M., September 10, 1914
Yesterday I went along to the light artillery positions, and from there had a good view of the battlefield. There really was nothing to see. There were no large bodies of soldiers, only here and there a rider or a civilian. The only thing you could see was the smoke from bursting shells and the burning villages all about. But if there was nothing to see, there certainly was plenty to hear—the dull noise of the light artillery, the sharp crash of the field pieces and the crackling of small arms. On the way we passed an encampment of reserves. It was a scene exactly like one during the annual manœuvers; some were cooking, some strolling about, but most of them loafed around on their backs, not paying any attention to the battle at all.
At 5:30 we went up. Now I had a chance to see from the air the same scene I had just beheld from the ground. There was still heavy firing; as far as the eye could see villages were burning. At 7:30 we were down again.
B., September 16, 1914
Last night three of us tried to take some observations, but all had to come back, as the clouds were too heavy. This morning it was my turn to go up, but it was raining. We have to have the fires going to keep our quarters warm. Next to me a log-fire is burning merrily. My back is baked to a crisp. When my one side gets too hot, I have to turn to give the other a chance to roast. Later some of the telegraphers are coming over and we are going to play “Schafskopf” (a German card game). C’est la guerre!
This evening I received the Iron Cross.