proceeding not to be lightly recommended. It was a horrible feeling to -be condemned thus to inaction while a wounded soldier called for help. - -When the wind changed one could hear the poor devil whimper and weep -and then suddenly rouse himself and send out a call for help, "Oh, la, -la!" - -Why didn't the French take him away? There was no danger. We could not -shoot, for we saw nothing. And we had no intention of doing that. I was -glad when my hour was up. - -At 8 o'clock I was at my place again with Hias. The poor Frenchman was -whining more pitiably than ever. For half an hour we listened; then -Hias lost his patience. - -"What a tribe of pigs," he broke out, "to leave a comrade to die like -a dog! He can't last much longer." - -"Well, Hias," I said, "what can we do? I am sorry for him myself, but -there is no help. He must die." - -After a few minutes a terrible scream: "Oh, la, la, la, la!" pierced -the night. Then there was quiet. God be praised! Now he is dead and at -peace, I thought. And quietly I repeated a few prayers for his soul. -But after a while we heard his cry again. - -"Well, it's enough now," exclaimed Hias. "I can't stand this any -longer. I'm going to get him, with or without permission." He spoke and -disappeared. - -In a minute his brother took his place at my side, while he himself -ran up to the trenches. He was back in about ten minutes. He had the -permission. The lieutenant also was going and asked if I would come -along, as I knew something of first aid and could speak a little French. - -When we got to the lieutenant three more men, splendid fellows, on whom -one could rely, had volunteered. In a twinkling we had gathered tent -cloth, side arms and saws and were running singly across the meadow. Of -course, the sentries were notified that we were out in front. - -We entered the wood. While two men worked with knives and saws to cut a -way through, the others held themselves ready for anything that might -develop. We stumbled over bodies, weapons and knapsacks. At last I -found a little path which the French had made a few days previously. - -I rested a while and was just about to return to my comrades when a -hand gripped my foot. Great God, I was frightened! For a second I was -paralyzed; then, tearing out my sword-- - -"Pitie! pitie!" - -Some one under my feet was whining for mercy. My teeth chattered. I -could hardly move or answer. - -"Oh, m'sieur camarade; pitie! pitie!" - -Suddenly the lieutenant appeared and I found my control again. Getting -down on my knees, I carefully groped for the body. - -"Look out now," whispered the lieutenant. "It may be a trap." - -"Give me your hand," I ordered the Frenchman. A cold, moist, trembling -hand was put into mine. - -"Where is your weapon?" I asked. He had lost it as he pulled himself -along till he was exhausted. - -Suddenly from somewhere near we heard the horribly familiar call, "Oh, -la! la!" - -"Well, now," said the lieutenant, "we have one man, but not the right -one." - -I asked the wounded one whether we would be seen if we tried to get the -other man. - -"_Oui, mon brave camarade, Allemand._" The lieutenant hesitated, but -resolved nevertheless to go on. - -One man remained behind with the Frenchman--a corporal, he said he -was--with orders to stab him instantly if he called for help while we -were working our way through the brush. We came to the edge of the wood -at last and peered out. - -We could make out the forms of many black objects--dead men, killed so -near their own trenches, too! Hias was beside me, and with his sharp -peasant eyes soon espied the body of the poor fellow we were after. -The lieutenant crawled out, and we followed. Coming up to him, I called -softly, "_Camarade!_" I did not want to frighten him; besides, he might -scream for help, then we would be in a nice fix. - -"Oh, oh, _Dieu! Dieu!_" he breathed and emitted sounds like the joyful -whining of a puppy when he saw me. - -He grasped my hand and pressed it to his breast and cheek. - -I felt him over carefully. As I fumbled along his left leg I received -a sudden shock. Just below the calf it ended. The foot was torn off -above the angle and hung loosely on the leg. As his whole body was -wet I could not tell whether he was still bleeding. I could only make -out that a rag was tied about the wound. He had bandaged it with his -handkerchief, as I learned later. - -We soon had him beside his comrade. - -The lieutenant went back to his command, leaving the rest to me. The -others carried the corporal away to the nearest aid station, while I -remained with his comrade, who, as he lay there, softly spoke to me -about himself--his wife and his child--of the mobilization. This was -his first day at the front. Fate had overtaken him swiftly. He was a -handsome man, with big, black eyes, dark hair and mustache. His pale, -bloodless face made him doubly interesting. His voice was so tender and -soft that I was touched; I could not help it. I gently stroked him: -"_Pauvre, pauvre camarade Francais!_" - -"Oh, monsieur, _c'est tout pour la patrie_." - -I lay down and nestled up close to him and threw my coat over him, for -he was beginning to shiver with fever and frost. Then it began to rain -very softly. So we lay one-half, three-quarters, a whole hour. At last, -after one and a half hours, the comrades returned. - -My poor wounded one was crying softly to himself. - -He was soon in the hands of a physician and an attendant. His wounds -were looked after and he was given some cold coffee. - -I had to go. - -A look of unutterable gratefulness, which I shall never forget, a nod: -"_Bonne nuit, monsieur_," and I was outside in the cold, damp December -night. - - WILHELM SPENGLER. - - -III--A BELGIAN MOTHER AND HER BABE - - Ingelmuenster, November, 1914. - -In Fosses, near Namur, I happened to be the only physician in the -place, as all the doctors had fled. So it came about that the first -prescriptions that I have ever written were in the French language. It -was rather odd, but it went. The sixty-five-year-old apothecary and I -have opened many good bottles of Burgundy in his bachelor apartment -while he told of his student days in Geneva and Brussels; I of Germany -and its glories. - -One time I was called to a village an hour distant to the help of a -young mother. And it may have presented a curious and unforgettable -spectacle to the Belgian peasants when after two hours' hard work the -"_jeune docteur Allemand_," shirt-sleeved, armed and girt with a woman's -apron, presented the young mother with a tiny, howling Belgian, while -outside the guns thundered in the distance, killing perhaps hundreds -and hundreds of other Belgians. - - WILLY TRELLER. - -(Translations by Julian Bindley Freedman for the _New York Tribune_.) - - - - -BAITING THE BOCHE--THE WIT OF THE BELGIANS - -_Told by W. F. Martindale_ - - The people of Brussels have always been noted for a very pretty - turn of wit. On the other hand, not even his best friends have - ever accused the German of possessing a sense of humor. With the - "Boches" in possession of Brussels, it is easy to forecast that the - Bruxellois would find them fair game. This amusing story shows how - the citizens have "got their own back" on the invaders, as related - in the _Wide World_. - - -I--STORY OF M. MAX--BURGOMASTER - -No one ever suspected the German mind of possessing a sense of humour. -But that it should prove such easy--and fair--game as Teutonic -behaviour in the course of the war has shown it to be is more than -the most maliciously satirical could ever have hoped. In turn, and -according to their several temperaments, the Allied nations have -indulged their wit at the expense of the Boche. The British have guyed -him with an almost affectionate contempt; the French have sacrificed -him with a wholly contemptuous hatred, and the rest have all scored off -him in turn. - -But it has been left to the Belgians, and more particularly the -citizens of Brussels, to elevate the pleasing pastime of Boche-baiting -into a fine art. The heaviest harness has its weak joints, and the -comedies enacted during the German occupation of the Belgian capital -have shown that even the mailed fist is not proof against the -penetrating shafts of ridicule and wit. - -For a contest of wit _versus_ mere force the Bruxellois were well -equipped. They have long enjoyed a reputation for a wit peculiarly -their own, a blend of English levity and French irony, and they have -had the advantage of a victim who positively, as the phrase goes, "asks -for it." Moreover, a brilliant lead was set them. The exploits of M. -Max, the dauntless Burgomaster of Brussels, will live long in the -annals of war, for his courageous wit well matched the spirit of the -troops which at Liege dared to confront and dispute the passage of the -German legions. - -When the Germans marched into the undefended city, doing their utmost -to make their entry as humiliating as possible to the inhabitants, M. -Max went to meet their commander as calmly as though he were paying an -ordinary official call. The Prussian general informed him that he would -be held responsible for the good behaviour of the citizens and their -instant obedience to every order of the conquerers. The Burgomaster -knew very well what that meant--that he would be shot out of hand, as -other mayors had been, if anyone dared to lift a finger against the -Germans. But he received the news with a smiling face, and assured the -commandant that all necessary steps had already been taken for the -maintenance of public order. Then he went back to his office, showing -a courage and calmness in a most difficult situation that delighted -his fellow-countrymen, and even invoked the grudging admiration of the -enemy. - - -II--HOW HE OUTWITTED THE PRUSSIANS - -Some of the stories told concerning the worthy magistrate's prowess -are probably fiction, but others rest upon good foundation. For -instance, when M. Max was summoned to confer with the German commander, -the latter ostentatiously laid his revolver on the table--just one -of those characteristic little actions that have made the invaders -so cordially hated everywhere. It said, as plainly as spoken words, -"Remember that the powers of life and death are in my hands, and that -I have got force at my back." Some men would have lost their nerve in -such circumstances, but the Burgomaster was made of different stuff. -Without a moment's hesitation, M. Max took his fountain pen from his -pocket and, with a humorously emphatic gesture, banged it down upon the -table opposite the revolver. Was it a sort of hint, one wonders, that -"the pen is mightier than the sword"--that the soldier's reign would -be a brief one? Anyway, it evidently impressed the Prussian, as did -the Burgomaster's conduct throughout the conference, for at the close -of the meeting the general patronizingly congratulated M. Max on his -conduct at the discussion and graciously offered to shake hands with -him. But the Burgomaster was no more susceptible to soft words than -to threats. He remembered how German officers had deliberately ridden -their horses through the city's flower-beds and roughly jostled women -and children off the sidewalks. "Excuse me," he said, firmly, "but we -are enemies." - -A little later there came another sharp passage of arms. The new -governor of the city sent for M. Max and informed him curtly that, on -account of the stubborn resistance Belgium had offered, the capital -would have to pay the staggering fine of eight million pounds! How long -would it take the Burgomaster to produce the money? - -M. Max looked at him with a smile. - -"You are a little too late, general," he said. "All the funds of the -city were sent to Antwerp some time ago, and we have not a penny in our -coffers." - -That was check number one to the governor, but another was to follow. -The good folk of Brussels, the Germans noted, were showing altogether -too much spirit. They were saying among themselves that the French -would soon put the Germans in their places. So the governor placarded -the town with a notice informing the inhabitants that France had left -the Belgians to their fate; she had all she could do to look after -herself, and would trouble no further about her little ally. This -specious story might have had the designed effect but for M. Max. -Paying no heed to the possible consequences to himself, he immediately -had another notice, bearing his own signature, pasted underneath the -governor's poster. It was short and very much to the point. It stated -that the German statement was an out-and-out lie to which no attention -should be paid. What the governor said when he heard of this swift -counter-stroke may be left to the imagination. What he did was weak -enough. He simply issued another notice saying that in future no -proclamations were to be posted up without his sanction. - -For a few days M. Max was left in peace; then he had another little -tussle with the enemy. Because a clerk at the town hall refused -to accept a requisition order which was not properly filled up, a -blustering German officer forced his way into the Burgomaster's room -with a cigar in his mouth. - -M. Max looked at him coldly. - -"Sir," he said, "you are the first person to walk into my rooms without -being properly announced." - -The Prussian began to bully and threaten, but without heeding him M. -Max sent one of his staff to fetch the intruder's superior officer, -General von Arnim. The general came, heard of his subordinate's -rudeness, and sentenced him on the spot to eleven days' arrest. Then he -turned to M. Max. - -"Now, sir," he said, "the conversation can continue." - -"Pardon, general," replied the Burgomaster, "it can now commence." - - -III--HUMOR OF THE WITTY BRUXELLOIS - -Throughout their dealings with the people of Brussels the Germans -have found themselves time and again outwitted. Scarce a prohibition -has been framed which has not been countered on the instant by some -brilliant evasion that has rendered it not merely null and void, but -ridiculous as well. "_Verboten_," that fetish of the docile German -mind, succeeds only in stimulating the inventiveness of the witty -Bruxellois. - -Exception was taken, for example, to the wording of certain -proclamations by the Burgomaster which had been put up on the walls -in various parts of the city, and the German authorities ordered that -sheets of white paper be pasted over them. The order was duly carried -out. Ere nightfall blameless blank sheets marked the spots where the -suppressed placards had previously figured. Next morning the sheets -were still there, blank as before, but hardly blameless. An oily sponge -had rendered them transparent during the night, and the censored -proclamations underneath were plainly visible for all who chose--and -there were many--to pause and ostentatiously read. - -Again, the wearing of the Belgian national colours is forbidden. So -be it. Rosettes of red, black, and yellow ribbon are discarded; not a -favour adorns the decorous civilian buttonhole. But soon a new fashion -in attire appears upon the boulevards. A dandy is observed handsomely, -indeed strikingly, apparelled in yellow trousers, red vest, and black -coat. The mode quickly becomes popular, and soon it might almost be -said that for the patriotic Bruxellois "motley's the only wear." That -the motley in this case should comprise the Belgian national colours -is a coincidence which any wearer of it, one may be sure, would be -astonished to discover. - -When last year the anniversary of that fateful fourth of August came -round, the Germans in Brussels, guilty of conscience, sought to -anticipate by prohibition all public reminiscence of the date. Their -feelings may be imagined when, on the morning of that significant -anniversary, they were greeted by the sight of a careless torn -"scrap of paper" thrust negligently through the buttonhole of every -Bruxellois. To frame an edict that would render _verboten_ such subtle -demonstrations as this would tax even the Teuton's encyclopaedic -diligence. - -A scrap of paper is not the only strange but meaning device which has -adorned the citizen's buttonhole in Brussels. On the day when Italy -joined the Allies, the Germans, in anticipation of that long-expected -event, had of their wisdom forbidden any display of the Italian colours -or flag. None appeared, but from out of those resourceful buttonholes -peeped neat rosettes and sprigs of macaroni. - -If presently we learn that by order of the All-Highest every buttonhole -in Brussels is sewn up, it will hardly be matter for surprise. It would -be a charactertistic step. - -Those ribbon favours have proved prickly thorns to the Germans. They -seem to act upon the Prussian mind as a red rag upon the bull, and -like the rag, when in the deft hands of a skilled _toriro_, they -frequently lure the victim to his own undoing. It happened once, soon -after the display of national colours had been prohibited, that a -Prussian officer, entering a Brussels tramcar, found himself seated -opposite a Belgian lady upon whose coat the forbidden red, black, and -yellow ribbons were flauntingly displayed. It is the custom of many -Belgian ladies, on finding themselves in a public vehicle with a German -officer, to quit their seats and stand on the conductor's platform -outside. Ruffled, perhaps, by the omission of this somewhat pointed -tribute to his presence, the intruder leaned forward and requested the -removal of the offending colours. The suggestion was greeted by a stony -stare, the demand which followed it by an expressive and provocative -shrug of the shoulders. - -"If you will not take off those colours, madam, I shall remove them -myself." - -This menace eliciting no response, the Prussian officer stretched forth -a Prussian fist and made a Prussian grab. The favour came away in his -clutch, but that was not the end of it. Within his fair antagonist's -dress ample lengths of ribbon were concealed, and