Coinciding with the Russian attempt to break once more through the Austro-Hungarian line into the Bukowina, attacks were launched from time to time at various places on the Dniester, Sereth, and Strypa, especially in the vicinity of Buczacz. None of these, however, had any effect, nor were other very occasional attacks west of Rovno and on the Styr of more avail. During the three weeks of fighting the Russians, according to official Austro-Hungarian figures, lost over 5,000 men by capture.

The Battle Front in Russia, January 1, 1916.

After a few days' lull the Russian armies began another battle with strong forces near Toporoutz and Bojan, east of Czernovitz, on January 18, 1916. The severity of the fighting increased on the next day, January 19, 1916, and at the same time heavy artillery fire was directed against many other points along the East Galician front. Again the Russians suffered severe losses during their repeated storming attacks against the strongly fortified positions of the Austro-Hungarian troops. After two days' preparation, by means of artillery fire, another attack was thrust against the Toporoutz section on January 22, 1916, but when this, too, did not bring the desired result the Russians apparently lost heart. For, from then on for the balance of January, 1916, as well as through the entire month of February, 1916, they made further attacks only at very rare intervals, but otherwise restricted themselves to artillery duels and trench fighting.[Back to Contents]

CHAPTER XXVII

ON THE TRACKS OF THE RUSSIAN RETREAT

In the preceding chapters we have followed, day by day, the military events of the Russian retreat and of the German advance after the fall of Warsaw and Ivangorod. With admiration we have heard of the deeds of valor accomplished by the various armies of the three belligerents. The endurance that they displayed, the hardships that they had to bear, the losses that they suffered—both victor and conquered—have given us a clearer idea what war means to the men that actually wage it. Occasionally we have had glimpses of the devastation that it brings to the country over the hills and valleys and over the plains and forests of which it rages. Again and again we have been told of the horrible suffering and utter ruin which was the share of the civic population, rich and poor, young and old, man, woman, or child. But these latter features are apt to be overshadowed by the more sensational events of battle and siege, and in the excitement of these we easily lose sight of the tremendous drama in which not trained soldiers act the parts, but ordinary everyday beings, farmers and merchants, working men and women, students and scholars, people of every age, race, and condition, people just like we ourselves and like those with whom we come in daily contact throughout our entire life. And yet their numbers run into the tens of millions as compared with the hundreds of thousands or perhaps four or five millions of soldiers, and it is their suffering—bared as it is of the glory and excitement that usually lightens the life of the fighting man—that is the quintessence of war's tragedy.

No one who has not been himself a participant or an actual observer of these horrors can really and truly gauge their full extent or describe them adequately. But a clear record of them is as much an essential requirement of a war's history as a chronological narration of its various events. In the following paragraphs will be found gathered reliable reports based on the keen observation of men who in their capacity as special correspondents of various newspapers had opportunities to collect and observe facts at close range and the very vicinity where they transpired. They come from various sources, but chiefly from the narrative of a war correspondent published in the Munich "Neueste Nachrichten," who was himself an eyewitness of what he describes. Although they refer more especially to that part of Russia that is situated between the Galician border and the fortress of Brest-Litovsk—the region of the Bug River—they might have been written equally well of any part or all of the eastern theatre of war, for they are typical of what happened throughout that vast territory that stretches from the eastern front as it stood at the time of Warsaw's fall in the beginning of August, 1915, to that other line that formed a new front, much farther to the east, when the German advance into Russia came to an end in the latter part of October, 1915:

"The first anniversary of the war had just passed. Again summer was upon us, like in those days of mobilization. The atmosphere was full with memories of the beginning of the campaign. Out of Galicia an endless column rolled to the north into Poland. The old picture: the creaking road, overloaded with marching troops, with artillery lustily rolling forward, with caravans of supply trains. Repeating itself a thousandfold, the sum total of the mass deepened the impression and made the idea of the 'supreme command of an army' appear like a fairy tale. Supply wagon after supply wagon, mile after mile, in a long, never-breaking chain!