"A happy feature of the charge was the gallant conduct of Captain Grenfell, who, though twice wounded, called for volunteers and saved the guns. It is said that he has been recommended for the Victoria Cross.
"After this terrible ordeal the British brigade was harassed for fourteen days of retreat, the enemy giving them rest neither day nor night. At 2 o'clock each morning they were roused by artillery fire, and every day they fought a retiring action, pursued relentlessly by the guns.
"It was a wonderful retreat. Daily the cavalry begged to be allowed to go for the enemy in force to recover lost ground, but only once were they permitted to taste that joy, at the village of Lassigny, which they passed and repassed three times.
"The Germans made repeated efforts, which were always foiled, to capture the retreating transport. It had, however, many narrow escapes. At one point it escaped by a furious gallop which enabled the wagons to cross a bridge less than an hour ahead of the enemy. The engineers had mined the bridge and were waiting to blow it up. They sent a hurry-up call to the transport, and the latter responded with alacrity. The bridge was blown up just in time to separate the two forces. "At Compiègne the brigade for the first time saw and welcomed their French brothers-in-arms."
BOY SCOUT HERO OF THE WAR
One of the popular heroes of Belgium is Boy Scout Leysen, who has been decorated by King Albert for his valor and devotion to his country.
This young man, who was born at Liège, is described as of almost uncanny sharpness, with senses and perceptions as keen as an Indian. He was able to find his way through the woods and pass the German sentinels with unerring accuracy.
Leysen made his way through the German lines from Antwerp for the tenth time on Sunday, September 6, carrying dispatches to secret representatives of the Belgian government in Brussels. He discovered and denounced eleven German spies in Belgium, and performed a variety of other services, and all without impairing his boyish simplicity.
KAISER ASKS FOR PRAYERS
After the first three weeks of war, Emperor William requested the supreme council of the Evangelical Church throughout the German empire to include the following prayer in the liturgy at all public services during the war:
"Almighty and most merciful God, God of the armies, we beseech Thee in humility for Thy almighty aid for German Fatherland. Bless our forces of war; lead us to victory and give us grace that we may show ourselves to be Christians toward our enemies as well. Let us soon arrive at a peace which will everlastingly safeguard our free and independent Germany."
SPIRIT OF FRENCH WOMEN
When sympathy was expressed in Paris for a poor woman, mother of nine sons, eight of whom were at the front, she replied: "I need no consolation. I have never forgotten that I was flogged by Prussians in 1870. I have urged my sons to avenge me and they will."
As one train of soldiers for the front moved out of a Paris railway station two girls who had bravely kissed farewell to a departing man turned away, and one began to cry, but the other said: "Keep up a little longer, he can still see us." Another carried a baby, and as her husband leaned out of the window and the train started she threw it into his arms, crying: "Leave it with, the station master at the next station, and I will fetch it; you must have it for another few minutes."
A Paris painter, called for military duty, was obliged to leave his wife and four children almost destitute. When he communicated with his wife on the subject she replied: "Do your duty without worrying about us. The city, state and our associations will look after us women and children." In her letter, the wife enclosed a money order for $1 out of $1.20, the total amount of money which she possessed.
KILLS MANY WITH ARMORED CAR
Lieutenant Henkart, attached to the general staff of the Belgian Army, perfected a monitor armored motor car which was successfully used by the Belgians.
During the war the officer engaged in reconnoitering in one of his armored cars. He had several encounters with Uhlans, of whom he killed a considerable number, virtually single-handed. His only assistants in his scouting trips were a chauffeur, an engineer and a sharpshooter.
On one occasion the party killed five Uhlans. Two days later it killed seven and on another occasion near Waterloo, the auto ran into a force of 500 Germans and escaped after killing twenty-five with a rapid-fire gun, which was mounted on the motor car.
A GERMAN RUSE THAT FAILED
A Belgian diplomat in Paris related an incident he observed at Charleroi. He said:
"Twenty Death's Head Hussars entered the town at 7 o'clock in the morning and rode quickly down the street, saluting and calling out 'Good-day' to those they met, saying, 'We are friends of the people.'
"Mistaking them for English cavalrymen, the people cried 'Long live England!' The Belgian soldiers themselves were deceived until an officer at a window, realizing their mistake, ran to the street and gave the alarm. The Belgian soldiers rushed quickly to arms and opened fire on the fleeing Germans, of whom several were killed." DIED WRITING TO HIS
WIFE
Here is a story of a heroic death on the battlefield, told simply in a letter found in the cold hands of a French soldier who had just finished writing it when the end came. "I am awaiting help which does not come," the letter ran. "I pray God to take me, for I suffer atrociously. Adieu, my wife and dear children. Adieu, all my family, whom I so loved. I request that whoever finds me will send this letter to Paris to my wife, with the pocketbook which is in my coat pocket. Gathering my last strength I write this, lying prostrate under the shell fire. Both my legs are broken. My last thoughts are for my children and for thee, my cherished wife and companion of my life, my beloved wife. Vive la France!"
IN THE PARIS MILITARY HOSPITAL
A visitor to the military hospital within the intrenched camp of Paris, just outside the city walls, said on September 18:
"Men of all ranks are there, from the simple private to a general of division. There is no sign of discouragement or sadness on the pale faces, which light up with the thought of returning to battle.
"I saw hundreds of men lying on the beds in the wards with varieties of wounds, no two being identical. This Turco—or African soldier—suffered from a torn tongue, cut by a bullet, which traversed his cheek. Another had lost three fingers of his left hand. A bullet entered the temple of this infantryman and fell into his mouth, where by some curious reaction he swallowed it.
"Many of the patients are suffering from mere flesh wounds. One poor fellow whose eye was put out by a bullet said: "That's nothing. It is only my left eye and I aim with my right. I need the lives of just three Germans to pay for it."
SMOKE AS WOUNDS ARE TREATED
"The Turcos, though terrible hand-to-hand fighters, are hard to care for. They have great fear of pain and it is difficult to bandage their wounds. The doctors give them cigarettes, which they smoke with dignity as if performing a ritual.
"All the African soldiers were wrathful at a German officer lying in a neighboring room. They muttered in a sinister fashion, 'To-morrow!' and put two hands to the neck. I understood this to mean that they would strangle him to-morrow. Much vigilance is required to keep the officer out of their reach.
"One Turco killed two Prussians with his bayonet and two with the stock of the gun in a single fight. His body is covered with the scars of years of fighting in the service of France. When asked if he liked France he replied: 'France good country, good leaders, good doctors.' He seemed to mind his wound less than the lack of cigarettes."
