Within a day or two of this outrage the British steamer Glengyle was also sunk in the Mediterranean, but happily all the passengers were saved. In the North Sea we had got the submarine danger well in hand, but in the far more extensive Mediterranean the enemy remained powerful for mischief down to the close of the year.

CHAPTER XIV.

We will now learn something of the fighting which took place in the first three months of the year 1915 on the north or right wing. For the first few weeks there was ordinary trench warfare such as was going on in the West. Attacks and counter-attacks were frequent, but there was no action of any great importance. Most of the attacks were made by night, beneath the light of rockets and star-shells and the glare of searchlights. On the Bzura River the trenches of friend and foe were only sixty yards apart, and in this section of the line the Germans tried a very ingenious method of breaking down the Russian wire entanglements. They filled barrels with clay, and rolled them down the slopes towards the Russians, who believed that men with wire-cutters were hiding behind the barrels and pushing them forward. They therefore flung their hand grenades at the barrels, only to discover that they were moving by their own weight, and that there were no men behind them. When the Russians had thus exhausted their supply of hand grenades, the Germans pushed forward and tried to rush the trenches. They were only beaten off after a furious struggle. Shells and bombs containing poison gases were also used by the Germans on this part of the line.

In Poland there was the same kind of warfare as on the Bzura. Across the plains the Germans had made a maze of very strong trenches and earthworks with deep underground chambers, floored and roofed with wood.

In Galicia, towards the end of January the bright sun melted the snows of the Carpathians, and the streams became roaring torrents which made a very effective barrier against surprise attacks. Nevertheless the enemy kept up a very heavy bombardment across the flooded waters. On the Donajetz River the Austrians broke the rules of war, and fired from their machine guns explosive bullets, which when they entered a man's body blew away half his back.

Towards the end of January the Russians began to take the offensive on the wings. At this time, you must remember, the new forces which the Allies in the West had raised were not yet ready to take the field. The "thin line of steel and valour" in Artois and Flanders was only just holding its own, and it was feared that if the Germans brought troops from the East they would be able to break through the Allied line and reach the Channel ports. The Grand Duke Nicholas was, therefore, requested to attack von Hindenburg, and prevent him from releasing troops for service in the West. Earlier in the war he had sacrificed large numbers of his men in East Prussia to give his Western Allies a breathing space. Now, although his forces were very weak in guns, rifles, and ammunition, he showed the same high courage and chivalry. He knew that, if he pushed forward into the sacred land of East Prussia, von Hindenburg would hasten to engage him, and that if he threatened Hungary, the great granary of the Central Powers, the enemy would be bound to oppose him. The Grand Duke Nicholas was well aware that he could not hope for conquest. All that he could do would be to worry the enemy and prevent him from sending troops to the West.

The Russians retaking a Trench before Bolimov.

(By permission of The Illustrated London News.)
The following account of the incident pictured above was given by a Russian soldier:—"They did not stay long when we came down on them with our bayonets. Our artillery had dropped many shells right in the trench before we got there. The machine guns played on us until the last minute, and we paused to fire at the gunners. The few Germans who were left tried to drag the guns away with them, but our men took them away from them."

In order to provide a sufficient force for these attacks, the Russians had to draw off men and guns from their centre. Von Hindenburg knew this, and he therefore determined to make another effort to capture Warsaw by a frontal attack. The fifty-sixth birthday of the Kaiser was drawing near, and what better present could be made to him than the great Polish capital? You will remember that at this time the Russians were lying along the right bank of the Bzura and its tributary the Rawka. Look at the map on the next page and find the town of Bolimov, on the western bank of the Rawka. It is about forty miles from Warsaw, and is connected with it by a fairly good road. In front of Bolimov there are rolling downs and belts of wood. You will notice that the Russian lines cross the Rawka south of Bolimov.