the more the -discomfited officer pulled the more streamers of red, black, and yellow -reeled forth. It was a case literally of getting more than he bargained -for, and the charming murmur of thanks which he received when, in sheer -desperation, he dropped the tangle of ribbon on the floor and made -hastily for the door must have gratified that Prussian exceedingly. - - -IV--THE JOKERS OF BRUSSELS - -Practical joking has become popular in Brussels since the German -occupation. "Everybody's doing it"--amongst the Bruxellois, that -is. A prohibition was lately placed upon the use of motor-cars by -the civil population, and orders were issued for the enforcement of -dire penalties in cases of disobedience. One afternoon a couple of -German officers were seated in a _cafe_ discussing mugs of beer with -that portentous solemnity which the Teutonic mind finds proper to -such an occasion, when a loud "Honk, honk!" the unmistakable blast -of a motor-horn, was heard in the street outside. Forth dashed the -officers, indignant at this flagrant transgression of orders, but when -they reached the pavement no car was there. None was even in sight -upon the whole length of the boulevard, though the sound of the horn -had been close at hand. Crestfallen, the representatives of law and -order--Prussian style--returned to their beer-mugs, but were hardly -seated when again the loud "Honk, honk!" fell upon their ears, and -again they dashed into the street, with the same result. Convinced that -some impudent guttersnipe must be playing a trick, they questioned the -nearest sentry. But the latter had seen neither car nor urchin; he -had not even heard the mysterious sound, he averred, and the baffled -officers began almost to doubt their ears. But the smile on the face of -the Belgian proprietor of the _cafe_ was suspicious. - -Fresh mugs of beer were requisitioned, but the very first "Prosit" was -interrupted by the malevolent "Honk, honk!" With froth-flecked lips -that gave them an aspect admirably suited to their mood, the enraged -officers set down the mugs with a bang and once more strode forth in -quest of the miscreant. Once more a perfectly empty street met their -gaze. But even as they scowled abroad, a mocking "Honk, honk!" sounded, -this time just above their heads. The listeners started and looked up, -to see a green parrot in a cage upon the window-sill above regarding -them imperturably with a beady inscrutable eye. So flagrant a case -of _lese majeste_ could not be overlooked, and the green parrot was -executed. - -But even in his murders the Boche lacks a sense of proportion, which -is, of course, merely another way of saying that he has no sense -of humor. To the martyrdom of the parrot must be added that of two -luckless pigeons whose sole crime against the Deutches Reich was that -of being born after a certain date. It was decreed soon after the -occupation of Brussels that all owners of pigeons must notify the -authorities the number of birds which they possessed. Amongst those -complying with the order was a certain shopkeeper who kept a pair -of pigeons as pets. They were not of the carrier variety, and he was -allowed to retain them. But pigeons are notoriously domesticated -creatures, and presently an interesting event occurred in the -establishment of this happy couple. A couple of squabs were hatched -out. These duly assumed down, which in turn became feathers, and -presently there were four pigeons where formerly had been but two. At -this stage a German official, armed with a registration list, paid a -visit of inspection. He noted the well-preened quartette, and referred -to his papers. Then he frowned ominously. - -"On such and such a date you registered two pigeons." - -"That is so," was the answer. "Since then----" - -"But you have four there." - -"Quite true. You are----" - -"But you are only entitled to have two." - -"A thousand pardons, mein Herr. But one cannot interfere with Nature. -My two pigeons, you see----" - -"If you registered two only, you cannot be allowed to have four. It is -self-evident." - -It is needless to repeat the colloquy at length. Though that -explanations were cut short, refused a hearing. No German official -was ever known to "use his discretion"; that is a prerogative of the -muddle-headed British. The list had _two_ pigeons; here were _four_. -Obviously there was only one course to be taken. The abundant pigeons -shared the fate of the indiscreet parrot. - -Next day there appeared suspended in the mourning owner's shop-window -two feathered corpses adorned with this pathetic placard:-- - - MORTS - POUR LA PATRIE! - - -V--THE SECRET NEWSPAPER--_LIBRE BELGIQUE_ - -But the most brilliant and daring feat achieved in Brussels is -unquestionably the publication of _Libre Belgique_, a mysterious weekly -journal which makes its appearance with unfailing regularity, though -how, where, and by whom produced the Germans have never been able to -discover. This is the very apotheosis of Boche-baiting, for _Libre -Belgique_ is a fiery sheet. It does not mince words, but flagellates -the Germans with the most scornful virulence, holding them up to -ridicule and contempt. Every week it pours the vials of bitter wrath -and hatred upon the Boche's devoted head, and the Boche can do nothing -but sit meekly under this scorching cataract. For though a reward, -which has already risen from a thousand pounds to three times that -figure, is offered for a denunciation of those responsible for this -"scurrilous rag," the secret of _Libre Belgique_ remains inviolate. -Exhaustive searches have been conducted, many arrests have been made -upon suspicion, but except for two minor actors in the great comedy, -whose function was merely the distribution of copies, no one has been -caught. Yet _Libre Belgique_ has already celebrated one anniversary -of its birth, and is well into its second year of existence. And -every week, without fail, General von Bissing, the German governor of -Brussels, receives a "complimentary" copy, which he doubtless peruses -with absorbed interest. - -It is characteristic of Brussels wit that in conformity with law the -paper announces in each issue the address of its office and printing -works. These, it appears, are in "a cellar on wheels," and in view -of the peripatetic habits thus suggested, correspondents are desired -to address their communications to the _Kommandatur_, _i.e._, the -headquarters of the German authorities! - -But _Libre Belgique_ has another function to discharge beyond that -of a courageous jest, well calculated to keep the Bruxellois in good -heart. Drastic in its satire upon the enemy, it is equally unsparing in -its record of German crimes and its dissection of the often grotesque -claims made by the German official communiques. Von Bissing and his -staff may affect to make light of this gadfly among journals, but the -rewards offered for its betrayal and the energetic measures taken to -bring about its suppression tell another story. _Libre Belgique_, -indeed, aptly illustrates the parable at which Burgomaster Max so -subtly hinted when he laid his pen beside his interlocutor's pistol. -The pen is far mightier--in the long run--than the sword, and the -Germans, though they will not perhaps admit it even to themselves, have -an uncomfortable inkling of that fact. - -That _Libre Belgique_, in spite of all proffered bribes, should never -yet have been betrayed is a wonderful testimony to the high patriotic -spirit of the Bruxellois. For though the operations of the paper's -staff are doubtless closely guarded, the number of persons who are in -the secret must inevitably be considerable, and leakage is difficult -to prevent. But the Belgian spirit is a thing with which we are -all familiar now, and when to that is added Brussels wit the whole -phenomenon is explained. - -One fancies, indeed, that when the Belgian capital is at length -evacuated by the Germans the populace will be half sorry to see them -go. The Boche is not exactly a lovable fellow, but to people of a -satirical turn of mind, _naivete_, which he possesses in unparalleled -degree, is always engaging. As a butt the Boche is unique, and in that -capacity, if in no other, he has positively endeared himself to the -witty citizens of Brussels. - - - - -HOW SERGEANT O'LEARY WON HIS VICTORIA CROSS - -_Story of the First Battalion of the Irish Guards_ - - He shot eight Germans in eight seconds, captured a machine gun, - took two barricades single handed, and saved his whole company from - being exterminated. The story is told in the _New York American_ as - dispatched from London. - - -I--WHO IS THE BRAVEST MAN IN THE WAR? - -Who is the bravest man that the war has produced? - -It would probably be impossible to answer this question with any -approach to accuracy and impartiality. But it is interesting to compare -some of the incidents reported and see how modern courage compares with -that of past history. - -It is generally admitted that all the nations engaged have fought with -remarkable bravery and steadiness, so that a man must have done some -extraordinarily daring action to make himself notable. Thousands and -thousands of acts of bravery have been performed by many among the -millions of soldiers engaged. Doubtless some of the most heroic have -died without having their acts mentioned. - -Of the innumerable feats of bravery reported the one that has impressed -the British public most is that of Sergeant Michael O'Leary, of the -Irish Guards, who is a native of Ireland, as his name suggests. - -He has received the coveted Victoria Cross, been promoted Sergeant and -a long description of his deeds has been given him on the official -records--a very great honor. He has also been offered a commission, -but will not take it at present because he does not want to leave the -Irish Guards, and there is no place for him there as an officer. - -The cold official record says that O'Leary won his Victoria Cross "for -conspicuous bravery at Cuinchy. When forming one of the storming party -which advanced against the enemy's barricades he rushed to the front -and himself killed five Germans who were behind the first barricade, -after which he attacked a second barricade, about sixty yards further -on, which he captured, after killing three of the enemy and making -prisoners of two more. Lance Corporal O'Leary thus practically captured -the enemy's position by himself and prevented the rest of the attacking -party from being fired on." - -Further details of O'Leary's wonderful exploit were given by Company -Quartermaster Sergeant J. G. Lowry, of the Irish Guards, who was -engaged in the fight. - -"Our First Battalion," he said, "had been holding trenches near the La -Bassee brickfield, and our losses were heavy. The Germans had excellent -cover, both in trenches and behind stacks of bricks. - -"We were all delighted when the order came that the brickfield had to -be taken by assault next day. - -"Lance Corporal O'Leary never looked to see if his mates were coming, -and he must have done pretty near even time over that patch of ground. -When he got near the end of one of the German trenches he dropped, and -so did many others a long way behind him. The enemy had discovered what -was up. - -"A machine-gun was O'Leary's mark. Before the Germans could manage to -slew it around and meet the charging men O'Leary picked off the whole -of the five of the machine crew, and leaving some of his mates to come -up and capture the gun, he dashed forward to the second barricade, -which the Germans were quitting in a hurry and shot three more. - -"O'Leary came back from his killing as cool as if he had been for a -walk in the park and accompanied by two prisoners he had taken. He -probably saved the lives of a whole company. - -"Had that machine gun got slewed round, No. 1 Company might have been -nearly wiped out." - - -II--STORY OF THE YOUNG IRISH GUARD - -What impresses people in O'Leary's deed is not only his bravery but -the triumphant success with which he carried out the whole act. Other -soldiers may have displayed more self-sacrifice and endurance, but not -one of them appears to have done more for his side by one individual -act of bravery than O'Leary. - -It is the dashing quality of his deed that wins admiration and this -quality, it is to be noted, is peculiarly Irish. He is credited by his -admirers with having shot eight men in eight seconds. His quickness -must have been phenomenal, and here again he showed a peculiarly Irish -trait. - -How one man could have shot eight soldiers, when all eight of them -were armed and many of their comrades were only a few yards away, must -appear a mystery to many. The Germans were perhaps retiring hastily -from their positions, but they had magazine rifles in their hands and -fired many shots at the British. - -Why did they not get O'Leary, who was running out alone ahead of his -companions? He must have been amazingly lucky, as well as amazingly -quick. - -Then it is almost equally astonishing that he could have shot eight men -in a few moments while running. The best explanation of this is that -the British soldier has a rifle carrying more bullets than that of any -other army. - -The Lee Enfield rifle now used in the British army carries ten bullets -in the magazine and one in the barrel. O'Leary, of course, fired all -his eleven bullets, and he is credited with making eight of them kill a -man apiece. That is an amazing shooting record, said to be unequalled -for a soldier. - -Sergeant O'Leary is not a particularly fierce looking soldier, as might -be expected, but a tall, slender, fair-haired young fellow. He is only -twenty-five years old. - -"A quiet, easy-going young fellow O'Leary is," said his friend, -Sergeant Daly, of the Second Battalion of the Irish Guards. "But he is -remarkably quick on his feet." - -O'Leary was born in the little village of Inchigeelach, in the County -Cork. His father and mother still live there. He has an older brother -and four sisters, who are now in America. - -He served for several years in the Canadian Northwest Mounted Police, -but went back and joined the British Army in order to be nearer home. - -After the fight in which he won his decoration he wrote home: - -"Dear Parents: I guess you will be glad to hear that I was promoted -full sergeant on the field on account of distinguished conduct on -February 1, when we charged the Huns and routed them in disorder. - -"You bet the Irish Guards are getting back now." - -Mrs. O'Leary, the old mother of the hero, has been interviewed at her -home in Ireland. As might be expected her words were very simple. - -"It's proud I am of Mike," said Mrs. O'Leary, "but I wish he was home -instead of being in that cruel war. - -"When that telegram came for me, I thought sure Mike was dead, but -when I opened it I found that he had been promoted. Sure I was better -pleased to know that he was alive than promoted. - -"Mike is a good boy. He never gave me a moment's uneasiness since he -was in the cradle, except when he went away on his foreign adventures. -I suppose he had to leave me. There's little enough chance for a boy -here, with only the pigs to look after and his father and me." - -We have been inclined to think that the days were over when a mighty -warrior could rush in among the foe and slay many with his own hands -but O'Leary and many others in this war have proved that that is not -the case. - - -III--TALE OF A GORDON HIGHLANDER - -Many of the famous deeds of antiquity have been curiously paralleled in -the war. For instance, one of the ancient feats that everybody mentions -occasionally was how the brave Horatius held the bridge across the -Tiber with two companions against the whole Etruscan army. - -Now we find again and again that a bridge has been the scene of deeds -of conspicuous heroism in this war. The British were defending a -river bank and bridge against a fierce German attack. The crew of a -British Maxim gun had all been killed. Then Angus MacLeod, of the -Gordon Highlanders, rose from cover, seized the Maxim gun and all alone -carried it, under fire, to the far side of the bridge, where he played -it on the advancing Germans. - -He is credited with having killed sixty Germans. Finally he fell dead -and thirty bullets were counted in his body. The delay enabled the -British to rally and repel their opponents. - -An extraordinary act of heroism was reported of an unnamed French -soldier during the disastrous retreat of the French from the Belgian -frontier and the Meuse River early in the war. - -This man had been taken prisoner with some companions. The Germans, -according to the report, drove their prisoners before them when -attempting to cross a strongly defended bridge, to make the French -think it was a party of their own men returning. As the French -prisoners stepped on the bridge, one of them, a big and strong-voiced -man, yelled: - -"Fire, nom de Dieu, or you will be wiped out." - -His own act made his death certain. He fell riddled with bullets from -both sides. - -Lieutenant Leach and Sergeant Hogan of the British Army each received -the Victoria Cross for an extraordinarily daring and ingenious action. -The two men killed two Germans, took sixteen unwounded prisoners and -twenty wounded men. Leach and Hogan with ten men crawled unobserved to -a section of trench that had been captured by the Germans earlier in -the day. Leach and Hogan dropped into the trench unnoticed and the ten -men lay in wait to shoot any Germans who showed themselves. - -A trench is built in zigzags so that there is only a straight section -of about twenty yards along which an enemy could shoot. The Germans in -the first section were taken by surprise and all killed or wounded. -Then the two men hurried on to the next turning. As they walked Hogan -put his cap on his rifle and held it above the trench to show their men -outside where they were. - -Lieutenant Leach poked his automatic revolver round the corner of -the trench and began