Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 2, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 January 1915 — FRENCH DIG WAY INTO TRENCHES OF THEIR FOES [ARTICLE]

FRENCH DIG WAY INTO TRENCHES OF THEIR FOES

Wounded Officers Tell of Fierce Hand to Hand Fight With Bombs. WIVES RISK THEIR LIVES Meet at Front Just for a Kiss or a Word as They Pass Through a Town — Pathos In Many Reunions. By RENE ARCOS. (Correspondent of Chicago Dally News.) Ne«fr the French Front. —Two wounded French officers have given me an account of the recent fighting near Berry-au-Bac. They came and poundpd on the door of this wayside Inn 12 kilometers (7.2 miles) behind the firing line late at night. The proprietress, fearing that gendarmes had come to arrest her for selling drinks after eight o’clock, did not answer at first, but new pounding, kicking and shouting caused her to change her mind. There entered a second lieutenant and an. adjutant, both wounded, one supporting the other. One was wounded in. the arm and one in the leg. * The second lieutenant was gay and looked well, but now shall I describe the poor adjutant? A rough beard filled the hollows of his cheeks and his pale blue eyes shone with fever. . He fell moaning Into a chair and seemed to lose consciousness until a plate of steaming soup was placed under his nose. Wounded Soldiers Tell Stories. Wine and the warmth of the room gradually reanimated him and he began to relate his exploits. Both officers belonged to the same regiment of infantry and both were wounded the day before. The lieutenant’s first words were:

“You cannot imagine how strange it seems to see a civilian again. For three .months I have seen nothing but French and German soldiers and I had begun to believe that there was not a civilian left in the world.” These men had been fighting virtually every day and night In the last two months. Their trenches had been advancing steadily at the 'rate of about fifty yards a week. They had attacked the Gepnan trenches hundreds of times and been attacked an equal number of times. Projectiles had torn their uniforms. Their regiment, digging underground, had here and there buyst into the midst of the German trenches. The other evening a section of their comrades composed of 50 men had been surprised and captnred. The adjutant could not get over this. “Those lazy rascals tell* asleep despite the music of the shrapnel,” he said. “It is true they had not slept for several days and nights before.” Attack the German Trenches. The lieutenant-then related how he and his companion were wounded. Toward ( ten o’clock on the preceding evening it was decided to attack the German trenches. The French silently left their underground coverts and crept forward. They were discovered when a few yards from their goal, but it was too late and the Germans were overwhelmed. “We saw them running like rats into their hole,” said the lieutenant “Having advanced 50 yards at one stroke, It was necessary for us to bold this precious gala. Naturally, tbo German Mfiobßs were Err&n^cKi

for defense toward the French trenches. Now the French set to work to make the trenches defensible from the other side. Sacks of cement were hastily brought, dipped 'into water and laid end to end along the trenches and packed with dirt. The French then desired to rest a little, but the Germans, wishing to win hack the lost position before the French completed the defenses, poured out of their earthworks and advanced. Hurl Grenades as Foes Advance. “ ‘Don’t speak a word,’ ordered our captain. ‘Keep still, bring up some boxes of preserves quietly and wait.’ The Germans came forward at a dog trot in compact masses. ‘Wait,’ repeated the captain. ‘Don’t fire a single Bhot. We are going to play a little game of massacre. Let each man take two grenades and keep well hidden behind the sacks.’ “When the Germans were only a stew yards away the gaptain shouted at the top of his lungs: ‘Use all the grenades you wish, my children.’ The terrible bombs bursting In the ranks caused unbelievable chrnage.” “They yelled like pigs flayed alive,” said the lieutenant placidly. “It did not take long to clean them up, but several of them fired back at us while retreating. This is how we, two were caught.” Gives Autoist Password. These little hotels close behind the lines present an ever changing variety of war pictures. Besides wounds ed soldiers there are others who come on errands and who want a solid meal before returning to the trenches. Here, also, are refugees 'from villages under fire and women come to try and see their husbands who are wounded or stationed in the neighborhood. Transport automobiles stop before the door, the chauffeurs buy each other drinks and depart with faces somewhat redder than before.' Yesterday I saw a noncommissioned officer carefully confiding the password to an automobilist who desired to continue along the road. Near by was another noncommissioned officer hugging a little child with exuberant joy, while his wife, who had just arrived, stood by. This soldier had not seen his little family for three months and wished to have everyone share his pleasure. He

turned his beaming countenance right and left and as his eyes met mine he said: “It is fine to see one’s little world again. I asked myself when I went away if I should ever see this little doll again.” How Wives Meet Their Husbands. While his wife told him all the small happenings of the last three months he continued to kiss hia diminutive heir. Some wives who come far to see their husbands are less lucky, for the regulations are very strict. However, conjugal love Inspires some ingenious ruses. There is* a young woman here who is the wife of an officer on the firing line. Knowing the difficulty of approaching the lines, I did not conceal from her that her' enterprise seemed doomed to failure, but she smiled quietly and assured me that, neverthe less she would see her husband. After enjoying my astonishment, she explained that her husbhnd had written her that he goes almost daily to carry orders on horseback, t 5 kilometers (nine miles) behind the lines, She had only to go to a certain village and wait between six and nine o’clock in the morning in a church where he would go dally until he saw her. They could thus meet and nobody would be the wiser. *‘l am leaving for this village at four o’clock tomorrow morning,” said the young woman. “I do not dare, to go to bed tonight for fear I should oversleep.” Lives in Cellar Eight Weeks. Last night there was in the dining room a family of ragged, taciturn peasants from, some untenable farm near the front. Beside them a solitary young woman ate without appetite. She was from Reims, where she had been living in a cellar* for eight weeks. In a countenance of a cadaverous pallor shone two blinking eyes with reddened lids. From the sleeves of her black dress issued white fleshless arms on which the veins stood out like cords. Her whole appearance bore witness to terrible debility and her bearing still breathed dread. As she befit down to rearrange her skirt with her hand her wedding ring fell and rolled away. “I am so thin it won’t stay on my finger any more,” she said. Insignificant though the incident was it was more moving than I can say.