On the last day of January von Mackensen, who had brought up large numbers of heavy guns all along the left bank of the Rawka, began a terrific bombardment of the Russian lines. This was done to puzzle the Russians and make them uncertain as to where the infantry attack was to be made. The Germans proposed to advance on a line of seven miles between Bolimov and the Bzura.

On the night of 1st February, when the snow was falling heavily, the German guns fiercely shelled the Russian trenches between the Warsaw road and the Bzura River. When it was supposed that the wire entanglements had been blown into a million fragments and the trenches utterly wrecked, 140,000 Germans, including Prussian Guards, advanced in masses, sometimes ten and sometimes twenty-two deep. They were mown down by Russian shot and shell; nevertheless they carried the first line of trenches, and by the evening of the 2nd February had pushed the Russians back to the crest of a ridge behind the town of Borzymov. On Wednesday the Germans looked like succeeding; but by means of the railways which you see to the north and to the south of Borzymov, and also by means of the roads, the Grand Duke hurried up reinforcements from Warsaw. They marched through the driving snow, and arrived on the scene of battle late on Thursday. By this time the Germans had been checked. They had pushed across the crest of the ridge behind Borzymov, had advanced five miles along the railway, and had very nearly broken through the Russian front.

The Battle on the Rawka.

The fighting was terribly fierce, and the Germans lost heavily. Around Borzymov the slaughter was so great that the ground was cumbered with German dead, and the survivors used the bodies of their fallen comrades to build up defences. The woods to the south of the Bolimov-Warsaw road were also strewn with dead. By 8th February the Germans had been flung back to the banks of the Rawka, and the Russians had crossed the river at Dachova. The German loss cannot have been less than 20,000 men. The great attempt had failed, and it was now clear that Warsaw could not be captured by a frontal attack.

As soon as von Hindenburg saw that the Bzura-Rawka lines were too strong for him, he was ready with a new plan. He was now about to try a flank attack. Look carefully at the map on the next page and notice the railways which meet in the Polish capital. By these railways alone can a Russian army maintain itself westward of the Vistula. In front of the main railway (A A) from Warsaw to Petrograd you see a river line—that of the Niemen and the Narev. Von Hindenburg's plan was to push out from East Prussia, carry the river line, cut the railway, and thus force the Russians to retire from Warsaw, which would then fall into his hands. Meanwhile the Austrians, on the Russian left wing, were to drive back Brussilov, relieve Przemysl, and try to recapture Lemberg. If these operations should succeed, the Russians would be forced back from the line of the Vistula to the river Bug, and it would take them a year's fighting to recover the lost ground.

First of all we will follow the fortunes of the East Prussian campaign. While the fighting was proceeding on the Rawka, the Russians, who numbered about 120,000, were making headway in East Prussia. Despite the keen frost, the icy winds, and the deep snowdrifts, they pushed back the weak German forces opposed to them, until, on 6th February, their right was not far from Tilsit, and their left rested on the town of Johannisburg. Nowhere were they less than twenty-five miles within the East Prussian frontier.

On 7th February von Hindenburg sprang his surprise upon the invaders. He suddenly hurled 300,000 men against the whole line which the Russians were holding. According to custom, the German left wing made an outflanking movement. It was successful, and the Russians holding this part of the line were forced to retreat along the railway towards Kovno. The 20th Corps just to the south of it now had its right "in the air," and was obliged to retire. In the forests and marshes north of Suwalki it was broken up into parties of stragglers. The remainder of the Russian line was also driven back, but only after a stern struggle. By 15th February the Germans were on Russian soil, and were moving towards the river line which screens the railway from Warsaw to Petrograd. They were about to attack on the Niemen, the Bobr, and the Narev at one and the same time. If the river line should be forced, the railway would soon be reached and cut.

I have told you what happened in East Prussia in a few sentences; but you must not suppose that the Germans won easy victories. The Russians resisted desperately, and many of them fought to the last cartridge. Though their losses were very heavy, they performed a great feat in retreating seventy miles with a force three times as great hard on their heels. The Germans had a good railway system to help them in their East Prussian advance, but more than half of the Russian army had to retire through thick forests and drag heavy guns across a rough, broken country deep in snow and without railways.