shooting at the Germans from cover. The German -soldiers with their big clumsy rifles could not hit the deadly hand -that was the only object to aim at. While the Lieutenant was shooting, -Hogan watched over the top of the trench to shoot any German who tried -to get out or attack them in the rear. Thus all the men in each section -were killed, wounded or captured. - -How do these and the many other brave men who have been reported in -the present war compare with the heroes of antiquity? Achilles is the -foremost of Greek warriors. He personified the Greek ideal of bravery, -manly beauty and fiery enthusiasm. The "Iliad" contains pages and pages -about his deeds, his speeches, how he sulked in his tent, and his -quarrel with Agamemnon, but it does not seem after all that he did a -vast amount of harm to the enemy. Of course, he killed Hector, but that -was not amazing, and he acted with considerable brutality about it. - -Achilles was undoubtedly a fine orator, but in achievement he appeared -to compare badly with modest Sergeant O'Leary. - - - - -STORY OF A RUSSIAN IN AN AUSTRIAN PRISON - -_An Officer's Remarkable Experience_ - - This very unusual narrative, with its light on Austrian prison - conditions, appeared in the Russkoe Slovo, Moscow, June 30, 1916. - It was written by a petty officer of the Russian Army at the - request of the paper's Paris correspondent. The correspondent tells - of a party of thirty Russians who had recently arrived in Paris - from Italy, all war prisoners from Austria, who had managed at - different times to slip through the lines on the Italian front. It - was translated for _Current History_. - - -I--"I WAS PRISONER OF THE MAGYARS" - -I was taken prisoner by the Magyars in the Carpathians. We were driven -to the station of Kashitzi, where we found more Russians, I don't know -how many, and were placed in dirty cars, from which cattle had just -been removed. The stench was terrible, the crowd unthinkable. The doors -were locked all the time.... We travelled two days; on the third we -arrived in a camp called Lintz. What did I see in this camp? Filthy -barracks, naked bunks on which our soldiers were scattered, pale, -exhausted, hungry, nearly all barefoot or in wooden clogs. Many were -suffering from inflamed feet and exhaustion. I don't know how they call -it in medicine, but to my mind it was the fever of starvation. One gets -yellow, trembles incessantly, longs for food.... - -The prisoners were fed very poorly, mainly with turnips, beans, and -peas. - -Once a soldier decided to complain to Francis Joseph or Wilhelm. He -went up to an electric pole, formed his fingers so that it looked as if -he were speaking into a telephone horn, and shouted, "Hello, Germans, -give us some more bread!" He called and knocked with his fists for some -time, but, of course, received no reply. Many soldiers made fun of -him at first, but others began to look for a way to complain against -such treatment of war prisoners. Meanwhile the bread became poorer and -poorer in quality and less in quantity. The meals consisted of beans, -and in addition there were bugs in the beans. We got meat three times -a week, the other days we got herring. - -On the 24th of May, 1915, a company was recruited among us to be sent -away to do some "agricultural" work. The soldiers would not believe -it, claiming that peace was near. I was in the first contingent. Our -train was passing between mountains covered with evergreen. Every now -and then it would shoot through tunnels. This surprised me greatly. I -understood that we were not going in the direction of Russia. And so -it was. We finally arrived in a place, where the thousand of us were -quartered in one building. We at once began to be treated differently, -much more insolently and severely. On the 27th we were driven to the -fields to work. We wondered what the agricultural labour we were to do -could be. We were supplied with shovels and pick-axes, led to a wood on -a hill some 1,600 metres high, mustered into rows, and ordered to dig a -ditch--that is what the Germans called it--but we called it otherwise. -It became clear that we were to dig trenches. - -The first day passed in idleness and grumbling. All unanimously refused -to work, even if we had to pay with our lives for it. - -We waited for the following morning. The guards came to take us out to -work, but we said that we would not dig trenches. Then the Colonel -came and asked in Russian: "Why don't you want to work?" We all -answered: "This work is against the law. You are violating the European -laws and breaking all agreements by forcing us to construct defensive -lines for you." The Colonel said: "Look out, don't resist, or we will -shoot every one of you. We don't care now for the laws to which you -point us. All Europe is at war now--this is no time for laws. If you -don't go to work, I will have you shot." - -We all exclaimed: "We won't. Shoot us, but we will not do the work." - - -II--STANDING BEFORE THE EXECUTIONER - -All of the 28th we were in our yard. No food was given us. Thus we were -held for three days without food. On the fourth day a company of cadets -arrived. Leading them was the executioner, with stripes on his sleeves. -They loaded their rifles, holding them ready. Then the Colonel asked: -"Who will go to work?" The crowd answered "No!" The Colonel said: "I -am sorry for you, boys, you don't understand that you are resisting -in vain." Suddenly the crowd was split into two. Those who agreed to -work were given dinner and put to work. The other half, in which I was -included, was led away to another yard. From among us ten were picked -out and taken away--we knew not where. We were ordered to lie on the -ground with our faces downward, and not to turn our heads. - -On June 2 there remained only fifty men who still refused to work, -suffering hunger for the sixth day. The ten soldiers who were daily -taken away from us were subjected to, besides hunger, suspense in the -air from rings, with their hands tied to their backs. In about thirty -minutes one would lose consciousness, and then he would be taken down -to the ground. After he recovered his senses he would be asked if he -agreed to work. What could one answer? To say "I refuse" meant another -ordeal. He would begin to cry and agree to work. - -The following day our heroes were led out into the open, ten were -selected from our midst, arranged in a line facing the rest of us, -and told that they would be shot immediately. Of the remainder half -were to be shot in the evening, the other half the following morning. -Their graves had been dug by the ten heroes themselves. I have not the -slightest hesitancy in calling them so. - -Then a space was cleared, and Ivan Tistchenko, Feodor Lupin, Ivan -Katayev, and Philip Kulikov were ordered forward. The first was Ivan -Tistchenko. An officer and four cadets approached him. The officer -asked him if he would agree to work. He answered "No," and crossed -himself. His eyes were bound with a white 'kerchief, and these pitiless -and unjust cadets fired at the order of the officer. Two bullets -pierced his head and two his breast, and the brave fellow fell to the -wet ground noiselessly and peacefully. - -In the same manner the second, third, and fourth were treated. When the -fifth was led forward he also refused to work, and they already had his -eyes bound. But some one in the crowd exclaimed: "Halt--don't fire!" -And the comrades asked for his life, all agreeing to go to work. And I -never learned the identity of the chap who saved that fellow's life and -many other lives. - -We remained in that camp for two and a half months. Then we were -removed closer to the front, to a locality inhabited by Italians. -Our soldiers there would inquire from the Italian labourers, to whom -the guards paid no attention, where the boundary lay. We learned the -direction and the distance to the boundary, which was about thirty -miles. It was even nearer to the Italian front. And so on Sept. 29 a -comrade and I decided to escape. - -(Some particulars of the escape have been deleted by the Russian -censor.) - -Toward dawn we emerged from the thick of the pine trees and bushes, and -descended to the base of the mountain. At our feet was a stream, about -fifty feet wide, rapid, and full of rocks. Here we made good use of our -training in gymnastics. My comrade, a tall fellow, was light on his -feet. He jumped like a squirrel from rock to rock. To me it seemed that -I would slip and be swept away by the current. My comrade was already -on the opposite shore when I, making my last jump, failed to gain the -beach. Fortunately he was quick to stretch out to me his long stick, -and drew me out of the water as wet as a lobster. - -We walked along the stream all day without encountering anybody. At the -end of the day we came in sight of a tiny village, but there were no -people nor soldiers to be seen. Only near one house smoke was rising. -We decided to approach stealthily and investigate. We saw an old woman -at the fire, bending over a kettle of sweet corn. We surmised that -the inhabitants of the village must have deserted it because of its -proximity to the front, while the old woman refused to abandon her home. - -We approached her and confessed that we were Russian soldiers. She -thought long. What "Russian" meant she did not know, but she understood -the meaning of the word "soldiers." She presented us with some of her -sweet corn and pointed out the way to the Italian front. - - -III--"WE ESCAPED TO ITALIAN FRONTIER" - -It was six in the evening when we came upon an advanced Italian -post. The sentinel stopped us with a "Halt!" He was pointing his -rifle at us, showing that he would shoot if we advanced. He called -for his superior. We were searched and taken into their quarters. -An officer soon came in. Through an interpreter he asked us for our -names, regiments, and army branches. He gave each of us a package of -cigarettes. - -Only then I understood that we were received as guests. When the -officer gave us the cigarettes, saying "Bravo, Russi!" the soldiers -began showering us with cigarettes, chocolate, and confetti. One -soldier guessed better than the rest; he brought us a dish of soup, -meat, and a bottle of wine. After this there was a regular wedding -feast. Each of the soldiers brought something to eat, cheese, butter, -sardines. We, knowing our condition, abstained from eating too much. -Thinking that on the following day we would have to suffer hunger -again, we put all the presents into a bag presented us by one of the -Italians. Thus we accumulated about fifteen pounds of bread, cheese, -butter, chocolate, lard, and boiled beef. Then the Italians noticed -that our clothes were wet, and began presenting us with underwear and -clothing, so that we soon changed our appearance. We were anxious to -converse with them. The interpreter, who spoke Russian imperfectly, had -a great deal of work. Just the same, I will never in my life forget -his first words in Russian, as he asked us, by order of the officer: -"Who are you--brothers?" In tears we answered him that we were Russian -officers escaped from captivity; he asked it so kindly, and we were -infinitely gladdened by his sweet words. - -The following day we were taken to the corps headquarters. Officers -would come in, shake hands--some even kissed us, which embarrassed us. -Unwittingly tears would come to our eyes when we recalled our life in -the prison camp and this sudden change for the better. - -The General also visited us. He pressed our hands, gave each of us a -package of cigarettes, and presented us with 10 lire in gold. We wanted -to decline the money, but the interpreter said, "Take," and we did. - -We lived for about a month in Italy. What a noble people!--soldiers, -civilians, and officers. It is impossible to describe! At every station -(on the way to France) the public would surround us, all anxious to do -us some favours, all showing their deep affection for the Russians. -Once a Sister of Mercy was distributing coffee to our party as the -train began to move. She ran along till the train gained full speed, -desiring not to leave some of us without coffee. Our soldiers would -wonder at the affection of the entire Italian people for the Russians, -and would shout incessantly: "Viva Italia! Viva Italia!" - - - - -TWO WEEKS ON A SUBMARINE - -_Told by Carl List_ - - This article, by a German-American sailor on a Norwegian ship - bound for Queenstown with a cargo of wheat, was communicated to - _L'Illustrazione Italiana_, from which it is here translated for - _Current History_. - - -I--"I WAS ON A NORWEGIAN SHIP" - -The Norwegian ship on which I was embarked was nearing the Irish -Channel. The afternoon was misty, the sea rough. We were warned by an -English steamer of the presence of German submarines in the vicinity. -There was a certain depression among those on board. - -I asked the Captain if there were anything to do. "No," he answered. -Boom! a cannon shot was heard at the very moment. General confusion. -All the men ran up on deck and looked about, terrified. Boom! another -cannon shot. Then one of the German sailors, pointing to a spot on the -horizon, said: "A German submarine." - -It was true. The black spot grew rapidly larger, and then one could -make out some human figures near the small cannon on the deck. It was -the famous U-39. We hoisted our flag and awaited events. The Captain -sent the mate with our ship's papers over to the submarine, which was -now near. Soon those who were not German received orders to take to the -boats. The Germans were taken on board the U-39, I among them. When -this was done our ship was sunk. - -So there I was on board a submarine. The impression of it was strange -enough. The first evening, quite exhausted, I threw myself down in a -corner. I heard a few short orders, then the sound of the machinery.... -After that everything was in absolute silence. Some said we were -navigating at such a depth that big ships could pass overhead of us.... -I fell asleep. - -Next day on waking I tried to get my bearings. We Germans were treated -as friends. We were permitted to go about everywhere. - -The boat had the shape of a gigantic cigar, about 200 feet long, -divided into numerous compartments. They were full of shining -instruments. Now there was a buzzing sound, like the inside of a -bee-hive, now absolute silence reigned. Every nerve was tense with -the expectation of the orders on which our lives depended. Toward the -prow was the room from which the torpedo was launched, a room full of -tubes and valves. The officers' lodgings are very restricted, since the -space on board a submarine proscribes any comfort. The commander was -Lieut. Capt. Foerstner, a tall young man, thin and pale--which is not -surprising, since he never had a moment's repose; neither he nor the -men of the crew ever got their clothes off during the twelve days I was -on board. - -The periscope, the eye of the submarine, made known to us everything -that took place on the surface of the water, and it did so with such -clearness that it was almost like looking through a telescope. There -was always a man on watch there. - - -II--"I WAS ABOARD THE U-39" - -Suddenly a ship comes in sight. Its smoke is like a black line drawn -on the horizon. A bell rings. It is a signal for each man to be at his -post. The U-39 slowly rises to the surface. A last look is given at -the mirror of the periscope; no English coast guard is in sight. So -everything is ready for action. We hear the command, "Empty the water -cistern." Freed from her ballast, the submarine rises to the surface. -"Both engines ahead at full speed!" The boat cleaves her way through -the water that cascades her sides with foam. In a short time the ship -is reached. The submarine hoists her flag and fires a cannon shot. No -flag betrays the nationality of the captured ship, but we can read the -name, _Gadsby_, on her side. She is English. We signal that her whole -crew is to take to the lifeboats, and quickly! At any moment we may be -surprised. - -Through the megaphone we indicate to the men the nearest way to land; -then a cannon shot, then a second one. The captured ship, after -pitching for a while, sinks. - -The time necessary for the sinking of a ship differs considerably in -different cases. Some disappear in five minutes, others float for -several hours. The finest spectacle I witnessed was the sinking of -the _Fiery Cross_. The crew received orders to get off in the boats. -Some of our men rowed up close to the abandoned ship and attached -hand grenades to her sides. They were fired and the three-master was -blown up with all her sails spread and set. The hull and the rigging -went down to the depths, but the sails spread out on the surface of -the water like so many little fields of polar ice. Eleven ships were -destroyed during my stay on board. Quite a number of others were -captured, besides these, but they were let go again. - -This trip, which I shall never forget, lasted twelve days. It was -dangerous, but it was exciting and so fine that I would not have missed -it for anything in the world. - - - - -A GERMAN BATTALION THAT PERISHED IN THE SNOW - -_Told by a Russian Officer_ - - This is a tragic story of a night fight in snow-buried barbed wire - entanglements where a whole German battalion perished. It comes - from Petrograd to Montgomery Schuyler in the form of a letter from - a Russian officer. - - -I--TRAGIC STORY OF A NIGHT FIGHT - -"We were creeping across the snow, when we hear a frightened '_Wer -kommt da?_' - -"'Hold on, Germans! Where the devil do they come from?' ask our men in -surprise. 'Are they numerous?' - -"'_Wer ist da?