SPIRIT OF BELGIAN SOLDIERS
Writing from Antwerp on September 1, William G. Shepherd, United Press staff correspondent, illustrated the spirit of the soldiery of Belgium by the following story:
"The little Belgian soldier who climbed into the compartment with me was dead tired; he trailed his rifle behind him, threw himself into the seat and fell sound asleep. He was ready to talk when he awoke an hour later.
"'Yes, I was up all night with German prisoners,' he said. 'It was a bad job, there were only sixteen of us to handle 200 Germans. We had four box cars and we put twenty-five prisoners in one end of the car and twenty-five in the other, and the four of us with rifles sat guard by the car door.
"'We rode five hours that way and I expected every minute that the whole fifty Germans in the car would jump on us four and kill us. Four to fifty; that's heavy odds. But we had to do it. You see there aren't enough soldiers in Belgium to do all the work, so we have to make out the best we can.'
"That's the plucky little Belgian soldier, all over.
"In the first place, he's different from most soldiers, because he is willing to fight when he knows he's going to lose.
"'We have to make out the best we can,' is his motto.
"In the second place, he's a common-sense little fellow. Even while he's fighting, he's doing it coolly, and there is no blind hatred in his heart that causes him to waste any effort. He gets down to the why and wherefore of things.
"'I really felt sorry for those German prisoners,' said a comrade of the first soldier. 'They were all decent fellows. They told me their officers had fooled them. They said the officers gave them French money on the German frontier and then yelled to them, "On into France!" They went on three days and got to Liège before they knew they were in Belgium instead of France.
"'We didn't want to hurt Belgium,' they told us, because we're from Alsace-Lorraine ourselves.'
"'You see,' continued the logical little Belgian, 'it wasn't their fault, so we couldn't be mad at them.'
"That is the Belgian idea—cool logic.
"'Why did you fight the Germans?' I asked a high government official.
"'Because civilization can't exist without treaties, and it is the duty that a nation owes to civilization to fight to the death when written treaties are broken,' was the reply.
"'It must be a rule among nations that to break a treaty means to fight. The Germans broke the neutrality treaty with Belgium and we had to fight.'
"'But did you expect to whip the Germans?'
"'How could we? We knew that hordes of Germans would follow the first comers, but we had no right to worry about who would be whipped; all we had to do was to fight, and we've done it the best we could.'
"It has been a cool-headed logical matter with the Belgians from the start. Treaties are made with ink; they're broken with blood, and just as naturally and coolly as the Belgian diplomats used ink in signing the treaties with Germany so the Belgian soldiers have used their blood in trying to maintain the agreements."
RIFLES USED BY NATIONS OF WAR
In the present war Germany uses a Mauser rifle, with a bullet of millimeters caliber, steel and copper coated. Great Britain's missile is the Lee-Enfield, caliber 7.7 mm., the coating being cupro-nickel.
The French weapon is the Lebel rifle, of 8 mm. caliber, with bullets coated with nickel. Russia uses Mossin-Nagant rifles, 7.62 mm., with bullets cupro-nickel coated. Austria's chief small arm is the Mannlicher, caliber 8 mm., with a steel sheet over the tip.
Hitting a man beyond 350 yards, the wounds inflicted by all these bullets are clean cut. They frequently pass through bone tissue without splintering.
When meeting an artery the bullet seems to push it to one side and goes around without cutting the blood channel.
Amputations are very rare compared with wars of more than fifty years ago. A bullet wound through a joint, such as the knee or the elbow, then necessitated the amputation of the limb. Now such a wound is easily opened and dressed.
Even Russia, which made a sad sanitary showing in the war with Japan, now has learned her lesson and has efficient surgical arrangements.
All the nations use vaccine to combat typhoid, the scourge which once decimated camps, and killed 1,600 in the Spanish-American war.
GERMAN UHLANS AS SCOUTS
Concerning the German Uhlans, of whom so much has been heard in the European war, Luigi Barzini, a widely known Italian war correspondent, said:
"The swarms of cavalry which the Germans send out ahead of their advance are to be found everywhere—on any highway, on any path. It is their business to see as much as possible. They show themselves everywhere and they ride until they are fired upon, keeping this up until they have located the enemy.
"Theirs is the task of riding into death. The entire front of the enemy is established by them, and many of them are killed—that is a certainty they face. Now and then, however, one of them manages to escape to bring the information himself, which otherwise is obtained by officers in their rear making observation.
"At every bush, every heap of earth, the Uhlan must say to himself: 'Here I will meet an enemy in hiding.' He knows that he cannot defend himself against a fire that may open on him from all sides. Everywhere there is danger for the Uhlan—hidden danger. "Nevertheless he keeps on riding, calmly and undisturbed, in keeping with German discipline."
FOUGHT WITHOUT SHOES
The Paris Matin relates that on the arrival of a train bringing wounded Senegalese riflemen nearly all were found smoking furiously from long porcelain pipes taken from the enemy and seemingly indifferent to their wounds. One gayly told of the daring capture of a machine gun by eighteen of his comrades. The gun, he said, was brought up by a detachment of German dragoons and the Senegalese bravely charged and captured everything.
Though their arms and bodies were hacked by sabers, the Senegalese complained of nothing but the obligation to fight with shoes on. Before going into battle at Charleroi they slyly rid themselves of these impediments and came back shod in German footwear to avoid punishment for losing equipment.
KILLED A GENERAL
The shot which resulted in the death of Prince von Buelow, one of the German generals, was fired by a Belgian private named Rosseau, who was decorated by King Albert for his conduct in the battle of Haelen.
Rosseau was lying badly wounded among his dead comrades when he saw a German officer standing beside his horse and studying a map. Picking up a rifle beside a dead German, Rosseau fired at this officer and wounded him. The officer proved to be Prince von Buelow. Exchanging his hat for the German general's helmet and taking the general's horse, Rosseau made his way to the Belgian lines and was placed in a hospital at Ghent.
HOW A GERMAN PRINCE DIED
The Hanover Courier gave the following account by an eyewitness of the death of Prince Frederick William of Lippe at Liege:
"On all sides our detachment was surrounded by Belgian troops, who were gradually closing in for purposes of exterminating us. At the prince's command we formed a circle eight deep, maintaining a stubborn defense. At length a strong division arrived to support us. The prince raised himself from a kneeling position and turned to the standard bearer, who lay prone beside him, covering the standard with his body.
