When we again emerged from this gray ocean of clouds it was twilight. But suddenly, before, behind and on the sides, white smoke clouds appeared bursting shrapnel. Still flying above the enemy's position, we were directly exposed to their artillery fire. Devil with it! The fire grew worse. I knew from the little trembles that the machine was getting blow upon blow, but it never entered my mind that those shrapnel balls meant death to me. Something in man remains unmoved by logic and knowledge—especially when you're in the air. There, of a sudden, a white-yellow fire in front of me. The machine reared up. The major seemed to reel to his feet. Blood was pouring from his shoulder. The covering of the wings was tattered. The motor buzzed and roared as before, but the screw was missing. A grenat shattered our propellor, but, thank heaven, did no worse. My machine began sinking to earth. I succeeded in gliding and threw the biplane down into the woods. The branches and tree tops crashed to splinters. I struck the steering gear and then was no longer aware of what went on around me. When I again became conscious I was lying next to Major G. on the forest ground surrounded by a group of German reservists. Recognizing the machine, they had forced themselves into the forest in small numbers to save us. Major G. had to be removed to the nearest hospital. I only received a crushed leg.
Your Affectionate Son.
(The two foregoing stories are here retold by permission of the New York American, to whom they were sent from Germany.)
TALES FROM SIBERIA—WHEN THE PRISON DOORS OPENED
Journey Home of a Hundred Thousand Exiles
Told by (name withheld), an Eye-Witness
I—"RUSSIA IS A REPUBLIC—YOU ARE FREE"
The exiles in the Irkutsk prisons were watching eight fellow prisoners who were being flogged. Suddenly, in the doorway, an official appeared. It was the Provincial State Attorney. There was a look of great tidings in his face.
"Russia is a republic," he cried. "You are free."