_' we hear again. - -"Our only reply is to fire by the squad, and then again. The Germans -are a little surprised, but pull themselves together and return the -fire. It is dark and neither side can see the other. In groping about, -we finally meet, and it is give and take with the bayonet. We strike -in silence, but bullets are falling about us like rain. Nobody knows -who is firing and every one is crying in his own language, 'Don't fire! -Stop!' From the side where the firing comes from, beyond and to the -right, they are yelling at us, both in German and Russian, 'What's the -matter? Where are you?' - -"Our men cry to the Germans, 'Surrender!' - -"They answer: 'Throw down your arms. We have surrounded you and you are -all prisoners.' - -"Wild with rage, we throw ourselves forward with the bayonet, pushing -the enemy back along the trenches. In their holes the Germans cry, -peering into the impenetrable darkness, 'Help! Don't fire! Bayonet -them!' Hundreds of shouts answer them, like a wave rolling in on us -from every hand. - -"'Oh, little brothers, their force is numberless. We are surrounded on -three sides. Would it not be better to surrender?' cries some one with -a sob. - -"'Crack him over the head! Pull out his tongue! Drive him to the -Germans with the bayonet!' are the growling comments this evokes. - -"A command rings out, vibrating like a cord: 'Rear ranks, wheel, fire, -fire!' - -"The crowd before us yells, moves, and seems to stop. But behind them -new ranks groan and approach. Anew the command is given, 'Fire, fire!' - -"Cries and groans answer the fusillade and a hand-to-hand struggle -along the trenches ensues. - -"German shouts are heard: 'Help! Here, this way! Fall on their backs!' - -"But it is we who fall on their backs. We pry them out and clear the -trenches. - -"In front of us all is quiet. On the right we hear the Germans -struggling, growling, repeating the commands of the officers: -'_Vorwaerts! Vorwaerts!_' But nobody fires and nobody attacks our -trenches. We fire in the general direction of the German voices, -infrequent shots far apart answer us. The commands of '_Vorwaerts_' have -stopped. They are at the foot of the trenches, but they do not storm -them. 'After them with the bayonet,' our men cry, 'Finish them as we -finished the others.' - -"'Halt, boys,' calls the sharp, vibrating voice of our commander. 'This -may be only another German trick. They don't come on; we are firing and -they do not answer. Shoot further and lower. Fire!'" - - -II--"SO PERISHED A WHOLE BATTALION" - -"New cries and groans come from the Germans, followed by some isolated -shots, which fly high above us. After five or six rounds silence -settles upon the trenches and continues unbroken. 'What can this mean?' -wonder our men. 'Have we exterminated them all?' - -"'Excellency, permit me to go and feel around,' offers S., chief scout, -already decorated with the Cross of St. George. - -"'Wait, I am going to look into it myself.' - -"The officer lights a little electric lamp, and prudently sticks his -arm above the rampart. The light does not draw a single shot. We peer -cautiously over and see, almost within reach of our hands, the Germans -lying in ranks, piled on top of one another. - -"'Excellency,' the soldiers marvel, 'they are all dead. They don't -move, or are they pretending?' - -"The officer raises himself and directs the rays from his lamp on the -heaps. We see that they are buried in the snow up to the waist, or to -the neck, but none of them moves. The officer throws the light right -and left, and shows us hundreds of Germans extended, their fallen -rifles sticking up in the snow like planted things. - -"'I don't understand,' he mutters. - -"'Excellency, I am going to see,' says the chief scout. - -"'Go on,' the officer consents, 'and you, boys, have your rifles ready -and fire at anything suspicious without waiting for orders from me.' - -"S. gets out of the trench and immediately disappears, swallowed by -the soft snow up to the neck. He tries to get one leg out, but without -success. He tries to lean on one hand, pushes it down into the snow, -then pulls hard and swears. His hands are frightfully scratched; the -blood tinges the snow with dark blotches. - -"'It's the barbed wire defenses,' he cries. 'Help me, little brothers. -Alone I can do nothing.' - -"We catch him by the collar of his tunic, and with difficulty pull him -out. His coat, trousers, boots are in shreds. - -"'Thousand devils,' he swears. 'I have no legs left. They're scratched -to pieces.' - -"The officer understands: the trenches are defended by intrenchments -of barbed wire. The snow had covered and piled high above them. The -whole battalion we had seen had rushed forward to the help of those -who had called and had got mixed up in the wires. The first over had -sunk into the snow and disappeared. Those coming after had stepped on -them, passed on, become entangled wires, and had fallen in turn under -our hail of lead. Rank on rank, ignorant of what had happened and -rushing on like wild animals, had shared the fate of their comrades. So -perished a whole battalion." - - - - -THE FATAL WOOD--"NOT ONE SHALL BE SAVED" - -_A Story of Verdun_ - -_Told by Bernard St. Lawrence_ - - The following graphic account of one of the most dramatic episodes - in the great Battle of Verdun was related to the writer by a - Verdunois, who himself heard it from a young French officer, and - recorded it in the _Wide World_. - - -I--POILUS GOING TO SAVE VERDUN - -"Courage! We'll never allow the Boches to get through. Cheer up! They -shall never get your town. _Vive Verdun et les Verdunois!_" - -Thus, in a hundred and one different ways, did the brave _poilus_, -marching with admirable _entrain_ towards Verdun, instil hope into our -downcast hearts. - -We were on our way, the civilians of Verdun, to Paris and elsewhere, in -cattle-trucks and military wagons--a painful journey, in bitter cold -and snow, which would have been almost unbearable but for the sight of -those merry-hearted troops, swinging along in the daytime on the road -bordering the railway, and at night sweeping past us in trainload after -trainload in the direction of the town which, shattered by shot and -shell though it was, we still pictured in our hearts as home. There -were long waits in the darkness at wayside stations or on sidings, -whilst the saviours of France went forth to battle, but wherever -possible we found help and encouragement. At the larger _gares_ warmth -and creature-comforts were in readiness to cheer us on our way. The -waiting and refreshment rooms were crowded with railway officials, -charitably-disposed ladies, and military officers, all of them eager to -do something to ameliorate our lot, and at the same time to hear the -latest news from the Front. - -I was fortunate in making the acquaintance at Chalons of a young -officer, Lieutenant Marcel R----, who was able to tell me a good deal -about the Battle of Verdun, or, more strictly speaking, a singular -episode in it. Vague rumours of the "_Coup_ of the Caures Wood" had -already reached my ears, but it was not until I met Lieutenant R---- -that I heard all the dramatic details, in the planning and execution of -which he himself had played a part, though a minor one. - -"_Eh bien!_ How have you been getting on at Verdun lately?" he began -by asking me. "I was quite sorry to have to leave the battlefield and -go, _en mission_, to Paris. But I shall be back there to-morrow. Shall -I find a soul left?" - -"Only Pere Francois, the _marchand de vin_ of the Rue Nationale," I -replied. "He alone remains of the three thousand inhabitants. We left -him standing at the door of his wine-shop, which he said he would not -abandon for all the Boches in creation." - -"He plays his part, without a doubt," replied Lieutenant R----, with a -laugh. "It was at Pere Francois's that we celebrated the _coup_ of the -Caures Wood, and I shall never forget his enthusiasm when we told him -the story." - -"I envy him the privilege," said I. "Might I hope to hear you repeat -it, if there is time before the train starts?" - -"_Mais certainement!_ This is what happened. But I must begin at the -very beginning. The setting for the episode I have to describe is -indispensable." - -And Lieutenant R---- proceeded to tell his story as follows:-- - - -II--LIEUTENANT R---- TELLS HIS STORY - -We were in the early days of the battle, but sufficient had already -happened to make it clear to every one of us that at last we were -face to face with a big affair. The German High Command had decided -on a step which we welcomed most joyfully--to stake its all on a vain -endeavour to regain the confidence which the public in Germany has -fast been losing, not only in the military party, but also in the -Hohenzollerns themselves. The roar of the guns was so deafening that -we had to stuff our ears with cotton-wool or any material we could -find to deaden the dreadful sound. The ground shook under the shock of -the exploding shells. But neither the sounds which came to us, nor the -sights which met our eyes as we looked down upon the ever-advancing -masses of men in grey-green uniforms, had the slightest ill-effect upon -our nerves. Judging by my own feelings, we were all supremely uplifted. -It seemed to me that we had been preparing all our lives for that one -glorious day. - -"Come on, come on, grey-green battalions, and let us bite deep into -your flesh! It matters not what cowardly means you adopt; poison gas -or squirters of flaming liquid are all one to us, for you will never -succeed in getting through. Come on, like animals to the slaughter! -Those who succeed in escaping the _arrosage_ of the 'seventy-fives' -will find that Rosalie--the bayonet--is waiting for them." Such was the -savage hymn which my men were singing in their hearts as we defended -the Bois de Caures. - -"Rosalie" did her work well, I can tell you, when the Boches came to -close quarters. The snow-flecked ground in front of us, furrowed as -though by a titanic plough, was covered with bodies. However, as they -still came on in serried masses, it was decided that a retreat to the -defences which had been prepared many weeks before was necessary. Full -of confidence, and knowing that this slow retreat would enable us to -kill more and still more Germans, we made our preparations. - -But first of all let me locate the Wood of Caures, though it may -be superfluous to do so in the presence of an inhabitant--perhaps -a native--of Verdun. It is situated to the north of your town, and -is one of a number of woods and forests which are visible as dark -masses of foliage to anyone standing on the heights in the immediate -neighbourhood of Verdun, or, better still, if the observer be seated -in an aeroplane. The eyes of our gallant airmen were constantly fixed -on the Bois de Caures, which lies between the Bois d'Haumont and the -Herbe Bois, on the Bois des Fosses, which is due south of where we -were, and on the Forest of Spincourt, which was to our east. These -precious collaborators kept us constantly informed as to the movements -of the enemy. Every few hours they brought in their reports to the -Headquarters Staff, whence came the order that, in conjunction with the -remainder of the line, we were to fall back. - -"The move is to be made to-morrow--towards evening." Captain Peyron -told me in the afternoon. "But I understand from Chief Engineer Moreau -that we're to prepare a little surprise for the Kaiser's crack troops. -We've got to hold the wood like grim death until everything is ready. -Moreau and his staff of engineers have been out all day in the wood -prospecting, and the sappers must be already at work." - - -III--ON THE EVE OF THE _COUP_ - -At nightfall I learnt a little more from one of Moreau's assistants, -Lieutenant Chabert, a former brilliant pupil of the Ecole des Arts et -Metiers, who, owing to his deep knowledge of electrical science, has -on countless occasions rendered invaluable service. He is one of those -men who can turn their hands to anything in the scientific line. He -staggered into our dug-out, dead-beat, after ten hours of feverish and -continuous work with the sappers, and before throwing himself down to -sleep had just strength enough to mumble, "See that I'm called as early -as possible, _mon ami_, will you? I've got hundreds of yards of wiring -to see to yet. _Dieu merci_, we've still got a day before us!" - -I promised to wake him at five sharp, and, envying him his sleep, -immediately went in search of Sergeant Fleury, to delegate him to carry -out the duty entrusted to me in case--one never knows what the fortunes -of war may bring about--I were prevented from doing it. By the time I -had found the sergeant the moon had risen over the battlefield, and if -I live to be a hundred I shall never forget the sight. Our machine-guns -were still firing two hundred rounds a minute on the German formations. -As the enemy approached through the ravines round Flasbas and Azannes -they were enfiladed, and the deep clefts in the hills were positively -filled up with dead. Then, towards the early hours of the morning, -came a lull. The respite was doubly welcome; it gave us both time to -breathe and behold the work we had done. A ghastly spectacle indeed was -revealed as our searchlights swept over the battlefield. - -When the dawn came the lull continued--at least, till noon, when we -had once more to face the hammer-blows of the Kaiser and the Crown -Prince. I called Chabert at the appointed hour. After a great stretch -and a yawn, he went off like a giant refreshed to his work among the -human moles of the Caures Wood. About noon, Moreau came to hold a -consultation with Captain Peyron, under whose immediate orders we were, -but he was in such a hurry to get back to his sappers and electricians -that he had not time to say more than:-- - -"_Bonjour_, R----; see you later. All goes well!" - -The satisfied expression on his face told me that without words. - - -IV--"COUP OF CAURES WOOD" - -I did not meet either him or Chabert until after the retreat; and, -to tell you the truth, we were so busily engaged in keeping back the -Germans until it suited our purpose to let them come on _en masse_ that -I almost forgot about the "little surprise" which Moreau, Chabert, et -Cie. had announced to me through my chief. - -When evening came the gradual move back to more advantageous positions -began. I shall not go into the details of a strategic retreat with -which you yourself must be almost as well acquainted as myself, -but simply state that we evacuated the Caures Wood and got away to -the high ground in the neighbourhood of the Bois des Fosses, where -Peyron, Moreau, Chabert, Sergeant Fleury and myself calmly awaited the -impending catastrophe which had been so skilfully and rapidly prepared -for the oncoming enemy. The Bois de Caures, in the gathering darkness -of night, stood out like a huge black mass against the sky. - -"What do you estimate the strength of the attacking force in our -section to be?" I asked Captain Peyron. - -"Two thousand odd," he replied, "and they have all of them fallen -into the trap. As our men ran away through the wood, they followed in -masses, blindly and stupidly--_les imbeciles_! Not one of them will -escape, Moreau?" - -"Not a soul," replied the chief engineer. Then, glancing at his -luminous watch and turning to Chabert, he added, "One more minute, and -we shall see what we shall see." - -We kept our eyes fixed intently on the dark Bois de Caures. Someone, -somewhere, was pressing a button; for all at once huge tongues of -flames, accompanied by a series of explosions which rent the cold night -air, leapt into the sky. Simultaneously a mental vision must have -occurred to every one of us, as it certainly did to me--a vision of -hundreds upon hundreds of Germans, caught like rats in a trap, blown to -pieces amidst the shattered trees of that fatal wood. - -So ended the story of the "_Coup_ of the Caures Wood" as related to -me by Lieutenant R----. Hardly had he uttered the last words when the -departure bell rang and we hurried away to the train which was to take -us to Paris. - - - - -HEROISM AND PATHOS OF THE FRONT - -_Told by Lauchlan MacLean Watt_ - - This touching bit of genuine literature, penned by a poetic Scot - "somewhere in France," deserves to rank as a classic among war - letters. - - -I--STORY OF A YOUNG SCOTTISH SOLDIER - -Out here in the land of war we sometimes feel very far from those we -love; and then, as though we had walked somehow right through reality, -our thoughts are lifted oversea, and the mirage of home floats like -a dream before us. The magic stop is touched in many ways. Little do -the brave lads speaking to us in camp or hospital know how often they -brought us underneath its spell. - -Just a week ago, in a tent where the wounded lay, I was beside the -bed of a fine young Scottish soldier, stricken down in the prime of -his manhood, yet full of hope. The thought of the faces far away was -always with him upholdingly. In fact, the whole tent seemed vibrant -with the expectation of the journey across the narrow strip of blue -which sunders us from home. This Scottish youth had been talking, and -it was all about what to-morrow held for him. His mother, and the girl -that was to share life with him--these were foremost in his thought. -His face shone as he whispered, "I'm going home soon." Everything -would be all right then. What a welcome would be his, what stories -would be told by the fireside in the Summer evenings! But he made the -greater journey that very night. We buried him two days later, where -the crosses, with precious names upon them, are growing thick together. -Surely that is a place most holy. There will be a rare parade there on -Judgment Day of the finest youth and truest chivalry of Britain and of -France. Soft be their sleep till that reveille! - -We got the Pipe Major of a famous Highland regiment to come over; and -when the brave dust was lowered, while a little group of bronzed and -kilted men stood around the grave, he played the old wail of sorrow of -our people, "Lochaber No More." I heard it last when I stood in the -rain beside my mother's grave; and there can be nothing more deeply -moving