Map to illustrate the German attack on the river line.

The Kaiser sent the following message to his people: "Russians crushingly defeated. Our beloved East Prussia liberated from the enemy. Our beautiful Mazurian land is waste. (Signed) Wilhelm." The Germans claimed that they had captured 75,000 prisoners and 300 guns, but this was false. The total Russian losses were, perhaps, 80 guns and 30,000 men.

Austrian Trenches.  Photo, Topical Press.

This photograph gives a good idea of the way in which trenches are constructed and manned. It will be noticed that the front and rear trench communicate by means of a narrow cutting, and that the trenches are dug zigzag so that they cannot be enfiladed along the full length.

CHAPTER XV.

Thus the attacks on the Niemen and the Bobr had come to nothing. By the beginning of March the Russians were advancing everywhere along the line from Kovno to the Narev, and the Germans were slowly retiring towards East Prussia. There was desperate fighting with the bayonet amidst the marshy woods near Augustovo, where large captures were made of German guns, supplies, and prisoners. By the middle of March the Germans were covering the East Prussian frontier, and were only ten miles within Russian territory. Meanwhile a great battle had been fought and lost on the Narev.

Look carefully at the map on p. 115; it shows you the country between the East Prussian frontier and the Narev. This river flows in a winding course through a district of marshes and heavy woods, with here and there a few ridges. To the north of the river, and to the east of the town of Przasnysz,[21] which stands midway between the frontier and the Narev, there are some fairly high hills with patches of forest on their sandy slopes. The crossing-places of the Narev are protected by fortified towns, some of which you see marked by a star on the map.

Find the town of Mlawa, of which you have already heard. On a front stretching for some twenty-five miles to the north-east of that town, and about a day's march in front of the Prussian frontier railway, the Germans massed two corps, and on 22nd February began to advance in three columns. The right travelled from Mlawa by the railway which you see marked on the map, the centre marched along the main highway towards Przasnysz, and the left followed the valley of a little river towards a road which enters the same town from the north-east. There was only a single Russian brigade in front of Przasnysz, and it was easily driven back. On the 24th the Germans entered the town, in which they seized a number of guns and captured about half the brigade which had been defending it.

On the previous day another Russian advanced body which lay on a ridge near the village of Vola, to the south of Przasnysz, had been attacked. Elsewhere the Germans were advancing without much difficulty, but on this ridge a violent battle raged, and the Russians made a most heroic stand. For thirty-six hours they held out, and on the evening of the 24th their reinforcements arrived. Four columns of Russians had advanced on Przasnysz from the Narev line, and the invaders were pressed northward on three sides. They were driven through the town in confusion, and on the 26th it was once more in Russian hands. All the next day the battle raged amongst the snowy ridges to the north-east and north-west of the town, and by Sunday morning the enemy was in full retreat for the frontier, leaving 10,000 prisoners behind him. Thus the whole attempt to capture Warsaw by a flank movement had failed.

Scene of the Fighting round Przasnysz.

The Battle of Przasnysz was more like a struggle of the Middle Ages than a modern battle. The Russians short of arms and ammunition, and they could not supply all their trained men with rifles. In this and in other fights the Russians kept unarmed troops in the rear. When the men with rifles fell, the unarmed were sent forward to take up the weapons of the dead and wounded and then fling themselves on the foe. Men rushed into the firing line at Przasnysz with a sword bayonet in one hand and two bombs in the other. They charged through rifle and machine-gun fire until they were near enough to fling their bombs, and then fell furiously upon the enemy with cold steel, utterly reckless of wounds and death. The Germans could not stand against such an onset, and fled. Thus by sheer bodily might the Russians had flung back in rout a foe superior to them in numbers, and once more von Hindenburg found Warsaw beyond his grasp.