"'Raise the standard,' commanded the prince, 'so that we may be recognized by our friends.'
"The standard bearer raised the flag, waving it to and fro. This action immediately brought upon the standard bearer and the prince a violent fusillade. The standard was shot away and at the same moment the prince was struck in the chest and expired instantly."
RAILWAY STATION A SHAMBLES
Mrs. Herman H. Harjes, wife of the Paris banker, who, with other American women, was deeply interested in relief work, visited the North railroad station at Paris on September 1 and was shocked by the sights she saw among the Belgian refugees.
"The station," said Mrs. Harjes, "presented the aspect of a shambles. It was the saddest sight I ever saw. It is impossible to believe the tortures and cruelties the poor unfortunates had undergone.
"I saw many boys with both their hands cut off so that it was impossible for them to carry guns. Everywhere was filth and utter desolation. The helpless little babies, lying on the cold, wet cement floor and crying for proper nourishment, were enough to bring hot tears to any mother's eyes.
"Mothers were vainly besieging the authorities, begging for milk or soup. A mother with twelve children said:
"What is to become of us? It seems impossible to suffer more. I saw my husband bound to a lamppost. He was gagged and being tortured by bayonets. When I tried to intercede in his behalf, I was knocked senseless with a rifle. I never saw him again.'"
BURIED ON THE FIELD
The bodies of the dead in this war were not, with occasional exceptions, returned to their relatives, but were buried on the field and where numbers required it, in common graves. Valuables, papers and mementoes were taken from the bodies and made up in little packets to be sent to the relatives, and the dead soldiers, each wrapped in his canvas shelter tent, as shroud, were laid, friend and foe, side by side in long trenches in the ground for which they had contested.
GERMAN LISTS OF THE DEAD
In the German official Gazette daily lists of the dead, wounded and missing were published. The names marched by in long columns of the Gazette, arrayed with military precision by regiments and companies, batteries or squadrons—first the infantry and then cavalry, artillery and train.
The company lists were headed usually by the names of the officers, killed or wounded; then came the casualties from the enlisted strength—first the dead, then the wounded and the missing. A feature of the early lists was the large proportion of this last class, reports from some units running monotonously, name after name, "missing" or "wounded and missing"—in mute testimony of scouting patrols which did not return, or of regiments compelled to retire and leave behind them dead, wounded and prisoners, or sometimes of men wandering so far from their comrades in the confusion of battle that they could not find and rejoin their companies for days.
THE LANCE AS A WEAPON
An attempt was made in lists of the German wounded to give the nature and location of the wound. These were principally from rifle or shrapnel fire. A scanty few in the cavalry were labeled "lance thrust," indicating that the favorite weapon of the European cavalry has not done the damage expected of it, although the lance came more into play in the later engagements between the Russian and German cavalry divisions.
"FATHERLAND OR DEATH!"
Writing from Aix-la-Chapelle, Germany, on August 29th, Karl H. von Wiegand, who is considered by the Allies a German mouthpiece, said:
"America has not the faintest realization of the terrible carnage going on in Europe. She cannot realize the determination of Germany, all Germany—men, women and children—in this war. The German Empire is like one man. And that man's motto is 'Vaterland oder Tod!' (Fatherland or Death!)
"English news sources are reported here as telling of the masterly retreat of the allies. Here in the German field headquarters, where every move on the great chess-board of Belgium and France is analyzed, the war to date is referred to as the greatest offensive movement in the history of modern warfare."
GERMAN PLANS WELL LAID
The German offensive plans were well laid. No army that ever took the field was ever so mobile. Thousands of army autos have been in use. Each regiment had its supply. The highways were mapped in advance. There was not a crossroad that was not known. Even the trifling brooks had been located. Nothing had been left to chance and the advance guard was accompanied by enormous automobiles filled with corps of sappers who carried bridge and road building materials.
THE TERRIBLE KRUPP GUNS
How well the German plans worked was shown when Namur, which, it was boasted, would resist for months, fell in two days. The terrible work of the great Krupp weapons, whose existence had been kept secret, is hard to realize. One shot from one of these guns went through what was considered an impregnable wall of concrete and armored steel at Namur, exploded and killed 150 men.
And aside from the effectiveness of these terrible weapons, Belgian prisoners who were in the Namur forts declare their fire absolutely shattered the nerves of the defenders, whose guns had not sufficient range to reach them.
GERMANS DEFY DEATH
"It makes you sick to see the way that the Germans literally walk into the very mouth of the machine guns and cannon spouting short-fused shrapnel that mow down their lines and tear great gaps in them," said a Belgian major who was badly wounded. "Nothing seems to stop them. It is like an inhuman machine and it takes the very nerve out of you to watch it."
SPIRIT OF GERMAN WOMEN
"The women of Germany are facing the situation with heroic calmness," said Eleanor Painter, an American opera singer on landing in New York September 7th, direct from Berlin, where she had spent the last four years. "It is all for the Fatherland. The spirit of the people is wonderful. If the men are swept away in the maelstrom of war, the women will continue to fight. They are prepared now to do so.
"There are few tears in Berlin. Of course there is sorrow, deep sorrow. But the German women and the few men still left in the capital realize that the national life itself is at stake and accept the inevitable losses of a successful military occupation. There is a grim dignity everywhere. There are no false ideas as to the enormity of the struggle for existence. A great many Germans, in fact, realizing that it is nearly the whole world against Germany, do not believe that the Fatherland can survive. But they are determined that while there is a living German so long will Germany fight.
FATHER AND TEN SONS ENLIST
"A German father with his ten sons enlisted. General von Haessler, more than the allotted three-score years and ten, veteran of two wars, offered his sword. Boys who volunteered and who were not needed at the time wept when the recruiting officers sent them back home, telling them their time would come.
"The German women fight their own battles in keeping back tears and praying for the success of the German arms. Hundreds of titled women are at the front with the Red Cross, sacrificing everything to aid their country. Baroness von Ziegler and her daughter wrote from Wiesbaden that they were en route to the front and were ready to fight if need be.
"Even the stupendous losses which the army is incurring cannot dim the love of the Fatherland nor the desire of the Germans, as a whole nation, to fight on. I speak of vast losses. An officer with whom I talked while en route from Berlin to Rotterdam, told me of his own experience. He was one of 2,000 men on the eastern frontier. They saw a detachment of Russians ahead. The German forces went into battle singing and confident, although the Russian columns numbered 12,000. Of that German force of 2,000 just fifty survived. None surrendered."
