s practically annihilated six German regiments, including
the crack Second regiment of Prussian Guards, has been graphically
described by an eye-witness as follows:

"A long valley stretches out before us and the little rise on which we
stand--about fifty feet above the plain--commands it. The British guns
are shooting almost horizontally at the German infantry trudging through
the mud 2,000 yards away.

"I count easily five regiments together, but further to the right a
sixth one evidently wards off a flank attack on the part of the French
colonial troops. The lone regiment is the Second Prussian regiment of
the guard, the emperor's own, the elite of the Kaiser's army, 2,500 of
the brawniest, most disciplined men in the world. It is now 1 o'clock.
In one hour only 300 of these men will leave the field.

"A gust of wind brings to our ears the sound of music. The guards' band
is encouraging the men. At the foot of the small hill on which we stand
are twenty lines of trenches filled with Scotch and English infantry.
The men are silently awaiting the attack. Not a rifle is being fired.
The trenches are the Germans' goal; these and the British batteries once
taken, the road into Ypres is clear.

"In the valley the Germans halt. The range is only 1,500 yards now and
every British shot is telling. The effects are appalling. The gray
masses move onward once more, seem to hesitate, but sharp bugle blasts
launch them forward again and on the run they come for the trenches.

"At 1,000 yards our batteries again stop them. Whole rows are
mowed down, vast spaces appearing between the ranks. The companies
intermingle, then the regiments themselves seem to amalgamate and
melt into one another. Officers are seen galloping along the sides,
evidently trying to bring order out of chaos.

"The artillerymen work silently, the perspiration streaming down their
cheeks, and continue sending on their messengers of death.

"The Second regiment of the Guard alone, off to the right, seems
untouched, and on it comes. Suddenly the sound of a bagpipe is heard.
The Scots are awake. From the trenches an avalanche rushes forward
toward the disordered Germans.

"At the double-quick Scots and English, a few feet apart, yelling like
demons, pounce on the attackers. Rifles are silent. It is cold steel
alone. Our battery captains cry 'Stop firing.' There is a risk of
shelling our own men now. We become spectators.

"On the right the Guard has sudde