What a German Officer Saw.
From the diary of a German petty officer who is fighting in France, these extracts, as his own experience, are made:
“On all sides and in front, as well as below in the valley, the red breeches can be seen swarming in the underbrush. Thus both divisions of our tenth company find themselves facing apparently overwhelming superior forces. I myself make a run to where the captain should be. On the way a trumpeter transmits this order to me: ‘Third column deploy and continue firing, or, if possible, attack!’ I never ran so fast as I did then over those stubbles.
“‘Third column, up! up! Fix bayonets! Right turn, forward, double-quick! Follow me!’ I cried. Out comes the shining steel from its sheath. I catch a glimpse of an opening in a garden wall. “This way, through! Occupy the hedge! Cut loopholes!’
“‘What range?’ the men call.
“‘Range seven hundred! Half right, straight ahead in the poplars, hostile infantrymen! Range seven hundred! Fire!’ was my reply.
“Just as we opened fire the enemy comes charging from out the poplars. Only a few steps they run, and then, as if thunder-stricken, the whole line of red breeches sinks to the earth. Our aim was good. How quiet the fallen Frenchmen lie! But soon the hellish racket begins again. In front of us a machine gun goes ‘tap, tap, tap.’ Whizzing and whirring, the bullets fly about us.
“Through an opening the men swarm through to the left! The bravest hurry on in advance. Five or six hang back till their leader roughly grabs them and kicks them through the hedge opening. There must have been 800 rifles or more! A withering fire tells us that the enemy has discovered our movements. But we return his fire as we run. Many of our men fall. But, lo! presently the enemy’s fire begins to dwindle and soon dies down almost completely. There, what is that? In the midst of the enemy’s line of fire a tremendous pillar of smoke.
We saw how the French were blown yards high. A terrible thunderclap reaches our ears. Hurrah! Our artillery!
“Shell after shell buries itself, as if measured with extraordinary exactitude in the very midst of the French infantry lines. We follow this up with our own fast rifle fire.
“Now we charge forward to where we can plainly see their faces. The panic of the enemy was indescribable. Our fellows mow them down. And now a new hail of shrapnel beats down upon them. Again the red breeches surge back in wild flight. We fire on the retreating enemy in a cornfield beyond. Many Frenchmen can be seen falling in the gold cornfield beyond, never to rise again.”