FEARFUL STATE OF BATTLEFIELDS
Dead men and horses, heaped up by thousands, lay putrefying on the battlefields of the Aisne, Colonel Webb C. Hayes, U.S.A., son of former President Hayes, declared in Washington on Oct. 7, on his return from observing the war and its battlefields. He was the bearer of a personal message to President Wilson from the acting burgomaster of Louvain.
"When I left Havre on Sept. 27," he said, "the Allies were fearful that they would not be able to penetrate to the German line through the mass of putrefying men and horses on the battlefields, which unfortunately the combatants seem not to heed about burying. I don't see how they could pass through these fields. The stench was horrible, and the idea of climbing over the bodies must be revolting even to brave soldiers."
Col. Hayes had been on the firing line; he had visited the sacked city of Louvain as the guest of Germans in an armored car; he had been in Aix-la-Chapelle, at the German base, and had seen some of the fighting in the historic Aisne struggle.
"It is a sausage grinder," he declared.
"On one side are the Allies, apparently willing to sacrifice their last man in defense of France; on the other are the Germans, seemingly prodigal of their millions of men and money and throwing man after man into the war."
"What about the alleged atrocities in Belgium?" he was asked.
"Well, war is hell; that's about the only answer I can give you. The real tragic feature of the whole war is Belgium. Its people are wonderful folk—clean, decent, respectable. What this nation should do is to concentrate its efforts to aid the women and children of Belgium. Help for hospitals is not so much needed, but the fate of these people is really pathetic." Asked for a brief description of what he saw along the battle line, Col. Hayes declared:
"The battle front these days is far different from what it used to be. There are few men to be seen, and practically no guns. All are concealed. Shrapnel flies through the air and bursts. That is the scene most of the time. In the hand-to-hand fighting bayonets are used much by the French, while the Turcos use knives."
"Shall you go back?" Col. Hayes was asked.
"Does anyone wish to visit a slaughterhouse a second time?" he replied.
PRINCES WOUNDED BY THE FOE
Prince August William, the fourth son of Emperor William, was shot in the left arm during the battle of the Marne and Emperor William bestowed the Iron Cross of the first class on him.
Prince Eitel, the Kaiser's second son, was wounded during the battle of the Aisne. Up to October 7 four of Emperor William's sons had been placed temporarilyhors de combat.
Prince George of Servia, while leading his battalion against the Austrians September 18, was hit by a ball which entered near the spinal column and came out at the right shoulder. The wound was said not to be dangerous.
HOW THE SCOTSMEN FOUGHT
At St. Quentin, France, the Highland infantrymen burst into the thick of the Germans, holding on to the stirrups of the Scots Greys as the horsemen galloped, and attacked hand to hand. The Germans were taken aback at the sudden and totally unexpected double irruption, and broke up before the Scottish onslaught, suffering severe losses alike from the swords of the cavalry and from the Highlanders' bayonets. The scene of this charge is depicted in one of our illustrations.
TWO TRAGIC INCIDENTS
During the Russian retreat through the Mazur lake district, in East Prussia, a Russian battery was surrounded on three sides by the enemy's quick firers. The infantry was on the other side of the lake, and the Russian ammunition was exhausted. In order to avoid capture, the commander ordered the battery to gallop over the declivity into the lake. His order was obeyed and he himself was among the drowned.
During an assault on the fortress of Ossowetz, a German column got into a bog. The Russians shelled the bog and the single road crossing it. The Germans, in trying to extricate themselves, sank deeper into the mire, and hundreds were killed or wounded. Of the whole column, about forty survived.
IN THE BRUSSELS HOSPITALS
A peculiar incident of the war is noted by a doctor writing in the New York American, who went through several of the great Brussels hospitals and noted the condition of the wounded Belgian soldiers. These soldiers carried on the defense of their country with a valor which the fighting men of any nation might admire and envy. The writer remarks:
"Two facts struck me very forcibly. The first was the very large number of Belgian soldiers wounded only in the legs, and, secondly, many of the soldiers seem to have collapsed through sheer exhaustion.
"In peace times one sees and hears little or nothing of extreme exhaustion, because in times of peace the almost superphysical is not demanded. War brings new conditions.
"These Belgian soldiers were at work and on the march during stupendous days, practically without a moment's respite. They went, literally, until they dropped. As a medical man, their condition interested me enormously.
"What force of will to fight and struggle until the last gasp! The exhaustion one sees often in heat strokes and in hot climates is commonplace, but this type of exhaustion is, by itself, the final triumph of brave spirits.
"The victims presented a very alarming appearance when first I met them. They seemed almost dead; limp, pale, and cold. Recovery usually is not protracted; in every case the men knocked out in this manner expressed a fervent desire to return at once to the ranks.
GERMAN WARNING TO FRENCH TOWNS
Following is the text of a proclamation published in French and posted in all towns occupied by the Germans:
"All the authorities and the municipality are informed that every peaceful inhabitant can follow his regular occupation in full security. Private property will be absolutely respected and provisions paid for.
"If the population dare under any form whatever to take part in hostilities the severest punishment will be inflicted on the refractory.
"The people must give up their arms. Every armed individual will be put to death. Whoever cuts telegraph wires, destroys railway bridges or roads or commits any act in detriment to the Germans will be shot.
"Towns and villages whose inhabitants take part in the combat or who fire upon us from ambush will be burned down and the guilty shot at once. The civil authorities will be held responsible.(Signed) VON MOLTKE."
MOTORS IN THE RUSSIAN ARMY
The Russian army has always placed much dependence on its horses, having a vast number, but it has realized the importance of the motor vehicle in warfare and already it is much better equipped than other nations suppose. An illustration of the fact is the following, related by a Bed Cross man who accompanied the Russian forces into eastern Germany:
"I was walking beside one of our carts. We could hear heavy artillery fire as we went, when shouts from our people behind warned us to get off the road. We pulled onto the grass as there came thundering past, bumping from one rough place to another on the poor road and going at a sickening pace, a string of huge motor cars crowded with infantrymen. They looked like vehicles of the army establishment, all apparently alike in size and pattern and each carrying about thirty men.
"They were traveling like no motor wagon that I ever saw—certainly at not less than forty miles an hour. The procession seemed endless. I didn't count them, but there were not less than a hundred, and perhaps a good many more. That was General Rennenkampf reinforcing his threatened flank."
