During the last few days a certain lull in the frequency of these
attacks has been observable and has been construed by the Russians as
prefatory to renewed endeavors to force the line and advance a short
stage on the dangerous road to Warsaw. This premonition was justified on
New Year's Day when the enemy's attacks were renewed east of Guzow. The
armies are facing each other across their breastworks at a distance
varying from 200 to 300 yards. The dawn of 1915, the Germans roused
themselves again to the dreary energy of the hopeless battle. I watched
the shelling from the headquarters of a regiment which is occupying a
trench in the centre of the front line.
It was impossible to approach the trench more nearly during daylight, as
the grassless brown flats were noisy with bullets from the German lines.
They shoot with wasteful prodigality shrapnel and even heavier shells on
any single figure that is discernible; but when early dark came down the
attempt was made successfully and the first line held by the Bielojevsky
Regiment was reached. I had the advantage of the company up to the zone
of fire of Prince Peter Volkonsky, who is leader of a Red Cross motor
column. Throughout our journey the Germans were firing rockets. A slow,
green ball of fire ascends as gradually into the air as a loaded
balloon, seems to poise aloft for a moment, then sinks slowly to earth,
lighting the country for a long way around with a ghastly green
illumination.
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