The Retreat of the Austrians across the Uzsok Pass.    By permission of The Sphere.

This spirited drawing shows Russian cavalry driving the Austrians across the snow-bound Uzsok Pass. (See page 120.) In this attack the Russians fell upon the flank and rear of the Austrians during a violent snowstorm, and pursued them for many miles. Hundreds of Austrians surrendered.

CHAPTER XVI.

During the month of January the Russians strove hard to push across the Galician passes, and their cavalry actually descended to the Hungarian plain thirty miles south of the mountains. Not only was fighting going on in Galicia, but in Bukovina[22]—that is, the country of the beech woods—which stretches southward from the Dneister, across the Pruth and the Sereth, to the eastern face of the Carpathians. Ever since September 1914 the Russians had held Northern Bukovina, and they now wished to conquer the whole of it, for several reasons. In the first place, it was Germany's main source of supply for petrol; in the second place, it lay on the frontier of Rumania, and it was thought that the presence of a Russian army in Bukovina would induce Rumania to join the Allies. Further, if Rumania should elect to do so, she would be able to join hands at once with the Russians. In the third place, there are several fairly easy passes from Bukovina into Hungary, and one of them is the main route from the north to the plains of Hungary.

The Russians had only a division in Bukovina, and the Austrians opposed them with a force which was not much stronger. By the middle of January almost all the country was in the hands of the Russians. They had, however, not yet secured the pass which would enable them to advance into Hungary.

The time had now come for the Austrians to make a great effort to save Hungary, and to prevent Rumania, with her large and well-equipped army, from entering into the struggle on the side of the Allies. How was this to be done? Two campaigns were necessary—the one to drive back Brussilov from the passes and to relieve Przemysl, and the other to clear Bukovina of the invaders.

Let us see how the campaign in Bukovina fared. Three Austrian corps and one German corps crossed the mountains and advanced in two columns. The Russians, you will remember, had only one division with which to meet these four army corps. They were obliged to fall back, and thus Bukovina was cleared. The Austrians captured town after town, and early in March they entered Stanislau,[23] a railway junction only seventy miles from Lemberg. They were delighted with their success, and they reported that they had made huge captures of prisoners. They had now reached a position from which they could threaten the Russian communications. Soon, however, it was discovered that the Russians had only fallen back to a point where they could be reinforced. As soon as their numbers were sufficiently increased they advanced again, and pushed the Austrians out of Stanislau, and almost back to the line of the Pruth. By doing so they removed the danger to their communications.

Position of the Russians in Galicia at the end of 1914.

Meanwhile what had happened in Galicia? Two Austrian armies had been fighting fierce battles in the deep snows and slush of the Carpathians. With infinite labour guns and transports had been hauled up the icy slopes, where a foothold could barely be maintained. Infantry attacks were difficult; the white snow threw up the figures of the men, who thus became excellent targets, no matter what uniforms they wore. Even night attacks were revealed, for on moonless nights the light reflected from the snow made all things clear. Both sides suffered terribly from the cold, but it told more severely on the Austrians than on the Russians, who are accustomed to bitter winters. In the last week of January a bright sun shone, and often the pure white snow was stained scarlet with the blood of the fallen. Blizzards swept across the mountains during February, and checked the fighting on the uplands, though it continued to rage in the foothills. Perhaps the most terrible hand-to-hand fighting known to history took place at a little village near the Uzsok Pass. Large German forces for two months vainly tried to oust the Russians, who had captured the position from them. Some idea of the awful losses sustained by the Germans may be gathered from the statement that one regiment changed from colonel to drummer boy three and perhaps four times. The village stands on a height, and during the winter is shrouded in snow. While the furious battles were raging, the height was reduced to bare soil, every foot of its surface having been ploughed with shell and drenched with blood. You can imagine the horror of trench life in this region, with the thermometer below freezing-point and the icy blizzards blowing almost daily. In some places the trenches were only forty paces apart, and so fierce were the attacks and counter-attacks that eight out of every ten men engaged in them are said to have fallen. At the beginning of February the Russians in this region destroyed a whole battalion of Germans, save the commander and twenty men.