JENNIE DUFAU'S NARROW ESCAPE
Jennie Dufau, the American opera singer, had one of the most thrilling experiences told by a refugee from the war zone.
Miss Dufau was visiting in Saulxures, Province of Alsace, when the war started, and was in the hitherto peaceful valley of that region until August 24. She was with her sister, Elizabeth, and her two brothers, Paul and Daniel.
On August 6 the German artillery occupied the heights on one side of the valley, overlooking the town. On the 12th the Germans occupied the town itself. At that time there were but two French regiments near Saulxures.
The French, however, opened fire on the Germans, and Miss Dufau with her father and sister at once retreated to the cellar in an effort to escape the flying shells.
"Then began a tremendous artillery duel that lasted for days," she said. "All this time we were living in the cellar, where we were caring for ten wounded French officers. I often went out over the battlefield when the fire slackened and did what I could for the wounded and dying.
"My brothers Paul and Daniel were drafted into the German army. They had sworn an oath not to fire a shot at a Frenchman, and their greatest hope was that they would be captured and permitted to put on the French uniform.
"Between August 12 and 24 the artillery duel raged, and finally the opposing armies came to a hand-to-hand fight with the bayonet. First it was the Germans who occupied the town, then the French. The Germans finally came to our house and accused my sister, my father, and myself of being spies because they found a telephone there. The soldiers lined us up against the wall to shoot us, but we fell on our knees and begged them to spare the life of our father. They gave no heed till a German colonel came along and, after questioning us, ordered that we be set free."
VALLEY OF DEATH ON THE AISNE
A non-combatant who succeeded in getting close to the firing lines on the Aisne when the great battle had raged continuously for five weeks, wrote as follows on October 21st of the horrors he had witnessed:
"Between the lines of battle there is a narrow strip, varying from seventy yards to a quarter of a mile, which is a neutral valley of death. Neither side is able to cross that strip without being crumpled by fire against which no body of men can stand. The Germans have attempted to break through the British and French forces hundreds of times but have been compelled to withdraw, and always with severe losses.
"A number of small towns are distributed in this narrow strip, the most important being Craonne. The Germans and French have reoccupied it six times and each in turn has been driven out. The streets of Craonne are littered with the dead of both armies. The houses, nearly all of which have been demolished by exploding shells, are also full of bodies of men who crawled into them to get out of the withering fire and have there died. Many of these men died of sheer exhaustion and starvation while the battle raged day after day.
"Both armies have apparently abandoned the struggle to hold Craonne permanently, and it is now literally a city of the dead.
"It is a typical French village of ancient stone structures; the tiny houses all have, or had, gables and tiled roofs. These have mostly been broken by shell fire. Under the shelter of its buildings both the Germans and French have been able at times to rescue their wounded.
"This is more than can be said of the strip of death between the battle lines. There the wounded lie and the dead go unburied, while the opposing forces direct their merciless fire a few feet above the field of suffering and carnage. I did not know until I looked upon the horrors of Craonne that such conditions could exist in modern warfare.
"I thought that frequent truces would be negotiated to give the opposing armies an opportunity to collect their wounded and bury their dead. I had an idea that the Red Cross had made war less terrible. The world thinks so yet, perhaps, but the conditions along the Aisne do not justify that belief. If a man is wounded in that strip between the lines he never gets back alive unless he is within a short distance of his own lines or is protected from the enemy's fire by the lay of the land.
"This protracted and momentous battle, which raged day and night for so many weeks, became a continuous nightmare to the men engaged in it, every one of whom knew that upon its issue rested one of the great deciding factors of the war."
BRITISH AID FOR FRENCH WOUNDED
The following paragraphs from a letter received October 15th by the author from an English lady interested in the suffrage movement, give some idea of the spirit in which the people of England met the emergency; and also indicate the frightful conditions attending the care of the wounded in France:
"London, October 7, 1914.—The world is a quite different place from what it was in July—dear, peaceful July! It seems years ago that we lived in a time of peace. It all still seems a nightmare over England and one feels that the morning must come when one will wake up and find it has all been a hideous dream, and that peace is the reality. But the facts grow sadder every day, as one realizes the frightful slaughter and waste of young lives. * * *
"But now that we are in the midst of this horrible time, we can only stop all criticism of our Government, set our teeth, and try to help in every possible way. All suffrage work has stopped and all the hundred-and-one interests in societies of every kind are in abeyance as well. The offices of every kind of society are being used for refugees, Bed Cross work, unemployment work, and to meet other needs of the moment.
"Every day of our time is taken up with helping to equip 'hospital units,' private bodies of doctors and nurses with equipment, to go to France and help the French Red Cross work among the French wounded. The situation in France at present is more horrible than one can imagine. Our English soldiers have medical and surgical help enough with them for first aid. Then they are sent back to England, and here all our hospitals are ready and private houses everywhere have been given to the War Office for the wounded. But the battlefield is in France; many of the French doctors have been shot; the battle-line is 200 miles long, and the carnage is frightful.
"Last week we sent off one hospital unit, and a messenger came back from it yesterday to tell us awful facts—16,000 wounded in Limoges for one place, and equal numbers in several other little places south of Paris—just trains full of them—with so little ready for them in the way of doctors or nurses. One hears of doctors performing operations without chloroform, and the suffering of the poor fellows is awful."
COMPARATIVE WEALTH OF NATIONS AT WAR
The wealth of the principal belligerent nations, in terms of property, goods and appraisable resources of all kinds, is estimated as follows:
National National PercentWealth DebtUnited States.............$260,000,000,000 $18,000,000,000 6.Great Britain.............. 90,000,000,000 36,675,000,000 40.France..................... 65,000,000,000 23,000,000,000 35.Russia..................... 40,000,000,000 25,400,000,000 63.Italy...................... 25,000,000,000 7,000,000,000 28.Japan...................... 28,000,000,000 1,300,000,000 4.Germany.................... 80,000,000,000 33,000,000,000 38.Austria-Hungary............ 25,000,000,000 20,000,000,000 80.
It is worth noting in this connection that the fourth liberty bond issue of six billions was oversubscribed to extent $866,416,300—almost an extra billion. There were over 21,000,000 individual subscribers.
The war bills of the United States between April 6, 1917, and October 31st, 1918, as officially reported at Washington November 2, 1918, amounted to twenty billions, five hundred and sixty-one million dollars ($20,561,000,000). Of this sum, seven billions and seventeen millions ($7,017,000,000) have been loaned to the allies and will be repaid.
