our captain meant that we should see all the fun
that was going, so he took us right up to the front positions. We went
through the wood silently in single file, taking care that if possible
not even a twig should crackle under our feet, till we came to the very
front trenches at the edge of the wood. We crouched down and watched for
some time. Everything was brilliantly illuminated by the moonlight, and
we had to be very careful not to show ourselves. A very fierce German
attack was going on, and the bullets were pattering like hail on the
trees all round us. We could see nothing for some time but the smoke of
the rifles.

The Germans were only about a hundred yards away from us at this time,
and we could see the river Rawka glittering below in the moonlight. What
an absurd little river to have so much fighting about. That night it
looked as if we could easily wade across it. The captain made a sign,
and we crept with him along the edge of the wood, till we got to a
Siberian officer's dug-out. At first we could not see anything, then we
saw a hole between two bushes, and after slithering backwards down the
hole, we got into a sort of cave that had been roofed in with poles and
branches, and was absolutely invisible a few steps away. It was
fearfully hot and frowzy--a little stove in the corner threw out a great
heat, and the men all began to smoke, which made it worse.

We stayed a while talking, and then crawled along to visit one of the
men's dug-outs, a German bullet just missing us as we passed, and
burying itself in a tree. There were six men already in the dug-out, so
we did not attempt to get in, but gave them tobacco and matches, for
which they were very grateful. These men had an "ikon" or sacred picture
hanging up inside their cave; the Russian soldiers on active service
carry a regimental ikon, and many carry them in their pockets too. One
man had his life saved by his ikon. He showed it to us; the bullet had
gone just between the Mother and the Child, and was embedded in the
wood.

It was all intensely interesting, and we left the positions with great
reluctance, to return through the moonlit pine-woods till we reached our
cart. We had indeed made a night of it, for it was five o'clock in the
morning when we got back to the train once more, and both the doctor and
I were on duty again at eight. But it was well worth losing a night's
sleep to go up to the positions during a violent German attack. I wonder