for the Highland heart. The sigh of the waves along Hebridean -shores called to me there, among the graves in France. - -The men who lie in this hospital are those who could not be carried -further meanwhile, and they have been dropped here, in passing, to -hover between life and death until they make a move on one side or -other of the Great Divide. So it is a place where uncertainty takes -her seat beside the bed of the sufferer, watching with ever unshut eye -the fluctuating levels of the tide of destiny. It is a place where -the meaning of war gets branded deep upon you. The merest glimpse -solemnizes. Of course, the young may forget. The scars of youth heal -easily. But the middle-aged of our generation will certainly carry to -the grave the remembrance of this awful passion of a world. - - -II--THE MIRACLE OF DEATH - -Here, of course, you meet all kinds of men, from everywhere. They were -not forced to come, except by duty, in their country's need. They were -willing in the day of sacrifice, and theirs is that glory deathless. - -One has been burned severely. How he escaped at all is a miracle. But -they are all children of miracle. Death's pursuing hand seems just to -have slipped off some as he clutched at them. This man looks through -eye-holes in his bandages. He is an Irishman, and the Irish do take -heavy hurts with a patient optimism wonderful to see. - -There is also a fine little Welshman, quite a lad, who has lost his -leg. He has been suffering continually in the limb that is not there. -To-day he was lying out in the sun, and he looked up cheerily at me. -"Last night," he said, "for about half an hour I had no pain. I tell -you I lay still and held my breath. It was so good I scarcely could -believe it. I thought my heart would never beat again, at the wonder of -it." - -The usual picture postcard of the family is always close at hand. -One North of Ireland man, up out of bed for the first time, was very -full-hearted about his "missis and the childer." Said he with pride, -"She's doin' extra well. She's as brave as the best of them, and good -as the red gold--that's what she is." - -Another poor fellow, in terrible pain, asked me to search in a little -cotton bag which was beside him for the photograph of his wife and -himself and the little baby. "It was took just when I joined," he -whispered. "Baby's only two months old there." - -One day those who were able were outside, and a gramophone was -throatily grinding the melody out of familiar tunes, with a peculiarly -mesmeric effect. Suddenly the record was changed to "Mary of Argyle." -The Scotsman by whose bed I was standing said: "Wheesht! D'ye hear -thot? Man, is it no fine?" And the tears ran down his cheeks as he -listened. It was a poor enough record. In ordinary times he would have -shouted his condemnation of it. But he was now in a foreign land--a -stricken, suffering man. And it made him think of some woman far away -beside the Forth, where he came from. And his heart asked no further -question. - -At the head of the bed of some of them you will see a blue paper. -"You're looking grand to-day," said I to a young fellow. And he -replied, "Is there anny wonder, Sir, wid that scrap o' paper there?" -For it was the order for home on the first available opportunity. -"Sure, won't the ould mother be glad to see me?" he continued. "The -sunshine here is beautiful, but sunshine in the ould country is worth -the world." - -"Good-bye, Sir!" they sometimes cry. "I'll be away when you come round -again." But perhaps next time a sad face looks up at you, for the day -so eagerly anticipated has been again postponed. - -It is always home, and what the dear ones there are like, and what -they will be thinking yonder, that fills up the quiet hours toward -restoration, as it strengthened the heart and arm of the brave in the -hour of terrible conflict. - -The endurance, patience, and courage of the men are beyond praise--as -marvelous as their sufferings. I can never forget one who lay moaning -a kind of chant of pain--to prevent himself screaming, as he said. - - -III--THE PIPER PLAYED "LOCHABER NO MORE" - -Last night we had a very beautiful experience. We were searching -for a man on most important business, but as the wrong address had -been given, that part of it ended in wild-goose chase. Nevertheless -we were brought into contact with a real bit of wonder. It was an -exquisite night. The moon, big, warm, and round as a harvest moon -at home, hung low near the dreaming world. The trees stood still -and ghost-like, and the river ran through a picture of breathless -beauty. We had got away beyond houses, and were climbing up through -a great far-stretching glade. The roar before us was a trellis of -shadow and moonlight. Suddenly we had to stand and listen. It was the -nightingale. How indescribably glorious! The note of inquiry, repeated -and repeated, like a searching sadness; and then the liquid golden -stream of other-world song. How wonderfully peaceful the night lay all -around--the very moonlight seemed to soften in the listening. And yet -again came the question with the sob in it; and then the cry of the -heart running over. - -The valley lay lapped in luminous haze, a lake somewhere shining. But -there was no other sound, no motion, no sign of life anywhere--only -ourselves standing in that shadow glade, and that song of the -beginnings of the world's sadness, yearning, and delight, somewhere in -the thicket near. - -It was difficult to believe that we were in a land of war; that not far -from us lay ruined towns of ancient story; that the same moonlight, -so flooded with delight for us, was falling on the uninterred, the -suffering, and the dying, and the graves where brave dust was buried. -It was all very beautiful. And yet, somehow, it made me weary. For I -could not help thinking of the boy we had laid down to rest, so far -from home, and the piper playing "Lochaber No More" over his grave. And -of the regiment we had seen that very day, marching in full equipment, -with the pipers at the head of the column, so soon to be separated from -the peat fires and the dear ones more widely than by sundering seas. -And we hated the war. God recompenses the cruel ones who loosened that -bloody curse from among the old-time sorrows which were sleeping, to -afflict again the world! - - - - -AN AVIATOR'S STORY OF BOMBARDING THE ENEMY - -_Told by a French Aviator_ - - This is a tale of the risks, the courage, the fears, the luck, the - compulsion of duty and the haunting memory of destruction that mark - the fighting service of the airmen. It is a French aviator's plain - tale of experience from _Illustration_, Paris. - - -I--"OUR FLIGHT AT DAY BREAK" - -When our flight commander came in we knew by his smiling face that he -had something interesting for us. "Make a careful inspection," he said. -"The staff counts on you to destroy a station of great importance. Take -oil and essence enough for four hours' flight. Each of you will carry -five 90's and one 155. If you do not wholly destroy the place during -the first attack, rest, go back to-morrow and finish your work. You -will get explicit orders before you start." - -Our service is not confined to the defense of Paris. We are not the G. -V. C. of the skies. We had no idea where we were going; but our chief -was in such good spirits that we looked for a fine adventure. So full -of ardor, we all, pilots and engineers, inspected our great flyers. -Then, in view of resting for our work, we turned in for the night. When -someone knocked violently on my door I sprang up broad awake. - -"Get up, sergeant!" cried a voice. "It is nearly three o'clock! You -will be late!" - -The motors were turning on the ground. I dressed hastily and went -out.... Brr! it was cold. The field lay like a shadow in the -moonlight; the sky was of ideal clearness; a light fog was rising -from the damp ground. Our whole assembly, pilots and observers, went -into the little shack used as our flight bureau. Then came a great -hand-clasping, farewells--silence. - -The commander pointed out our route and we traced it on our charts. Now -we knew where we were going and what we had to do. - -There were our machines in the half-light, drawn up in line of battle. -Every pilot cast a swift glance at his craft as he went aboard. They -tested the motors. The grinding of the motors had slowed down; there -was an instant of relative calm. An order passed from pilot to pilot: -"Start from right to left, thirty seconds headway!" - -A long rattle broke the silence; an avion glided over the ground and -went up: _Our Chief!_ I was second. I heard my friends wishing me luck. -I rolled on at full speed, rose, and rushed out, into the darkness. - -When I had been flying ten minutes I realized that something was the -matter. My motor was not "giving." The altimeter marked 1,800 meters. -I saw the trenches stretching like cobwebs across the ground. I tried -to rise--_Impossible!_ I was less than 2,000 meters above the earth; I -was under orders; it was up to me to get to my destination and destroy -the object I had been sent to destroy; and my motor would not raise me -one foot. For one moment sickly doubt assailed me. I crossed the line -and, instantly, my craft was a target. The explosion of the bombs was -so violent and the bombs were so near, and there was so many of them, -that the air was in a tumult. My machine oscillated. The noise was -head-splitting; the muzzles of their 77's formed a bar of fire. I was -taking heavy risks, but what else could I do? _I must get there and do -my work._ - -The 105 was going; so were the 77's, upward like a bit of fireworks, -hurrying along towards the zenith until his lamps were like little -stars. On the following day we set out again to do our work. _We had -been sent to destroy._ - - -II--"WE DROPPED BOMBS ON THE ENEMY" - -We started at four o'clock in the afternoon and landed to reconnoiter -at a camp near the lines. While the motormen examined our motors, and -while the electricians put in the lights, we automobiled to a nearby -town and ate our dinner. We were dressed for our trip. The time set for -our ascension was nine o'clock. - -At dinner the chief had said to us: "When my lights go out you will -know that I am flying as a bird flies _for their lines_!" As we stood -there watching his flight his lights went out. That was his signal to -us; _his farewell_. But we saw him once more when his swift black plane -cut across the disk of the yellow moon. - -Then I went up. I rose to a height of 600 meters. I turned my last -spiral and put out my lights and the lights fixed to the wings, leaving -nothing but the little chart lamp. - -The earth lay away below us, vast, dark and still. We heard no sound, -we saw no light save the pallid light of the moon. The wind was strong. -I had no guiding points. I steered by the stars. As we approached the -lines the broad fan of a searchlight fixed upon me. I made a rapid -turn. Something was coming. We saw two light-bombs and three golden -fusees shooting worms of fire. - -After a flight of fifty minutes we reached our objective point. I -slowed down and we descended. When 500 meters above the earth we -dropped incendiary cans and bombs. A shower of light bombs answered -us; they showed us what we were doing and made it easier to do our -work. Then the lights of powerful projectors fastened on us. But our -work was done, and before long we were over our landing. - -The home run before the light wind was a pleasure. _But a man always -remembers_, and the thought of the damage I had done haunted me! They -fired their cannon. We were so close to them I wondered they did not -hit us. On that occasion my big machine did well because my motors -were normal. But, to sum it all up in a few words, everything was in -my favor this last time. We escaped, and, what is more important, we -contributed not a little to the success of the French in Champagne. - - - - -A DAY IN A GERMAN WAR PRISON - -_Told by Wilhelm Hegeler, Popular German Novelist_ - - The strange mixture of races on the western front is here depicted - by a noted German author in the form of a prison guard's narrative - of his daily life. - - -I--THE ANIMALS IN THE "ZOO" - -There they lie in a gloomy room of the railroad station, the English -prisoners, together with their allies from the Old and New Worlds. The -room used to be the waiting room for non-smokers, and it is no darker -or uglier than any of the other rooms, only it seems so because of its -occupants. - -"Service at the Zoo." Every one of us knows what this means--duty with -the prisoners. Our soldiers have invented good-natured nicknames for -the Turcos, Indians, and Algerians that they meet here: "The men from -the monkey theatre," "The Masqueraders," "The Hagenbeck Troop." But -they walk past the Englishmen in silent hatred. A little sympathy is -needed, even for banter. - -The prisoners' room is empty, except for a few inmates who for various -reasons could not be sent away. I am on duty here to-day. Crumpled -forms squat on mattresses along the wall like multi-colored bundles of -clothing. Not much is to be seen of their faces. Only a black arm, a -lank yellow hand, a gaudy blue sash, a pair of wide red trousers stand -out. There they crouch in the same stoical calm as they did before -their houses in the distant Orient, with the exception that they, with -the instinct of wounded animals, hide their faces. - -An Englishman lies on a bed opposite them. He looks at me expectantly -as if he wants to say something. But although I am not forbidden to -talk with the prisoners, I feel no necessity for doing so. - -An hour goes by. From time to time I give a drink to the Orientals who -ask me for it through gestures. At last the Englishman can keep silent -no longer and asks: - -"Will they treat us very severely?" - -I shrug my shoulders. "People feel angry at the English. Our soldiers -assert that they waved white flags and then threw hand grenades." - -"I don't know anything about that. That may have been the case earlier, -but I have been in the war only eight days. A week ago I was in -Newcastle with my wife." - -He takes a tin case from under his shirt, opens it, and looks at it -for a long time. Then he shows me the case, which contains the picture -of a woman, his wife. Then he takes a piece of paper from his trousers -pocket and shows me that, too. A name and address are written on it. - -"That is the man who bound up my wound on the field of battle. He was -very good to me. After the war I shall write to him." - -After a long period of silence he begins to talk again. But I do not -think further conversation timely. I only pay attention once and that -is when he explains to me his grade in the service and his rate of pay. -He is something like a Sergeant and says, pointing to his insignia: "A -common soldier gets only so much; with this insignia he gets so much -more, and when he has both, as I have, he gets so much." He names the -munificent sum with visible pride. - - -II--"A BELGIAN IN GERMAN UNIFORM" - -Then the door opens and my comrade announces in a tone that implies -something unusual: "A Belgian in a German uniform." I look at the man -in astonishment. Why is he allowed to run around without any guard in -particular? The expression of his face is rather stupid. He sits down -near the stove and crosses his legs comfortably. I ask him how he got -the uniform. He answers in Flemish. Before an explanation is possible -the hospital corps men bring in six or seven Englishmen on stretchers. -Now quick work is necessary. Mattresses must be spread out on the -floor and the people changed from bed to bed. The room is filled with -inquisitive hospital corps men and soldiers. I shove them all out. When -the door is finally closed again I count my prisoners and find the -Belgian is missing. I rush outside to look around the station platform. -There stands my Belgian on the doorstep. I seize his arm in an almost -friendly manner and invite him to come inside again. At last he tells -me how he got the uniform. He insists he got it in the hospital in the -place of his own tattered one. I shake my head increduously, but the -chaffeur who brought the prisoner hurries up and verifies the story. - -Now the station commandant comes along and is also of the opinion that -the prisoner must get some other kind of clothing. "But," he orders, -"first ask the staff doctor if his uniform can be taken off without any -danger to his wounds." I don't have to do this, because the wound is on -his upper thigh. I hunt up an unclaimed English cloak and, with visible -relief, the Belgian warrior crawls out of the German lion's skin. - - -III--PRISON KEEPER TELLS HIS STORY - -New prisoners are brought in--Frenchmen, Scotchmen, and Canadians. -Many of the first-named cough frightfully. When they are asked where -they got that, they answer that they have had it the whole Winter long. -There is a lank, powerful-looking non-commissioned officer among them. -He makes a sign to me and confesses confidentially that he is very -hungry. I tell him he must have patience, as there will soon be coffee -and bread given out. - -"Bread? Black bread?" He curls up his nose. "May I not have a little -pastry, perhaps?" - -"You just try our black bread," is my reply. "It is the same as we have -ourselves. We are better than we are supposed to be in France." - -"Yes, that's true," he agrees. "They told us that the prisoners were -badly treated in Germany. Now I see that such is not the case. Besides, -they tell you the same thing about our prisoners in France. But they, -too, do not have it so bad. On the contrary. I have seen some of them -myself in Brittany. They get a quart of cider a day. There was an -enormous crop of apples last Summer. And there is enough to eat. And -besides that, they are allowed to stroll through the city a couple of -hours every afternoon." - -I permit myself to make a mental reservation regarding the last -assertion, but