Only a little more than one-fourth of the expense had up to the date of the report been raised by taxation. Most of the remainder had been raised by bond issues practically all of which were subscribed by our own people, so that the debt is owing not to foreign creditors, but to ourselves.
The same report shows that on November 1st, 1918, the treasury's working balance stood at one billion, eight hundred and forty-five millions, seven hundred and thirty-nine thousand dollars ($1,845,739,000) the largest sum ever available at any one time in the history of the nation—with continuing receipts of instalment payments on the fourth liberty loan coming in at the rate of two billions per month, and preparations for the fifth loan well under way.
FIGURES THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO COMPREHEND.
The direct cost of the war for all belligerent nations to May 1, 1918, was reported at about $175,000,000,000 by the Federal Reserve board bulletin, issued November 18. It was estimated that the cost would amount to nearly $200,000,000,000 before the end of the year.
For purely military and naval purposes, it appears that all belligerents had spent about $132,000,000,000 to May 1. The remainder represented interest on debt, and other indirect war expenses.
The mobilization and the first five months of the war in 1914 cost all belligerents about $10,000,000,000. In 1915 the expenses jumped to $26,000,000,000, in 1916 they increased to $38,000,000,000; and in they were estimated at $60,000,000,000. In 1918 expenses ran only a little above the rate of 1917.
The public debt of the principal entente allies is calculated at approximately $105,000,000,000, not counting the debt incurred since May 1918. The annual burden to all belligerents to pay interest and sinking fund allowances will be not less than $10,000,000,000, and probably much more.
Unofficial reports indicate that Germany's national debt, represented mainly by war bonds held within the empire, is now nearly $35,000,000,000 (almost two-fifths of the estimate national wealth of $80,000,000,000). Besides this, France claims a return of the indemnity, $20,000,000,000; $28,000,000,000 for pensions; and reparation of damages, $20,000,000,000; being $68,000,000,000 in all.
Whatever may be the weight of the final burden of reparation and restitution to be placed on Germany, the size of the task ahead of her may be illustrated by comparison of her national debt with that of the United States, Germany has 66,000,000 population and $80,000,000,000 of estimated wealth, to pay $35,000,000,000 of war debt already created.
The United States has 110,000,000 population and an estimated national wealth of $250,000,000,000, to pay nearly $18,000,000,000 war debt already created, or approximately $23,000,000,000 up to the end of May, 1919. This means that the per capita burden will be at least three times greater in Germany than in the United States.
THE MYSTERY OF THE FLEETS
Movements of British Battleships Veiled in Secrecy—German Dreadnoughts in North Sea and Baltic Ports—Activity of Smaller Craft—English Keep Trade Routes Open— Several Minor Battles at Sea.
Shortly before war was declared a great review of the British navy was held at Spithead, on the English Channel, when several hundred vessels were gathered in mighty array for inspection by King George and the lords of the Admiralty. The salutes they fired had hardly ceased to reverberate along the shores of the Channel when the momentous struggle was on. It found the British fleet fully mobilized and ready for action. The ships had their magazines filled, their bunkers and oil tanks charged, their victualing completed, and last, but not least, their full crews aboard.
Then, without a moment's delay, they disappeared, under orders to proceed to stations in the North Sea, to cruise in the Channel, the Atlantic or the Mediterranean; to keep trade routes open for British and neutral ships and capture or destroy the ships of the enemy. Silently and swiftly they sailed, and for weeks the world knew little or nothing of their movements or whereabouts.
Mystery equally deep shrouded the German fleet. In all probability it lay under the guns of the coast cities and forts of Germany, but nothing definite was permitted to leak out. The test of the two great navies, the supreme test of dreadnoughts and superdreadnoughts, failed to materialize, and for weeks the people of Great Britain and Germany could only wonder what had become of their naval forces and why they did not come into contact with each other. A few minor engagements in the North Sea, in which light cruisers and torpedo-boat destroyers were concerned, served only to deepen the mystery.
Only naval men and well-informed civilians realized that Germany was biding her time, waiting to choose her own hour for action, realizing the strength of the opposing force and determined not to risk her own ships until the opportune moment should arrive which would offer the best possible chances for success. And meanwhile the main British fleet lay in the North Sea, waiting for the enemy to appear.
After a while letters began to come from the North Sea, telling of the life aboard the vessels lying in wait, scouting or patrolling the coasts. The ships were all stripped for action; all inflammable ornaments and fittings had been left behind or cast overboard; stripped and naked the fighting machines went to their task. All day long the men were ready at their guns, and during the night each gun crew slept around the weapon that it was their duty to serve, ready to repel any destroyers or submarines coming out of the surrounding darkness to attack them.
Vice-Admiral Sir John Jellicoe had assumed supreme command of the British home fleet on August 4, with the rank of admiral. His chief of staff was Rear Admiral Charles E. Madden. Rear Admiral Sir George Callaghan was in command of the North Sea fleet.
AN ADMIRALTY ANNOUNCEMENT
On Thursday, September 10, the secretary of the British Admiralty made the following announcement: "Yesterday and today strong and numerous squadrons and flotillas have made a complete sweep of the North Sea up to and into the Heligoland Bight. The German fleet made no attempt to interfere with our movements and no German ship of any kind was seen at sea."
That much patience had to be exercised by the seamen of the North Sea fleet is evidenced by a letter in which the writer said to his family, "If you want to get away from the excitement of war, you should be here with me." This situation, of course, might be changed at a moment's notice. The London Times said in September: "It is not to be wondered at if our seamen today envy a little the old-time sailors who did not have to compete with such things as mines, destroyers and submarines. In the accounts of the old blockades we read how by means of music and dancing, and even theatrical entertainments, the monotonous nature of the work was counteracted, and the officers of the ships, including Nelson and other great commanders, welcomed these diversions for the prevention of the evils which might be bred by enforced idleness. It is a true saying that everything that stagnates corrupts. There is no possible chance of the crews of our modern vessels stagnating under the new conditions of war. Whether engaged in blockading in the big ships, scouting in the cruisers, or patrolling the coasts in the destroyers, the life is described as tremendously interesting and exciting. There has been no sense of monotony whatever. Indeed, the conditions are such that, were it not obligatory for portions of every crew to take rest, all of them would be continually on the alert. We may be certain that arrangements have been made for ensuring that the crews obtain periods of relaxation from the constant strain; but the only real change comes in the big ships when they have of necessity to refill their bunkers."