The Austrian army which fought between the Dukla Pass and the Uzsok Pass was charged with the duty of relieving Przemysl, but it was held back by the Russians, as also was the army which was operating more to the east. During the last days of February and the first days of March Brussilov fought a fierce battle on a ridge near the Uzsok Pass. He held the heights, drove back the Austrians, and even the most desperate bayonet attacks could not force him from his position of vantage. The Austrians were held up, and the Russians gained sufficient time to reinforce their weak troops which had been driven out of Bukovina. I have already told you that they advanced again and pushed the Austrians back to the line of the Pruth.

The attempt to relieve Przemysl had failed, and on 22nd March the fortress fell. Before I proceed to tell you the story of this Russian success, let me give you some idea of the situation and importance of Przemysl. It has been famous as a fortress for a thousand years. In early times it was regarded as the key to the Hungarian plains, and in modern times it has been considered as the main outlying protection to the city of Cracow. The town claims to date back to the eighth century, and certainly is one of the oldest cities of Galicia. The river San, which washes its walls, descends in wide sweeps from the Uzsok Pass, through mountain glens filled with fir and beech trees, and then through the vales of the foothills, which are planted with groves of apricot, pear, and cherry, and are dotted here and there with brightly painted wooden houses. The valley of the San is the orchard land of Galicia.

The first modern forts of Przemysl were erected in 1871, and since then have been several times enlarged and improved, until, on the eve of the war, the fortress was one of the strongest in the country. It was a ring fortress like Liége and Namur. At a distance of six miles from the city there was a circle of outer forts with smaller works connecting them. Within this ring, about a thousand yards from the city, there was another circular series of forts. Had Russia been supplied with heavy siege guns such as the Germans brought against the Belgian and French fortresses, Przemysl would have fallen in a month. As it was, it held out, during its second siege, for seven months.

A glance at the map[24] shows you that Przemysl is chiefly important because of its situation with regard to the railways of Galicia. It stands on the main trunk line connecting Lemberg with Cracow, and it gives railway access to the Lupkow and Uzsok passes. While Przemysl held out the Russians had to send supplies to their armies by long and roundabout routes, and they could not readily mass troops for a big movement against the passes. As far back as September 27, 1914, the Russians had closed round it, and had sat tight in their trenches hoping to starve it into surrender. The town was not well supplied with provisions, and by the middle of October the defenders were on very short commons indeed. Then came a blessed respite. Von Hindenburg's first assault on Warsaw forced Ivanov to retire beyond the San, and the Austrians found themselves able to pour food, ammunition, and supplies into the besieged fortress. By the 12th of November, when the Russians had surrounded it once more, there were four Austrian army corps in the place, and these, with the townsfolk and refugees, numbered some 200,000 souls.

It is still a matter of wonder why the Austrians kept four army corps in Przemysl. To hold the twenty-five miles circuit of the fortress 50,000 men would have been ample, and every extra mouth in the place only brought the day of surrender nearer. One would have supposed that during the retreat of the Russians in October distant lines of trenches would have been flung out from Przemysl, as had been done at Verdun. The Austrians, however, showed no foresight, and the governor seems to have considered the town a capital place in which to spend the winter. When the Russians returned they had nothing to do but sit down and let the garrison eat up its supplies. When food gave out the fortress was bound to fall.

The Fall of Przemysl.

(From the picture by H. C. Seppings-Wright. By permission of The Illustrated London News.)
This picture, which was drawn by the artist on the spot, shows Russians advancing to occupy the fortress, and passing on the way large numbers of Austrians who had been captured in the final sortie. The town of Przemysl is seen in the distance on the right. In the background are seen Austrian forts and a railway bridge being blown up. Almost in the middle of the picture a land-mine is exploding.

