A German heavy battery out of sight in a dip
toward the river came into action. From horizon to horizon the world was
noisy with the stupendous drum of artillery, while at each brief
interval the rending reverberation of rifle fire from trench to trench
tore at one's ears.
The dreary, icy night darkened over the desolate fields which in this
war have seen their crops trampled and have been sown with dead men. The
darkness was lit by gun flashes and brief moons of shrapnel winking
aloft, while from the opposite trench issued a ghostly, flickering blaze
of rifles at their work.
The attack developed after all to the left of the trench in which we
were. It was part of a great attack along a line which extended from
near Gradow southward to Rawa, and was unsuccessful everywhere.
When dark came I made my way out of the trench in the same way I had
previously entered it--under fire; but this time the moon was showing
frostily clear over the horrible levels, so that as we went we were
silhouetted against her vacant face. We obviously were plainly visible
to the Germans, for besides bullets, which were beginning to become
commonplace and unremarkable, a shrapnel shell came screaming up and
burst on the ground about twenty feet away.
We gained the road to Chervonaneva. The road was white and straight,
bare as one's empty hand. Here I endured the most curious experience of
my life.
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