LOSS OF THE CRUISER AMPHION
The cruiser Amphion was the first British war vessel lost in the war. The survivors on landing at the North Sea port of Harwich, England, on August 10, stated that hardly had they left Harwich than they were ordered to clear the decks for action. They sighted the German mine-laying vessel Koenigin Luise, and, as it refused to stop even when a shot was fired across its bows, they gave chase.
The German ship fired and then the destroyers, accompanying the Amphion, surrounded and sank it after a brief combined bombardment.
The captain, it is said, was beside himself with fury. He had a revolver in his hand and threatened his men as they prepared to surrender to the rescuing ships. He flatly refused to give himself up and was taken by force.
When the smoke of a big ship was seen on the horizon the Amphion gave chase, firing a warning shot as it drew near the vessel, which at once made known its identity as the Harwich boat St. Petersburg, carrying Prince Lichnowsky, the German ambassador, to the Hook of Holland. While returning to port came the tragedy of the Amphion. As it struck a sunken mine it gave two plunging jerks. Then came an explosion which ripped up its forepart, shot up its funnels like arrows from a bow, and lifted its heavy guns into the air. The falling material struck several of the boats of the flotilla and injured some of the men on board them.
The Amphion's men were dreadfully burned and scalded and had marks on their faces and bodies which resembled splashes of acid.
The scene at Harwich was like that which follows a colliery explosion. Of the British seamen in the hospital thirteen were suffering from severe burns, five from less serious burns, two from the effects of lyddite fumes, and one each from concussion, severe injury, slight wounds, shock, and slight burns. A few wounded German sailors also lay in the hospital.
SINKING A GERMAN SUBMARINE
On August 12 there came from Edinburgh the story of an eyewitness of a naval battle in the North Sea on the previous Sunday between British cruisers and German submarines, in which the German submarine U-15 was sunk.
"The cruiser squadron on Sunday," the story ran, "suddenly became aware of the approach of the submarine flotilla. The enemy was submerged, only the periscopes showing above the surface of the water.
"The attitude of the British in the face of this attack was cool and the enemy was utterly misled when suddenly the cruiser Birmingham, steaming at full speed, fired the first shot. This shot was carefully aimed, not at the submerged body of a submarine, but at the thin line of the periscope.
"The gunnery was superbly accurate and shattered the periscope. Thereupon the submarine, now a blinded thing, rushed along under water in imminent danger of self-destruction from collision with the cruisers above.
"The sightless submarine was then forced to come to the surface, whereupon the Birmingham's gunner fired the second shot of the fight. This shot struck at the base of the conning tower, ripping the whole of the upper structure clean and the U-15 sank like a stone.
"The remainder of the submarine flotilla fled."
NAVAL BATTLE OFF HELIGOLAND
In the last week of August a naval engagement occurred off the island of Heligoland, in the North Sea. British war vessels sank five German ships, killing 900 men. A graphic description of the engagement was given by a young lieutenant who was on one of the British torpedo boat destroyers:
"I think the home papers are magnifying what really was but an affair of outposts. We destroyers went in and lured the enemy out and had lots of excitement. The big fellows then came up and afforded some excellent target practice, and we were very glad to see them come; but it was a massacre, not a fight.
"There was superb generalship and overwhelming forces on the spot, but there was really nothing for them to do except to shoot the enemy, even as father shoots pheasants.
"Have you ever noticed a dog rush in on a flock of sheep and scatter them? He goes for the nearest and barks and goes so much faster than the flock that it bunches up with its companions. The dog then barks at another and the sheep spread out fanwise, so in front of the dog there is a semicircle of sheep and behind him none.
"That was much what we did at 7 a. m. on August 28. The sheep were the German torpedo craft, which fell back on the limits of our range and tried to lure us within the fire of the Heligoland forts. But a cruiser then came out and engaged our Arethusa and they had a real heart-to-heart talk, while we looked on, and a few of us tried to shoot at the enemy, too, though it was beyond our distance.
"We were getting nearer Heligoland all the time. There was a thick mist and I expected every minute to find the forts on the island bombarding us, so the Arethusa presently drew off after landing at least one good shell on the enemy. The enemy gave every hit as good as he got there.
"We then reformed, but a strong destroyer belonging to the submarines got chased, and the Arethusa and Fearless went back to look after it. We presently heard a hot action astern, so the captain in command of the flotilla turned us around and we went back to help. But they had driven the enemy off and on our arrival told us to 'form up' on the Arethusa.
CRUISER FIRES ON SHIPS
"When we had partly formed and were very much bunched together, making a fine target, suddenly out of the mist arrived five or six shells from a point not 150 yards away. We gazed at whence they came and again five or six stabs of fire pierced the fog, and we made out a four-funneled German cruiser of the Breslau class.
"Those stabs were its guns going off. We waited fifteen seconds and the shots and noise of its guns arrived pretty well from fifty yards away. Its next salvo of shots went above us, and I ducked as they whirred overhead like a covey of fast partridges.
"You would suppose our captain had done this sort of thing all his life. He went full speed ahead at once, upon the first salvo, to string the bunch out and thus offer less target. The commodore from the Arethusa made a signal to us to attack with torpedoes. So we swung round at right angles and charged full speed at the enemy like a hussar attack.
"Our boat got away at the start magnificently and led the field, so all the enemy's firing was aimed at us for the next ten minutes, when we got so close that debris from their shells fell on board. Then we altered our course and so threw them out in their reckoning of our speed, and they had all their work to do over again.
"Humanly speaking, our captain by twisting and turning at psychological moments saved us. Actually, I feel that we were in God's keeping that day. After ten minutes we got near enough to fire our torpedo. Then we turned back to the Arethusa. Next our follower arrived just where we had been and fired its torpedo, and of course the enemy fired at it instead of at us. What a blessed relief!
"After the destroyers came the Fearless, and it stayed on the scene. Soon we found it was engaging a three-funneler, the Mainz, so off we started again, now for the Mainz, the situation being that the crippled Arethusa was too tubby to do anything but be defended by us, its children.
"Scarcely, however, had we started when, from out of the mist and across our front, in furious pursuit came the first cruiser squadron of the town class, the Birmingham, and each unit a match for three like the Mainz, which was soon sunk. As we looked and reduced speed they opened fire, and the clear bang-bang of their guns was just like a cooling drink.
"To see a real big four-funneler spouting flame, which flame denoted shells starting, and those shells not at us but for us, was the most cheerful thing possible. Once we were in safety, I hated it. We had just been having our own imaginations stimulated on the subject of shells striking.