In December the Austrians made an attempt to relieve the fortress. In Chapter XXVII. of our third volume I told you how the Austrians launched two armies against the Russians, who were then threatening Cracow, and how the Russians were forced to retreat to the position shown on the map on page 119. During the Russian retreat the Austrians were so near to Przemysl that they could hear its guns thundering, and exchange signals with its garrison by means of searchlights. The time had come for the Austrians within the fortress to dash out and break through the lines of their besiegers. On 15th December five regiments did so.

They broke through the Russian lines at the south-east angle, and for four days there was fierce and doubtful fighting. The Russians, however, managed to drive the Austrians back into the town. The sortie had failed, with a loss of 3,000 killed and wounded. Shortly afterwards Brussilov cleared the mouths of the passes, and by Christmas Day Przemysl was once more girdled by a ring of iron. I have already told you how the Austro-Germans made another attempt late in January and early in February 1915 to relieve the strain on the fortress, and how it came to nought. Thereafter the fall of Przemysl was only a matter of time.

Fighting went on night and day. Many times the Austrians strove to break out, but each time they were driven back, with huge losses on both sides. The Russians counter-attacked, and won several of the forts. "These unexpected blows," wrote a Russian general, "greatly excite the garrison. Right through the night their searchlights sweep to and fro over our positions, and the long white rays rest trembling on every fold of the ground. At times something alarms the forts, and the air is instantly filled with the thunder of Austrian guns. The fire is kept up for thirty minutes to an hour before it subsides again." It is worthy of note that not a single Russian shell fell within the town itself.

But all the time famine was doing its deadly work. Up to December there was no shortage of food; but when the new year set in the rations were severely cut down, first for the civilians, then for the soldiers, next for the hospitals, and finally for the officers. The weather grew cold, and there was no firewood. Bread could not be obtained at all, and a fowl cost twenty-four shillings. Soon the cavalry began slaughtering their horses for food. By March a cow was selling for £140, and a dog for £2, 10s.

Mr. Stanley Washburn, a correspondent with the Russian army, tells us that the place was greatly over-garrisoned by patient, haggard soldiers starving in the trenches and sleek faultlessly-dressed officers living on the fat of the land in fashionable hotels and restaurants. While the garrison became thin and half starved, the officers ate three meals a day, and enjoyed fresh meat, cigars, wines, and every luxury. While soldiers were falling fainting in the streets, their officers were leading the life to which they had been accustomed in Vienna during times of peace.

On the night of 13th March the end began. The Russians pushed through the outer line of defences and began to bombard the inner forts. Four days later the Austrians strove for the last time to break out, but the Russian guns caught them and mowed them down in swathes. The survivors were driven back with heavy loss, and 4,000 prisoners remained in Russian hands. Early on the morning of the 22nd the besiegers were awakened by the noise of loud explosions. The Austrians were blowing up the forts before surrendering the city. We are told that the burning forts smoked like a circle of volcanoes. Soon a white flag was seen fluttering above the highest building in the town. Przemysl was ready to surrender. Meanwhile the officers were shooting their chargers, to prevent them from falling into the hands of the Russians, and the soldiers, crazy with hunger, were greedily devouring the raw flesh. Tons of explosives were sunk in the river, guns and rifles were destroyed, and bridges were blown up.

About nine o'clock a letter reached the Russian headquarters from the Austrian general saying that hunger had forced him to yield the fortress. A few Russian officers entered and received the surrender; but there was no triumphal parade such as had been witnessed when the Germans entered Antwerp.

So fell Przemysl. Its capture was not so much a Russian victory as an Austrian disgrace. By overcrowding the place with soldiers, and putting careless, ignorant officers in charge of them, the Austrians ensured its downfall. About 120,000 prisoners, including 2,600 officers, fell into Russian hands; about 1,000 guns were captured, 180 of them fit for use, as well as a large amount of shell and small-arm ammunition. Russia had obtained an excellent base from which to advance against the central passes of the Carpathians, and she had set free an army of 100,000 men for future operations.