a Frenchman brought in a little later makes the same -statement. - -A fairly educated and intelligent Canadian joins in the conversation -and puts the question that occupies all of them the most: "What sort of -fate awaits the prisoners?" - -"You will have to work a few hours a day. Still, you are paid extra for -that." - -"It is tough to have to sit in close rooms all the time." - -"No," I answer, "the wooden houses are surrounded by broad, open -places. I, myself, have seen Englishmen playing football in a prison -camp." - -Then his eyes sparkle and he lets slip the remark: "That is certainly -better than in Canada." Presumably he refers to the camp of the -civilians interned there. I ask him why he enlisted. He colors up and -answers, with a somewhat embarrassed smile: "Well, I knew that my -country was in danger, so I wanted to aid it." And this smile seems -to me to betray less the embarrassment of a man looking for a clever -answer than that of an educated person not liking to use pathetic -expressions. For the entire man has the appearance of frankness and -decency. - -In these days when fresh batches of prisoners are coming along all the -time I have answered many more questions. They are almost always the -same questions and receive the same answers. I have also seen convoys -of unwounded prisoners wending their way by day and by night along -lonely roads not so very far back of the front. I have repeatedly asked -prisoners how they were being treated. Many had requests to make; -none had a complaint. On the other hand, I saw many acts of kindness -performed by the doctors, by the sisters, and, not the fewest, by the -soldiers. - - - - -MURDER TRIAL OF CAPT. HERAIL OF FRENCH HUSSARS - -_Strangest Episode of the War_ - -_Told by an Eye-Witness_ - - -I--KILLED HIS WIFE--TRIED BY COURT-MARTIAL - -Captain Edouard Anselme Jean Herail, of the Eleventh Regiment of -French Hussars, but formerly of a cuirassier regiment, killed his wife -at Compiegne, because she insisted on staying in a place where his -regiment was encamped in defiance of military orders, which required -that officers' wives must not visit them. Herail was threatened with -disgrace for failure to obey orders. - -Captain Herail was tried for the murder before a court-martial in -Paris. The courtroom was crowded by a fashionable attendance, largely -consisting of women, for the case involved most delicate and unique -domestic problems, and the persons concerned were of high social -position. The Captain's father was a prominent judge. His wife had one -brother who won the Nobel Prize, and another brother is a well-known -lawyer. - -She was tall, slender, with a mass of Titian red hair and large blue -eyes. She had an artistic temperament and a seductive personality, when -not enraged. - -The Captain is a man of middle height, strongly built, his thick hair -brushed back, his complexion ruddy, altogether a good type of the -cavalry officer. A reddish mustache adds to the impression of physical -vigor, but his manner is gentle. - -The address of the prosecuting attorney showed that on November 23 -last the regiment of cavalry to which the captain belonged had been -withdrawn from the front and sent to camp at Campiegne for a period of -rest, after extremely severe fighting in Lorraine and in the north, -where the officers and soldiers of the regiment had lost heavily and -performed their duty in a very gallant manner. Captain Herail, for his -bravery, was recommended by his superiors for the cross of knight of -the Legion of Honor. - -Mme. Herail, who had been at Narbonne with her three children, learned -three days after the regiment came to Compiegne that it was there. -She hurried immediately to meet and embrace her husband, who was -embarrassed by her presence from the beginning. - -He felt obliged to take every means to hide the presence of his wife -in the town, for a note from the commanding general of October 4 had -absolutely forbidden the wives of officers to be with their husbands, -and it was added that any infraction of the order would be severely -punished. Much disorder and disregard of discipline had been caused -in the army by the presence of wives and also of those who were not -wives. In spite of this officers' wives had frequently broken the order -and had settled down in the vicinity of the camp. Lieutenant-Colonel -Meneville, commanding the Captain's regiment decided to call the -attention of his officers a second time to the necessity of observing -the rule. - - -II--MME. HERAIL DEFIED MILITARY LAW - -It was in the midst of this already very delicate situation that Mme. -Herail arrived to stay with her husband. He represented to her in -the most affectionate manner that she was breaking the orders of his -superiors, but she met his remonstrances with a storm of indignant -reproaches. - -"Your superiors are not my superiors!" exclaimed Mme. Herail, "and I -owe them no obedience. Did one ever hear of such tyranny? Their orders -are an outrage on personal liberty and the rights of a wife. There -is no power in France that can make me leave my husband or keep my -children away from their father." - -Finally, Mme. Herail burst into tears and her husband, instead of -pressing her to go, fell on her bosom and wept with her. - -The colonel of the regiment, who learned that his orders and warnings -were being disregarded by Mme. Herail, called his officers together -again. This was a third warning to them. He did not wish to appear -to be striking especially at Captain Herail, for whom he had a high -regard, and he told them all that very severe punishment would be -inflicted on those who disobeyed the order. The disobedient, he said, -would be sent back from the front, which, under the circumstances, -would be a humiliating disgrace for a soldier. - -Then he turned to Captain Herail and asked him to speak out "like a -soldier and without beating about the bush" and tell him why his wife -did not go away. Captain Herail endeavored to make an explanation, but -instead of saying that he had been struggling vainly to make her go -away, he tried, out of affection for his wife, to excuse her conduct -and to offer special reasons why she should remain. - -The colonel then lost his patience, and inflicted fifteen days close -arrest on the captain, and made a report to the general of the brigade -that the captain should be sent back to the depot at Narbonne. The -general approved the recommendation and in addition said that the -captain should not receive the Cross of the Legion of Honor for -which he had been recommended. The colonel ordered Major Bouchez, the -immediate superior to Captain Herail, to keep the latter under arrest -in his rooms at 26, rue de la Sous-Prefecture, Compiegne, where he -lodged with Mme. Masson. - - -III--DRAMATIC SCENE BETWEEN HUSBAND AND WIFE - -It was here that the climax of this unique drama occurred at about -8 o'clock in the evening. Major Bouchez came into Captain Herail's -room. The latter's wife remained concealed in the next room. She heard -everything that was said. Major Bouchez, who knew that she was there, -raised his voice so that she could hear perfectly the reproofs which he -addressed to his comrade. The interview lasted an hour and the major -demonstrated fully to Captain Herail the terrible and disgraceful -situation in which he would be placed, from a military point of view, -at this supreme crisis of the French nation, if he did not obey orders -by sending his wife away. - -"You will be sent before a court martial," said Major Bouchez, "for -refusing to obey the orders of your superiors, you will be struck from -the list of the Legion of Honor, and you will be sent back from the -front to the depot with the cripples and the old women. You would be -better off if you were dead." - -Captain Herail went into the next room and addressed his wife: - -"You have heard what he has said? I must insist that you go away -immediately. Go!" - -"I will not go," said Mme. Herail, squaring her shoulders and settling -down upon a divan. - -"I give you the order to go immediately," repeated her husband with -anger. - -"As a matter of morality," said Mme. Herail, "you have no right to give -me such an order." - -"We are not in the domain of abstract morality," replied the husband, -"but in the domain of civil and military law and you owe me obedience." - -"If you give me that order, everything will be over between us for -life, and anyhow, I will not obey the order," retorted Mme. Herail, -with remarkable feminine logic. - -"I give you two minutes to reflect," said the unfortunate captain, -whose emotions were getting terribly wrought up. - -He went back to the other room, where Major Bouchez was waiting for -him, took up his service revolver, and then returned to his wife's room. - -"Have you reflected? Is it no?" he asked, evidently anticipating his -wife's immovable obstinacy. - -"I will never leave you alive. I love you too much, Jean," said Madame -Herail. - -"Then you will leave me dead," said Captain Herail. - - -IV--"HE AIMED AT HIS WIFE--AND FIRED" - -Captain Herail then aimed point-blank at his wife with his revolver and -fired three shots at her. She fell to the ground dead, all three of the -bullets having passed through her head. Major Bouchez rushed in, saw -the body, and, as he testified at the trial, found Captain Herail in -tears and out of his mind with remorse. - -Witnesses said that the sorrow of Captain Herail was intense. He was -continually weeping, calling on the dead woman, and asking for his -three children. It was proved that during the eleven years they were -married he had shown the deepest affection for his wife, and it was -only the military disgrace she had brought upon him that could have -caused him to commit the act. - -He was married to his wife in 1904 when he was a lieutenant in the -First Regiment of Cuirassiers. She was then Mlle. Henriette Courel. -They both belonged to wealthy families and their marriage was an event -in fashionable society. They began life under the happiest auspices. -They were apparently a well-matched couple. He was very good-tempered -and easy-going, while she was a devoted wife and a model housekeeper, -but very jealous and extremely exacting. - -She required that her husband should have no interest in life apart -from her. At the annual military manoeuvres she insisted on following -him around, and he, from fear of being made ridiculous, asked her to -stay away, but she would not do so. His comrades called her his colonel. - -During the testimony relating to these facts Captain Herail's eyes were -wet with tears, and finally, when it came to the description of the -scene of the killing, he could not restrain himself at all and broke -into heartrending sobs. - -Then the presiding officer ordered him to stand up and relate what he -had to say in defence of his act. His tears continued to flow and at -first he was unable to utter an intelligible sentence. He could be -heard sobbing: - -"My poor wife! My poor wife!" - -After a time he was able to make a statement concerning his -difficulties with his wife, of which these were the most striking -passages: - -"If she had only let me fulfill my military duties we should have been -the happiest family possible. She was very good and very clever, but -she never would permit me to be away from her." - -The unfortunate captain, who had faced death from bullets, day after -day for months, without a tremor, while his comrades were falling all -around him, broke down as he spoke of his dead wife and buried his -nails in his flesh, unable to continue. The spectacle was an intensely -painful one and caused nearly everybody in the audience to weep, -including some of the officers on the bench. - -"What could I do?" went on the poor captain when he had recovered some -self-control. "I thought of handing in my resignation, and yet, I loved -my calling, although my promotion had been slow. I remained thirteen -years a simple lieutenant. - -"Naturally, I appeared a careless officer, without ardor, constantly -trying to get away from my daily duties. The truth is that my wife, -every time I went out, urged me to return home as soon as possible, -complaining that I was leaving her alone. - -"I wished to give my resignation, although it was a hard prospect for -me to leave the army a simple lieutenant without getting the Cross of -the Legion of Honor. I did not tell my conjugal difficulties to any one. - -"Then I was forced to abandon the idea of resigning, because my wife -would not agree to such a solution. She was proud of the service I was -in. - -"Our third child had just been born when my squadron was ordered to -start for the frontier of Morocco, where the war had just broken out. -Suddenly my wife, though still in delicate health, announced that she -would go with me, that she would make the campaign." - - -V--THE VERDICT--"NOT GUILTY!" - -The captain continued the history of his curiously troubled married -life up to the time of the outbreak of the present war. When he came to -the recital of the tragedy at Compiegne he lost all control of himself. -He said that the only thing with which he could reproach himself was -having concealed from his military superiors the truth concerning his -difficulties with his wife. - -Colonel Jacquillart, the president of the court martial, asked Captain -Herail sharply: - -"Why did you not use some other method than shooting your wife to end -the distressing situation?" - -"I tried every other means first," replied the captain, "and I must -have been mad with fear of disgrace to kill the wife I loved so much." - -Many military officers testified and gave Captain Herail a splendid -character. Colonel Meneville, who had recommended that the captain -should not receive the Legion of Honor on account of his disobeying the -order to send wives away, said that in every other respect Herail was -an excellent officer, brave and competent. - -Henri Robert, the most noted member of the Paris Bar, defended Captain -Herail eloquently. - -"A judge far more inexorable than any of you," said M. Robert, pointing -to the bench, "his mother-in-law, has forgiven him. She writes me -lauding him as an ideal man and officer and worthy of his country. His -dead wife's sisters and brothers also forgive him freely." - -The members of the court martial only took fifteen minutes to reach a -decision. They returned and rendered unanimously a simple verdict of -"Not guilty!" - -The verdict was received with frantic applause mingled with tears by -the audience. (Told in the _New York American_.) - - - - -HOW THEY KILLED "THE MAN WHO COULD NOT DIE" - -_Told by a Soldier Under General Cantore_ - - -I--STORY OF THE ITALIAN ALPINI - -They said he could not die. The men who fought under him in Tripoli, -the men who stood beside him in the bloody capture of Ala, looked on -Antonio Cantore with almost superstitious awe. For he ought to have -been killed a hundred times. A hundred times he came back, smiling -quietly behind his spectacles, out of perils through which other men -could not live. So the legend grew up among the Italian Alpini that -their commander led a charmed life; they said he had the camicia della -madonna and that bullets could not harm him. Death got him at last, but -those boys of his--as he used to call his soldiers--will not believe -it, even though they carved his tomb out of the rock and heaped the -earth over his body. - -Gen. Cantore was not a bit like a hero, as one pictures heroes. One -might have taken him for a schoolmaster, a clerk in the post office, -a retired commercial traveller. He was not tall, nor was his bearing -martial. His kind blue eyes looked mildly through his round spectacles. -His mouth laughed under his white mustache. He wore a black mackintosh -and walked with his head a little on one side and his hands in his -pockets. But he was not afraid. Neither was he foolhardy. He neither -feared nor courted death; he merely ignored it. He had the sublime -courage of the man who knows the danger so well that he will let no -one else face it, but will brave it all alone. - -The veterans of the Tripoli campaign talked in this wise to the young -recruits of the Alpini: - -"Look at that old man, with his kind face and gentle soul. He is the -father of the Alpini. He has seen them born and has brought them up, -all of them. They are his sons, his boys. With a word he has moulded -them according to his own heart of bronze; with a smile he has forged -them a heart of steel. You don't know him? Then you were not in Libya! -But go to him, say 'Good morning, General!' and tell him your name. -Ten years from now he will remember the name. And some night when you -are on outpost duty and the hail of bullets is most furious, and the -miaowing of the shells is maddest, when the air seems a-quiver with -death, and the darkness is shot through with arrows and flashes, and -the silence is shattered with bangs and explosions and roars, if your -heart trembles a moment as you think of your little ones at home and -the bells of the far-away village church ringing the Angelus, you will -see the old man, the General, Antonio Cantore, rise suddenly before -you, place himself between you and the enemy, shield you with his body. - -"For, you see, Antonio Cantore is everywhere and always ahead of -everybody. When you leap first into an enemy's trench, eyes aflame, -hands clawing, bayonet between your teeth, look ahead from the trench -in which you are battling, and between it and the second line of -trenches from which the enemy is still bombarding you with rapid-fire -guns you will see a kind old man, his eyes twinkling behind his -spectacles, his mouth smiling under its white mustaches, his hands in -his pockets, his head slightly bent and inclined to one side. It will -be Antonio Cantore. - -"For that old man, you see, is always everywhere and ahead of -everybody. And he cannot die. We have seen him return unscathed from -places where hundreds and