A Russian eight-inch gun going into position during the fighting round Lublin.
At his invitation I went with him later in the afternoon to look at some new guns that had just come in. They were very interesting and encouraging, but cannot be discussed at present. With them had come new artillerymen, and the general went about addressing each batch. His talk was something like this, freely translated, “Welcome to my command, my good children. You are looking fit and well, and I am glad to have you with me. Now I suppose that you think you have come here to help me hold back the Germans. Well, you are mistaken. We are not here to hold anybody, but to lick the enemy out of his boots, and drive them all clean out of Russia, Poland and Galicia too, and you look to me like the men that could do the job.” The Russian soldiers usually cheer to order, but these soldiers responded with a roar, and when dismissed ran off to their positions cheering as long as they could be seen.
That night I dined with the General. In the midst of dinner some reinforcements passed up the street weary and footsore from a long day on the road. The General, dragging his staff with him, went out into the street, and stood, napkin in hand, watching each company as it passed him and calling to each a word of greeting. As the men passed one could see that each was sizing up the chief in whose hands rested their lives, and the future of their army; one could read their thoughts plainly enough. “Here is a man to trust. He will pull us through or die in the attempt.”
After dinner I went for a stroll with him, and he did not pass a soldier without stopping to speak for a moment. Late in the evening I saw him walking down the main street of the primitive little town stick in hand, and at every corner he stopped to talk with his men. I have never seen an army where the relations between officers and men were as they are in Russia, and even in Russia not such as between this man and his own soldiers. Already he has lost his own son in the war, yet has accepted his loss with a stoicism that reminds one a little of General Nogi under similar circumstances. This then is the man to whom Russia has entrusted what for the moment appears as her most important front.
The General permitted Prince Mischersky to accompany me during my visit to the positions on the following day. The Prince who is the personal aide-de-camp of the Emperor, and a charming man, took me in his own motor, and early we arrived at the head-quarters of a certain army corps. From here we drove to the town of Krasnystav where was the General of a lesser command. This point, though 14 versts from the German gun positions, was under fire from heavy artillery, and two 8-inch shells fell in the town as we entered, spouting bricks and mortar in every direction while great columns of black smoke poured from the houses that had been struck. While we were talking with the General in his rooms, another shell fell outside with a heavy detonation. From here we visited the division of another corps, where we borrowed horses and rode up to their reserve trenches and had a look at the troops, some of the most famous in Russia, whose name is well known wherever the readers have followed the fortunes of the war. We were perhaps 600 or 800 yards from the front line, and while we chatted with the grizzled old commander of a certain regiment, the enemy began a spasm of firing on the front line trench ahead of us, eleven shells bursting in a few minutes. Then they suspended entirely and once again quiet reigned through the woodland in which our reserves were.
From here by a narrow path we struck off to the west and worked our way up into one of the new front line trenches which are laid out on an entirely new plan, and have been in course of preparation ever since the days of the fighting on the San. They are the best trenches I have ever seen, and are considerably better in my opinion than those on the Blonie line in front of Warsaw which, before this, were the best that had ever come under my observation. Many things that I saw during this day led me to the conclusion that the Russians were doing everything in their power to prevent a repetition of the drive on the Dunajec. The German line of communications here, as I am informed, runs viâ Rawa Ruska, and owing to the difficulties of the terrain between where they now stand and the Galician frontier, it will be very difficult for them to retire directly south. Success in an action here, then, is of great importance to them. If they attack and fail to advance, they must count on the instant depression of the whole Austrian line, for the Austrians even when successful have not been greatly enthusiastic. If they are driven back, they must retire in the direction of Rawa Ruska, across the face of the army standing to the east; they must strike west through Poland, crossing the front of the army lying beside the Vistula; or they must try to negotiate the bad roads south of them, which present no simple problem. If the Russian centre can give them a good decisive blow there is every reason to believe that both flanking armies can participate pretty vigorously in an offensive. No one attaches much importance to the Austrians if the Germans can be beaten. As long as they continue successful, the Austrians, however, are an important and dangerous part of the Russian problem.
Russian artillery officers in an observation position during the fighting round Lublin.
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