The fall of Przemysl was greeted with great delight by the Allies, and it was thought that before the end of the summer Cracow would be sure to fall, Silesia would be entered, and the Russian legions would be sweeping through Hungary. Alas! these rosy hopes were soon to be disappointed. Within five weeks clouds began to gather in the East. The Russians were caught napping. The strongest army which Germany had ever mustered was hurled against them, and huge guns drove them remorselessly back from the soil which they had so hardly won. Less than forty days after the Austro-Germans began to move, Przemysl was once more in their hands. Nor was the retreat stayed until the Russians were driven far back on their own soil, and the very existence of their armies was at stake.

CHAPTER XVII.

Mr. Washburn, who has already been mentioned in these pages, tells us that the Russian officer looks upon his men as his children, and that they call him "father." "It is a strange relation," he says, "that one sees between them. I recall seeing a grizzled old colonel marching his much-cut-up regiment past him on the plains of Poland after an action. As each company passed the old hero called out in his deep bass voice, 'I am pleased with you, my children; you have done well,' And each company replied in unison, 'Thank you, father; we are willing to do as much again.' And then they all marched back to the trenches and took up the burden of the campaign once more."

You have already heard much about the Cossacks, who used to be considered demons of cruelty, but are now known to be much like other Russians—easy-going, kindly, and good-natured. One of the Cossack regiments is described as being clad in baggy greatcoats of undressed sheepskin dyed a deep claret colour, while other regiments sport similar garments of a bright orange hue. All wear on their heads hairy busbies about the size of a bushel measure. Each man owns his horse, and grooms it until it looks like a racing thoroughbred. The Germans go in terror of the Cossacks. A story is told that when a German soldier was captured in Poland he looked uneasily about him. On being asked what worried him, he said, "The Cossacks." He then went on to say that he and his comrades believed that the Cossacks could not be trusted alone even by the Russians. They were, he said, brought to the front in huge vans, and when an action began the vans were turned towards the enemy, and the doors were thrown open, when out leaped the Cossacks, sword in hand, and dashed upon the foe. When the fight was over, so he told his captors, the Cossacks were rounded up and coaxed back into their cages, where they were kept in confinement until the next battle!

An American doctor who offered his services to Russia because "Russia stuck to us during the Civil War," tells us that though the Germans are better rifle shots than the Russians, they cannot compare with the Tsar's soldiers when it comes to the bayonet. "When these moujiks,"[25] said the doctor, "climb out of their trenches and begin to sing their national songs they just go crazy, and they aren't scared of anything; and believe me, when the Germans see them coming across the fields bellowing these songs of theirs, they just don't wait one minute, but dig right out across the landscape as fast as they can tear. I don't think there's a soldier in the world that has anything on the Russian private for bravery. They are a stubborn lot, too, and will sit in trenches in all weathers, and be just as cheerful under one condition as another. One big advantage over here, as I regard it, is the good relations between the soldiers and their officers."

Mr. Washburn tells us[26] how the colonel of a Russian battery "had a great laugh on the enemy. What happened was this. A German Taube flew over the line several times, and it kept coming back so frequently, and hovering over the battery, that the officers who were watching it became suspicious that they had been 'spotted.' When darkness fell the men of the battery became extremely busy, and by working like bees moved their guns perhaps 600 yards to the south, and by daylight had them in the new positions and fairly well masked. Shortly after sunrise back came the aeroplane, and when over the old position it gave a signal to its own lines and then flew back. Almost instantly shells fell fast and thick on the abandoned spot. Six hundred yards away the men of the battery watched the shells falling, and laughed their sides out at the way they had fooled the Germans. . . . From glancing at the field torn up with shell fire one begins to realize what observation means to the enemy. With modern methods a single signal from an aeroplane may mean the wiping out in a few minutes of an unsuspecting battery that has been safely hidden for months."