hundreds have been killed. We have seen him -march without flinching right up to the cannon and the mitrailleuse. -Shells and bullets fall before him; they are afraid of his smile!" - - -II--"MY GOD! A GENERAL!" - -Thus the lengend grew and spread from the Adige to Leno, from the -Altissimo to Coni Zugna, from Pasubio to the Col Santo, wherever the -Alpini were engaged. - -And every hardy mountaineer who was called to the colors cheered his -loved ones on parting with the words: "Never fear! I am going to join -Antonio Cantore's brigade." - -One night on the slopes of Monte Campo, Gen. Cantore was on -reconnoitring patrol. For he was his own scout. Most commanders ask -for two or three volunteers for a night reconnaissance. This general, -instead, would say: "Are there two men who would like to come with me -to-night and inspect the enemy's barbed wire entanglements?" And all -the men would want to go. He would pick out two, saying to the others: -"No, no, boys; I need only two of you. Thank you, just the same. -Your time will come." To the chosen ones it was like a promotion or -receiving a medal of honor. - -And so, one night he was out scouting with only his sergeant as -company. "His" sergeant was Sergt. Cillario, a veteran of Libya, -who had stayed in the army just to be with Antonio Cantore, whom he -called "my" general. They had climbed a difficult mule-path toward -the Austrian trenches, the general leading, the sergeant following in -silence. - -At last the general told the sergeant to stop, and he went on alone. -When he would not permit a man to risk his life, that man did as he was -told. Only on such occasions did Gen. Cantore make his rank felt. He no -longer said: "Let us go, my boy," but "Sergeant, stay there." His boys -were not saints, but they obeyed. They had to, for otherwise he--raised -his voice and smiled no more! - -So that night, as on many others, he went on alone. And when his hands -touched the first barbed wire the sentries of the Austrian trenches -fired at him. This did not disconcert him. He went on with his hands -in his pockets, his head on one side, stooping to examine through his -spectacles the entanglements by the light of flashes from the enemy's -guns. He was ten yards from the Austrian trench, a single dark shadow -advancing like fate through the volleys, an invulnerable shadow seeking -out the interstices of the barbed wire entanglements to find spaces -through which men might pass, scrutinizing them with the calm interest -of a botanist examining a garden. - -A Tryolean kaiserjaeger, who has been taking careful aim at him, saw -the insignia of his rank. - -"My God! a General!" he exclaimed, and let his rifle fall. - - -III--TALES OF GENERAL CANTORE - -When the town of Ala was carried by assault last June he was the first -to enter it. He went through the hail of bullets with the same calmness -as he would have gone through a rainstorm, and as unscathed. - -When the Austrians fled a group of about one hundred and fifty took -refuge in the Cafe 25 Maggio in the piazza then called Moses, and in -the Villa Brazil, almost opposite, determined to resist to the last -in order to cover the retreat. Gen. Cantore said the lieutenant in -command of the nearest platoon, "Come on." They went to the door of -the cafe. "Make them open," he said, "but leave your pistol. They won't -fire." But they did, sending a shower of bullets from the windows. -Neither of the Italians was hit. - -"They won't open," said the lieutenant. - -"I'll make them," said Cantore. He approached the door, armed only with -his riding whip. Another volley greeted him, and shots from the windows -of the Villa Brazil. He was unwounded, but he lost his calm as he cried: - -"Charge, boys, charge! Burst the place open and take them all -prisoners!" - -The fight lasted a quarter of an hour. The walls, windows and door of -the cafe were shot full of holes; the Villa Brazil was turned into a -ruin. The few Austrians left alive were made prisoners. - -That street is now the Piazza Antonio Cantore. - -When the fight was over Gen. Cantore and a few other officers sat down -to dine in the Albergo di Ala. There were three girls from Roverto -who had taken refuge there. They were so pretty that they were called -the "three graces." They waited on the diners. Gen. Cantore chatted -with them, joking one especially, whose name was Pina, calling her -affectionately by pet names--Pinotta, Pinella, Pinina, Pignotta, -Pignina--laughing like a big boy. When he rose from dinner he took her -chin in his hand and said: - -"Poor little Pina, far away from thy home! But we shall soon be at -Roverto, and thou wilt come to Roverto right after us. Then thou wilt -be happy again, eh?" - -But Antonio Cantore was never to see Roverto. A man cannot snub Death -indefinitely. Death had to get even with Cantore, or remain forever -discredited. One day he had his revenge. - -It was on July 20. The Alpini, under Gen. Cantore, were in the -Ampazzano valley, trying to dislodge the Austrians from the slopes of -the three mountains called Tofana di Rozzes, Tofana di Mezzo and Tofana -di Dentro, whence they were able to fire on Cortina and other towns. -Between the Tofana di Rozzes and the Tofana di Mezzo was a refuge hut -for chamois hunters from which Austrian sharpshooters picked off the -Italian soldiers at their leisure. The refuge hut had been bombarded, -but the effect was doubtful. - -At 12.30 o'clock Gen. Cantore and Capt. Argenteri started to explore -the place. They reached the advanced trenches by 5.15 o'clock. The -Austrians were still firing from the hidden hut. Cantore and the -Captain tried to locate the precise spot, but could not. - -"Captain, we will go up higher and look," said the General. They -climbed up the slope and hid behind some rocks. As they peeped over -these the sun shone straight in Cantore's face. - -"I cannot see well," he called to the Captain. Then he stood up and -was placing his field-glasses to his eyes when three shots rang out. -Cantore fell, with two bullets in his forehead. He died instantly. - -"His" sergeant, veteran of many battles, grown callous by the sight and -suffering, asked a month's leave of absence to go away and mourn for -his general. In Verona he walked about like a spectre, his face ghastly -and set. They asked, "How did the General die?" And Cillario answered, -"Antonio Cantore is not dead. Antonio Cantore could not die." (Told in -the _New York World_.) - - - - -HOW MLLE. DUCLOS WON THE LEGION OF HONOR - -_Story of a Woman Who Drove Her Auto at Full Speed into a German Force_ - -_Told by an Eye-Witness_ - - -I--DECORATED BY MARSHAL JOFFRE - - PARIS, Sept. 24. - -The two most romantic and brilliant features of the war, the two -things that have relieved it from being a dull record of close-range -slaughter, have been the use of flying machines and automobiles. - -Flying machines may appear more romantic and spectacular to the -outsider, but those who have seen the war at close quarters are of the -opinion that the most astonishing and brilliant feats of arms have been -performed by motor cars. - -The experience of Mlle. Helene Duclos, who annihilated practically a -whole German company with her automobile, is one of the many amazing -instances of the use of this comparatively novel instrument of war. -Other cases in the various warring countries have, perhaps, been -equally remarkable, but hers necessarily gains added interest from the -fact that she is a woman, and a very attractive one. - -It has been shown that a high-powered armored motor car, running at -sixty miles an hour, can, under certain conditions, disorganize a whole -army and slaughter scores of soldiers. If driven into a body of men -in close formation and taken by surprise its powers of injury are -unlimited. - -Armored cars have been used for the terribly difficult work of removing -barbed wire entanglements. The car runs up to the entanglements, throws -grapnel irons over them, and then backs away to uproot them. The -armored car can do this work under a fire that exposed men could not -live in. - -Armored cars are employed in cooperation with flying machines. The -aviator brings information where a car can do most damage, and then -hovers overhead, giving warning to the motormen when they must retire -or, return for help if necessary. An armored car crew connected with -the British Naval Flying Corps has received honorable mention for -annihilating a whole party of Uhlans. - -Some armored cars carry two machine guns and others a gun of larger -calibre. - -Mlle. Duclos's motor exploit has made her the great heroine of the -moment. She has been decorated by General Joffre with the cross of the -Legion of Honor for her brilliant and heroic act. - - -II--MLLE. DUCLOS TELLS HER STORY - -"I was determined to do something for my country in the fighting field, -something that the Germans would remember--something more than soothing -the fevered brow," said Mlle. Duclos, describing her exploits. "My -great-grandfather was a captain of grenadiers under Napoleon, and the -blood of generations of soldiers runs in my veins. - -"My first ambition was to enlist in the fighting automobile service. -I had been used to running all kinds of cars since my childhood, and -was as fit for this work as any human being could be. But I found the -authorities obdurate. They simply would not let a woman into the -combatant services. I tried disguising myself as a man, but the rigid -physical examination made this attempt useless. - -"Finally it seemed to me that the only way of reaching the front was -to join a volunteer motor ambulance corps, as several other women had -done. I transformed a 60-horsepower, eight-seated touring car into a -motor ambulance for four badly wounded men or eight slightly wounded -ones. I qualified for the service and was authorized to proceed to the -front in Alsace, accompanied by a mechanician. - -"While performing my ambulance duties I had a good opportunity to watch -the armored automobiles, and realized that their work was the most -exciting and perhaps the most decisive of the war." - -One day Mlle. Duclos, having taken some wounded men to the field -hospital, was returning once more to the fighting line. Eager for -adventure she drove her car up a mountain road, which was not included -in the trench zone, and entered a wild, mountainous country, from -which the French were desperately trying to drive the Germans by flank -attacks, surprises, air raids and other stratagems. - -Soon the rattle of rifle bullets and machine gun fire close at hand -caught her attention. A turn in the road brought her in sight of a big -armored French car that stood disabled in the middle of the road. The -engine had been smashed by a shell. The Germans were firing at it from -cover some distance away. The French soldiers were firing away from the -protection of the armor with their machine guns and their rifles, but -they were handicapped by the immobility of the car, and the Germans -were gradually encircling them. Three of the eight Frenchmen forming -the crew of the car lay dead in the road, killed while they had exposed -themselves in an attempt to repair the engine. - -Mlle. Duclos saw three German soldiers rise from cover and advance in -an effort to rush the car. They were shot down, but she saw that in a -few more minutes the Frenchmen must be overwhelmed. - -Taking in the situation at a glance, the experienced motorist sped up -to the injured car and backed up her machine before she stopped. - -"Get in," she cried to the French soldiers, "or you will be taken in -another minute." - -The five Frenchmen jumped into Mlle. Duclos's car with their rifles. -Under a rain of bullets she sped back by the way she had come. Luckily -they all escaped, and a turn in the zigzag road soon put them out of -danger. - -The Germans must have taken possession of the car in a leisurely manner -after the escape of the French. It was precious booty to them. Probably -they tried to repair it, and, finding that impossible, started to tow -it back. - -The Frenchmen were not satisfied to escape with their lives and leave -their car behind. Mlle. Duclos had noted carefully the direction of the -surrounding roads. After running back a short distance she found a road -that would lead them to the one that the Germans would follow on their -way back. - -The French officer in charge of the party insisted on taking the -steering wheel of the car, but Mlle. Duclos demonstrated that she was -the only one who could get the best speed out of her car. Thus she -forced them to let her stay in the place of danger. - -Behind a pile of rocks that marked the meeting of the roads they lay in -wait for the returning Germans. - -Up the road came the Germans tugging at a rope that drew the great -disabled French armored car. There were about forty of them, -practically half a company, minus the men who had already fallen in the -fight. - -It was impossible for the five Frenchmen to cope with them in any -ordinary fight. Only surprise and stratagem could hope to meet the -situation. - - -III--SHE PLUNGES HER MOTOR INTO THE GERMANS - -Mlle. Duclos immediately suggested that she should drive the car -straight down on the unsuspecting Germans. Her opportunity for a great -action had come. She seized it. - -Down hill upon the toiling Germans flew the great 60-horsepower -car. Straight as an arrow it went, with the weight of its two tons -multiplied a hundred times by its speed and downward course. - -All the Germans in its full path went down like ripe corn before the -scythe. Straight it flew on without being swerved in the slightest -degree by the human obstacles in its way. - -Severed heads flew up in the air and arms and legs were chopped off by -the flying car. Ghastly fragments of flesh and bone, a muddy mixture -of blood and viscera, human remains that had nothing human about them, -spattered the wheels and the body and all the occupants of the car. - -"I felt like the very incarnation of the spirit of destruction and -revenge," says Mlle. Duclos describing this wild scene. "I was not -human." - -The car flew on its path of death until it reached the captured French -armored car. Mlle. Duclos missed this by an incalculable fraction of -an inch and then slowly brought her racing car to a stop. - -The French soldiers looked back. Only a few German soldiers, who were -out of the path of the auto, had escaped death or maiming. Perhaps -there were six in all, and they were aghast at the demon of death that -had swept through them. - -The French soldiers showered the Germans with hand grenades and would -probably have overcome the rest of the party and recaptured their auto, -when a party of Uhlans was seen riding up the road from the direction -of the German lines. - -It appeared that scouting aviators of both sides had witnessed -the fight over the armored car and had carried word back to their -respective forces. - -Once more the gallant French motor fighters were in danger of being -wiped out. Acting in co-operation with the officer, Mlle. Duclos ran -her car back again, putting it between the survivors of the first -German party and the new reinforcements. This move put the former at a -great disadvantage, as they were standing about in a flat, open place, -but, of course, it exposed the Frenchmen to the newly arriving German -forces. - -The Frenchmen with rifles and pistols disposed of the remnant of the -first German party, and then started to hitch their disabled car to -Madame Durand's machine. - -A shower of bullets from the German side warned them that their gallant -efforts would probably be in vain. - -"Whir-r-r! whir-r-r!" came the frightful scream of war cars from the -direction of the French lines. - -Two powerful French armored cars sped down the road, with machine guns -spouting death, and engaged the German reinforcements. - -At the conclusion of this new battle the five French motor fighters -were able to secure their disabled car, and Mlle. Duclos at the wheel -of her own car led the glorious wreck back in triumph. - -Thus it happened that she received the military cross of the Legion of -Honor and is the heroine of the hour.