d. It
was a queer sensation to peer through field glasses and see the Russian
shells veer a few hundred feet to the right. I saw one strike a
windmill, shattering the long arms and crumpling it over in a slow
burning heap. Then we beat a retreat, further toward the center.

"We had been standing behind a slight declivity. I hadn't caught a
glimpse of the enemy. Shells were the only things that apprised us
of the Russian nearness. But as we passed out on an open field,
considerably out of range of the field guns, I could see occasional
flashes that bespoke field pieces, a mile or so away.

RUSSIAN INFANTRY CHARGES

"Back behind us, on the extreme left, I was told the Russians were
attacking the German trenches by an infantry charge, the German field
telephone service having apprised the commanders along the front. With
glasses we could see a faint line of what must have been the Russian
infantry rushing across the open fields.

"We passed on to the center, going slightly to the rear for horses. As
we arrived at the right wing we witnessed the last of a Russian infantry
advance at that end. The wave of Russians had swept nearly to the German
trenches, situated between two sections of field artillery, and there
had been repulsed. Russians were smeared across in front of these pits,
dead, dying, or wounded--cut down by the terrible spray of German
machine guns.

"I got up to the trenches as the German fire slackened because of the
lack of targets. The Russians had gone back. Strewn in the trenches
were countless empty shells, the bullets of which had, as it looked to
inexpert eyes, slain thousands. As a matter of fact, there were hundreds
of dead in the field ahead.

GUN BARRELS SIZZLING HOT

"German infantrymen spat on their rapid firers as we reached the trench
and delightedly called our attention to the sizzle that told how hot the
barrels were from the firing.

"The men stretched their cramped limbs, helped a few wounded to the
rear, and waited for breakfast. It was not long forthcoming. Small lines
of men struggling along tinder steaming buckets came hurrying up to the
accompaniment of cheers and shouts. They bore soup that the men in the
trenches gulped down ravenously. Meanwhile men with the white brassard
and the red Geneva cross were busy out in the open, lending succor to
the Russian wounded. The battle seemed to have come to a sudden halt.

"But even as I was getting soup, the artillery fusillade broke