"Now, a few minutes later, to see another ship not three miles away, reduced to a piteous mass of unrecognizability, wreathed in black fumes from which flared out angry gusts of fire like Vesuvius in eruption, as an unending stream of hundred-pound shells burst on board it, just pointed the moral and showed us what might have been.
"The Mainz was immensely gallant. The last I saw of it it was absolutely wrecked. It was a fuming inferno. But it had one gun forward and one aft still spitting forth fury and defiance like a wild cat.
"Then we went west, while they went east. Just a bit later we heard the thunder of the enemy's guns for a space. Then fell silence, and we knew that was all.
A MARVELOUS RESCUE
"The most romantic, dramatic, and piquant episode that modern war can ever show came next. The Defender, having sunk an enemy, lowered a whaler to pick up its swimming survivors. Before the whaler got back, an enemy's cruiser came up and chased the Defender, which thus had to abandon its small boat.
"Imagine their feelings, alone in an open boat without food, twenty-five miles from the nearest land, and that land an enemy's fortress, with nothing but fog and foes around them, and then suddenly a swirl alongside, and up, if you please, hops His Britannic Majesty's submarine E-4, opens its conning tower, takes them all on board, shuts up again, dives and brings them home, 250 miles."
THREE BRITISH CRUISERS SUNK
On Tuesday morning, September 22, the British cruisers Aboukir, Cressy and Hogue were torpedoed and sunk by a German submarine in the North Sea. Each of the vessels carried a crew of about 650 men, and the total of the death roll was about 1,400.
The three cruisers had for some time been patrolling the North Sea. Soon after 6 o'clock in the morning the Aboukir suddenly felt a shock on the port side. A dull explosion was heard and a column of water was thrown up mast high. The explosion wrecked the stokehold just forward of amidships: and tore the bottom open.
Almost immediately the doomed cruiser began to settle. Except for the watch on deck, most of the crew were asleep, wearied by the constant vigil in bad weather, but in perfect order the officers and men rushed to quarters. The quick-firers were manned in the hope of a dying shot at the submarine, but there was not a glimpse of one.
Meanwhile the Aboukir's sister cruisers, more than a mile away, saw and heard the explosion and thought the Aboukir had struck a mine. They closed in and lowered boats. This sealed their own fate, for, while they were standing by to rescue survivors, first the Hogue and then the Cressy was torpedoed.
Only the Cressy appears to have seen the submarine in time to attempt to retaliate, and she fired a few shots before she keeled over, broken in two, and sank.
British naval officers by this time were beginning to wonder how long the German high seas fleet intended to remain under cover in the Kiel canal.
"Our only grievance," one said, "is that we have not had a shot at the Germans. Our only share of the war has been a few uncomfortable weeks of bad weather, mines and submarines."
A number of the survivors were taken to the Dutch port of Ymuiden, where they were interned as technical prisoners of war.
THE GERMAN COMMANDER'S STORY
The German submarine which accomplished the hitherto unparalleled feat was the U-9, in command of Capt.-Lieut. Otto Weddigen, whose interesting story was given to the public through the German Admiralty on October 6, as follows:
"I set out from a North Sea port on one of the arms of the Kiel canal and set my course in a southwesterly direction. The name of the port I cannot state officially, but it was not many days before the morning of September 22 when I fell in with my quarry.
"British torpedo-boats came within my reach, but I felt there was bigger game further on, so on I went. It was ten minutes after six in the morning of the 22nd when I caught sight of one of the big cruisers of the enemy.
"I was then eighteen sea miles northwesterly of the Hook of Holland. I had traveled considerably more than 200 miles from my base. I had been going ahead partially submerged, with about five feet of my periscope showing.
"Almost immediately I caught sight of the first cruiser and two others. I submerged completely and laid my course in order to bring up in center of the trio, which held a sort of triangular formation. I could see their gray-black sides riding high over the water.
"When I first sighted them they were near enough for torpedo work, but I wanted to make my aim sure, so I went down and in on them. I had taken the position of the three ships before submerging, and I succeeded in getting another flash through my periscope before I began action. I soon reached what I regarded as a good shooting point.
"Then I loosed one of my torpedoes at the middle ship. I was then about twelve feet under water and got the shot off in good shape, my men handling the boat as if it had been a skiff. I climbed to the surface to get a sight through my tube of the effect and discovered that the shot had gone straight and true, striking the ship, which I later learned was the Aboukir, under one of its magazines, which in exploding helped the torpedo's work of destruction.
"There was a fountain of water, a burst of smoke, a flash of fire, and part of the cruiser rose in the air.
STRIKES THE SECOND CRUISER
"Its crew were brave and, even with death staring them in the face, kept to their posts. I submerged at once. But I had stayed on top long enough to see the other cruisers, which I learned were the Cressy and the Hogue, turn and steam full speed to their dying sister.
"As I reached my torpedo depth I sent a second charge at the nearest of the oncoming vessels, which was the Hogue. The English were playing my game, for I had scarcely to move out of my position, which was a great aid, since it helped to keep me from detection.
"The attack on the Hogue went true. But this time I did not have the advantageous aid of having the torpedo detonate under the magazine, so for twenty minutes the Hogue lay wounded and helpless on the surface before it heaved, half turned over, and sank.
"By this time the third cruiser knew, of course, that the enemy was upon it, and it sought as best it could to defend itself. It loosed its torpedo defense batteries on bows, star-board, and port, and stood its ground as if more anxious to help the many sailors in the water than to save itself.
"In the common method of defending itself against a submarine attack, it steamed in a zigzag course, and this made it necessary for me to hold my torpedoes until I could lay a true course for them, which also made it necessary for me to get nearer to the Cressy.
"I had to come to the surface for a view, and saw how wildly the fire was being sent from the ship. Small wonder that was when they did not know where to shoot, although one shot went unpleasantly near us.
"When I got within suitable range I sent away my third attack. This time I sent a second torpedo after the first to make the strike doubly certain. My crew were aiming like sharpshooters and both torpedoes went to their bull's-eye. My luck was with me again, for the enemy was made useless and at once began sinking by the head. Then it careened far over, but all the while its men stayed at the guns looking for their invisible foe.
"They were brave and true to their country's sea traditions. Then it eventually suffered a boiler explosion and completely turned turtle. With its keel uppermost it floated until the air got out from under it and then it sank with a loud sound, as if from a creature in pain.