--(_New York American._) - - - - -THE RUSSIAN "JOAN OF ARC'S" OWN STORY - - _Told by Mme. Alexandra Kokotseva, the "Russian Joan of Arc," - Colonel Commanding the Sixth Ural Cossack Regiment--Translated from - a Letter Forwarded from Petrograd to Friends in New York_ - - -I--"BELIEVE NONE OF THOSE GERMAN LIES" - -As Jessaul (Colonel) of my dashing Cossack regiment I must be discreet -in my letter writing. Only last week one of my officers--in fact the -Sotnik (Captain) himself--let himself in for a nice wigging from the -department censor by heading a letter to his mother in Moscow with the -name of the nearest village to our regimental headquarters and the -exact date. All such details are "verboten," as the Austrian would say -whose bullet has given me this nice little rest in the field hospital. - -Do not worry on my account. In a week I shall sit just as firmly in -my saddle as ever. Never was a wounded soldier of either sex more -petted and coddled than I am. Every day my little ones (Cossacks of her -regiment) almost bury me under Spring flowers. - -"Listen, Batjuschka," I had to say just now to the grimmest and -fiercest of them--a grizzled giant who only yesterday captured six -Austrians single-handed--"do you wish to see your Jessual shedding -tears like a mere woman? For shame! About face--march!" - -But the wretch had the audacity to try and kiss my hand--he left a tear -on it, anyway. When I'm out I shall have to discipline him severely! - -My splendid Cossacks! Who would have thought that they would consent -to be commanded by a woman? Often have I told you of their superior -attitude toward women. They expect their women to work for them, -to serve them and be always submissive. Evidently my fierce little -ones consider me as a sort of Superwoman. Or, perhaps they do not -consider me a woman at all--except now that I am wounded and in the -hospital--and respect merely my colonel's uniform. Truly it has little -in common with the Tartar shirt, half-coat and foot-gear and kerchief -of their sisters and wives. At any rate they obey my slightest wish, -perform the most reckless deeds, gayly court death, to win my approval. - -If you should be writing to Paul ----, or to Anna in America, be sure -and tell them to believe none of those German lies. Not one of my -fire-eating Cossacks has been guilty of offering indignities to a woman -of the enemy. Maybe my little ones do some burning and looting--if my -back is turned--but to act in a beastly way to women and children, no! - - -II--"TO MY FRIENDS IN AMERICA" - -You have heard of us in the enemy's country. Ah, there was fat living! -Eggs by the hundred thousand; egg pancakes to tighten the belts of a -whole army, and mutton and beef without stint. We grew fat. Our ragged -and gaunt Austrian prisoners looked upon us with envy. Soon they also -were fat! - -You know that we of the Cossack regiments have little to do with -the fighting in trenches. For us it is to make forays, to make -whirlwind attacks upon detachments of the enemy guarding their line -of communications, and capture positions badly defended by artillery. -I may be permitted to instance our usefulness on the frontier of -Galicia, between the Dniester and Pruth. It was my Cossacks who -surprised the Austrians at Okna. - -The Austrians were intrenched. Our infantry attacked, but were -repulsed. Ah, then you should have beheld my little ones! There were -two Cossack regiments--two thousand dashing, fierce fellows--itching -for a hand-to-hand encounter with the despised Teutons. As the infantry -were retreating my little ones were given their chance. - -Yelling madly and firing their carbines, they galloped west and east, -covering a long front to convince the Austrians that they were in large -force. The ruse worked. The enemy started to retreat to the southwest. -Before they were clear of their trenches the Cossacks were riding them -down, plying the cold steel right and left and cutting off large bodies -for prisoners--finally taking the position. - -That is the work at which my fine fire-eaters are famous. The Sotnik -(Captain) of my regiment sent to me a bloodstained, grizzled victor in -a hundred battles who begged the privilege of presenting to me seven -caps belonging to the Austrian infantry service uniform, each pierced -through its crown. Like so many grouse, they were skewered upon my -brave Cossack's bayonet. - -"Thank you, Batjuschka, but I am not hungry," I said, for my little -ones do not mind being teased. "Neither are they hungry who lately -wore them," was the quick answer. "Where are those seven Austrians?" -I asked, looking about in pretended stupidity. "With God," said my -gallant Cossack, as he reverently crossed himself. "Ah," I said, -"afterwards you went back and with your bayonet skewered each Austrian -cap where it lay beside its dead owner." "No," he replied gravely, -"with my bayonet I skewered each cap with the same thrust that sent its -owner to God." And again he crossed himself. - -It was all true--there were witnesses of the encounter--seven to one, -and all the seven now "with God." - -Do you shudder when I write to you of these things? Do you say to -yourself that "this terrible war" has robbed me of all my estimable -"woman's weaknesses?" Do you picture me brazenly calloused to scenes -of human agony and violent deaths for thousands in a single engagement -which probably has no effect upon the final outcome? - -You would be wrong. It is simply that if you are a soldier it is your -duty to kill, and perhaps to be killed, in defense of your country. No -matter how dreadful the things that happen, they are inseparable from -war and you must get used to them. Gradually you do get used to them. -If you did not your services to your country would be of no value. -You would not be a true soldier, who must be able always to shrug his -shoulders and say to himself, "Well, such things happen," and then go -on faithfully with his soldier's work. - -But believe me, these duties performed as well as I am able to -perform them, promotions, honors--afterward they will be as nothing -compared with what is dear to me as a woman. Through all this violence -and carnage and misery I know that I shall have gained in all that -becomes a woman--in faithfulness, tenderness, pity for the poor and -unfortunate, and in charity. - - - - -AN ITALIAN SOLDIER'S LAST MESSAGE TO HIS MOTHER - -_Translated by Father Pasquale Maltese_ - - This is an extraordinary revelation of the heart of an Italian - soldier. It is the last letter to his mother written by a young - poet who fell on the Isonzo leading a platoon in battle. Father - Pasquale Maltese, pastor of the church of St. Anthony, New York, - translates it for _The Parish Monthly_ as an "inspiration to the - youth of every land." - - -I--"TO DIE A BEAUTIFUL AND GLORIOUS DEATH" - -MOTHER: - -This letter, which you will receive only in case that I should fall -in this battle, I am writing in an advanced trench, where I have been -since last night, with my soldiers, in expectation of the order to -cross the river and move to the attack. - -I am calm, perfectly serene, and firmly resolved to do my duty in full -and to the last, like a brave and good soldier, confident to the utmost -of our final unfailing victory; although I am not equally sure that I -will live to see it. But this uncertainty does not trouble me in the -least, nor has it any terror for me. I am happy in offering my life to -my country; I am proud to spend it for so noble a purpose, and I know -not how to thank Divine Providence for the opportunity--which I deem -an honor--afforded me, on this fulgent autumnal day, in the midst of -this enchanting valley of our Julian Venetia, while I am in the prime -of life, in the fulness of my physical and mental powers, to fight in -this holy war for liberty and justice. All is propitious to me, all -is favorable to die a beautiful and glorious death; the weather, the -place, the season, the opportunity, the age. A better end could not -have crowned my life, and I feel the pleasure to have made a good and -generous use of it. Do not grieve over my death, mother, or else you -will offend my good fortune. Do not weep, mother, for it was written -in Heaven that I should die. Do not mourn, mother, or else you would -regret my happiness. I am not to be mourned but envied. - -You know the ineffable hopes that give me comfort because they are the -very same hopes in which you also have placed all that is dear to you. -When you read these words of mine, I will be free, unfettered and in a -safe place, far from the miseries of this world. My struggle will be -finished and I shall be peaceful; my daily death shall have come to an -end, and I shall have reached the place on high, to the life without -end. I shall be face to face with the Judge whom I have greatly feared, -to the Lord whom I have greatly loved. - -Think of it, mother dear, when you read these words. I shall view you -from heaven, side by side with our dear ones, with father, with my dear -Laura, with Dino, our Guardian Angel. We shall be in the regions above, -all united to celebrate your arrival, to watch over you and over Gino, -to prepare for you, with our prayers, the place of your everlasting -glory. Should not this thought alone be sufficient to dry your tears -and to fill you with unspeakable joy? - - -II--"WEEP NOT, MY DEAR MOTHER" - -No, no, weep not, my dear and saintly mother, and be brave, as you -have always been. Should the pleasure of having offered to our adored -Italy, this glorious land, this land predestined by God, should the -pleasure of having offered the sacrifice of the life of one of your -sons, be not sufficient for you, remember, nevertheless, that you must -not rebel, not even for one instant, to the divinely wise and divinely -loving decrees of our Lord. If He wanted to reserve me for other -work, He could have permitted me to survive. Since He has called me -to Himself, it is a sign that such was the best thing that could have -happened and the best thing for me. He knows what He is doing, and it -remains for us to bow and to adore, accepting with trustful joy His -most Exalted Will. - -I do not bemoan life. I have tasted of all its insane infatuations and -have withdrawn with an insurmountable weariness and disgust. - -Like a young prodigal son, after so many wanderings, having returned to -the house of the father, I could have hoped now, and reasonably so, to -taste of the good joys, the joys of duties well performed, of the good -practised and preached, the joys born of art, of labor, of charity, of -a fruitful mind. - -Side by side with the good, beautiful girl whom you know and esteem, -and whom I have always loved, always so tenderly, timidly and -faithfully loved, even in the midst of my errors and blameworthy -blunders, I could have hoped to make a good husband and a good father. - -In the world there are so many battles to fight, for love, for -justice, for liberty, for the faith, and for a time I must confess, I -presumptuously believed myself predestined and assigned to the arduous -and terrible task of winning one or another of these battles. - -All this was, I admit, beautiful, flattering, desirable, but it cannot -compare with my present lot. This is the very truth, and indeed I -cannot say whether I would really be satisfied if the writing of this -letter would have been in vain. Life is sad; it is a painful and -annoying duty, a long exile in the uncertainty of our own lot. In -order that life might go quickly in accordance with my wishes, and -without leaving me in a thousand disappointments, there would be need -of many very rare and difficult occurrences. Besides, I am and I feel -weak, I have not the least confidence in myself. The whole battle -against the ingratitude and wickedness of the world would not have -frightened me as much as the battle against myself. It is better, -therefore, dear mother, as it has happened. The Lord, in His wise and -infinite goodness, has reserved for me just the destiny that was fit -for me; a destiny that is easy, sweet, honorable, rapid; to die in -battle for one's country. - -With this beautiful and praiseworthy past, fulfilling the most desired -of all duties as a good citizen towards the land that gave him birth, -I depart, in the midst of the tears of all those that love me, from -a life toward which I felt weary and disgusted. I leave the failings -of life, I leave sin, I leave the sad and afflicted spectacle of the -small and momentary triumphs of evil over good. I leave to my humble -body the weight of all my chains and I fly away, free, free in the end, -to the heavens above, where resides our Father, to the heavens above, -where His holy will is always done. Just imagine, dear mother, with -what joy I will receive from His hands even the chastisements that His -justice will impose on account of my sins. He Himself has paid all -these chastisements by His superabundant merits, a God of mercy and -of love, redeeming me with His precious blood, living and dying here -below for my sake. Only through His grace, only through Jesus Christ, -could I have succeeded that my sins be not my eternal death. He has -seen the tears of my sorrow, He has pardoned me through the mouth of -His spotless spouse, the Church. I do sincerely hope that the Madonna, -so loving and kind toward us, will assist me with her powerful help in -the instant when my eternity will be decided. - - -III--"GOOD-BYE, MOTHER--WE SHALL NOT DIE IN VAIN" - -And as I am about to speak of forgiveness, dear mother, I have only -one thing to say with all simplicity: Forgive me! Forgive me all the -sorrows that I have caused you; all the agonies that you have suffered -on my account every time I have been ungrateful, stubborn, forgetful, -disobedient toward you. Forgive me if, by neglect and inexperience, I -have failed to render your life more comfortable and tranquil since the -day when my father, by his premature death, entrusted you to my care. -Now I understand well the many wrongs I have been guilty of toward you, -and I feel all the remorse and cruel anguish now that dying I have to -entrust you to the providence of the Lord. Forgive me lastly this final -sorrow that I have inflicted upon you, perhaps not without stubborn -and cruel inconsideration on my part, in giving up my life voluntarily -for my country, fascinated by the attractions of this beautiful lot. -Forgive me also if I have not sufficiently recognized and tried to -compensate the incomparable nobility of your soul, of your heart, so -immense and sublime. Mother, truly perfect and exemplary, to whom I owe -all that I am and the least good I have done in this world. - -I have so many things to say to you that a book could hardly contain -them. Nothing else, therefore, is left me but to recommend you to our -Gino, on whose goodness, on whose integrity, and on whose strength -of will, I put all trust. Tell him in my name to serve willingly -our country as long as she will have need of him, to serve her with -abnegation, with ardor, with enthusiasm, even unto death, should that -be necessary. Should he be destined to live a long and struggling life, -let him be equal to it with serenity, with firmness, with indomitable -love for justice and honesty, trusting always in the triumph of good -with God's grace. Let him be a good husband and a good father; let -him raise up his children in the love of God, respect for the Church, -fidelity toward our King, to the observance of the law, to scrupulous -devotion to our beloved country. Think often of us here above; speak -of us among yourselves; remember us and love us as when we were alive, -because we shall always be with you. - -Pray often for me, for I am in need of it. Be courageous in the trials -of life, as you have always been strong and energetic in the midst -of the tempest of your earthly career; continue to be humble, pious, -charitable, so that the peace of God may always be with you. - -Good-bye, mother; good-bye, Gino, my dear and my beloved! I embrace -you with all the ardor of my immense love, which has increased a -hundredfold during my absence in the midst of the dangers and hardships -of the war. Here, far away from the world, always with the image of -imminent death, I have felt how strong are the ties that bind us to -this world; how mankind is in need of mutual love, of faith in each -other, of discipline, of harmony, of unity, what necessary and sacred -things are the fatherland, the home, the family; how blameworthy is the -person who renounces these, who betrays and oppresses them. - -Love and freedom for all, this is the ideal for which it is a pleasure -to offer one's life. May God cause our sacrifice to be fruitful; may -He take pity upon mankind, forgive and forget their offenses, and give -them peace. Then, oh! dear mother, we shall not have died in vain. Just -one more tender kiss. - - GIOSUE BORSI. - - - - - * * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's Notes - -Obvious errors of punctuation and diacritical markings were corrected. - -Inconsistent hyphenation was made consistent. - -Both "dug-out" and "dugout" are used frequently and have not been -changed. - -"of" added in "Permission of New York American" in table of contents -entry for "HOW MLLE. DUCLOS...". - -P. 35: One the face of it -> On the face of it. - -P. 35: These stiplations -> These stipulations. - -P. 82: There were a group -> They were a group. - -P. 94: The Advance to Monse -> The Advance to Mons. - -P. 96: secure a birth -> secure a berth. - -P. 115: we could could procure -> we could procure. - -P. 133: Aerschat -> Aerschot. - -P. 134: The sequal to my one-hundredth flight -> The sequel to my -one-hundredth flight. - -P. 143: Deisel -> Diesel. - -P. 158: But I've illusions -> But I've no illusions. - -P. 176: There it a pretty little comedy -> There is a pretty little -comedy. - -P. 178: as had been been anticipated -> as had been anticipated. - -P. 180: Deutschland, Deutschland, ueber Allies -> Deutschland, -Deutschland, ueber Alles. - -P. 182: It that mine exploded -> If that mine exploded. - -P. 186: undergoing the the process -> undergoing the process. - -P. 186: immediate requiremenst -> immediate requirements. - -P. 191: this his previous blunder -> that his previous blunder. - -P. 192: one well swoop -> one fell swoop. - -P. 195: back in in Petersburg -> back in Petersburg. - -P. 198: non-combatatants -> non-combatants. - -P. 204: barely distinguishable roads -> barely distinguishable road. - -P. 206: descended on her shoulder -> descend on her shoulder. - -P. 208: keepers of the the forest -> keepers of the forest. - -P. 214: the German had fired -> the Germans had fired. - -P. 220: as thought he meant -> as though he meant. - -P. 221: turned be back -> turned me back. - -P. 222: obession of my fear -> obsession of my fear. - -P. 231: Flemish titler -> Flemish title. - -P. 241: without specal orders -> without special orders. - -P. 266: Jilfla -> Jilfi. - -P. 273: leave a comrade die like a dog -> leave a comrade to die like -a dog. - -P. 276: jeun docteur Allemand -> jeune docteur Allemand. - -P. 282: a public vehicles -> a public vehicle. - -P. 284: les majeste -> lese majeste. - -P. 309: Vive Verund -> Vive Verdun. - -P. 317: the old wail of sorow -> the old wail of sorrow. - -P. 325: Every one us -> Every one of us. - -P. 334: replied the hsuband -> replied the husband. - -P. 340: Thus the lengend grew -> Thus the legend grew. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRUE STORIES OF THE GREAT WAR, -VOLUME VI (OF 6)*** - - -******* This file should be named 51206.txt or 51206.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/1/2/0/51206 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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