At the end of 1915 and in 1916 the struggle was rather less bitter but still deadly enough: the story of a mine exploded by the Germans, as told by a young Lieutenant of the 74th Infantry Regiment, brings out vividly the tragic side.
"On the evening before, I had relieved, between the point "X" and the point "C", a section of the 129th. My night had been spent in visiting my posts and establishing contact. At daybreak I returned to my hole, a mine listening gallery running down crosswise for about 15 metres. Everything was quiet and it appeared that the enemy had done no work for two days on their mine chamber. Were we going to be blown up? No one dreamt it would be so.
"About 4 p.m. we distinguished quite plainly the detonations of several petards. "Good, the Boches are working, we are alright for to-day!"
"At that very moment we heard a formidable rumbling, our dug-out rocked and came to earth again as though a Hercules had lifted it several metres high and then let it fall again with a bump. We were turned topsy-turvy one on top of the other in the darkness.
"Cries were heard, some one was wounded. We lighted a candle and extricated the man who fortunately had nothing the matter. "Come on, boys, at them with bombs".
"To get out—the exit was blocked three metres high at least. Moreover a stream of water had been let in at the higher end of the sap.
"Without loss of time we got down to work. To reach the piled up debris a man had to crawl in the midst of the stream, flat on his stomach, and only one could work at a time.
"An hour passed, then two, centuries it seemed. The water rose, the air became less and less pure.
"I spare you the agony of a man who perceived that his end was near, who saw it coming and knew that he could not escape it.
"It was now three hours since the mine went up. The water had reached our feet. The candles had gone out, we could breathe only with the greatest difficulty, and everything seemed to be going round.