Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1914-12-31
BY CAPT. F. G. KLEINsCHMIDT.

Berlin.-It is midnight The re
serve battalion of the Forty-ninth
Prussian infantry regiment swings
from the broad macadamiZed highway
into muddy country road. Out of the
darkness looms a large farmhouse
surrounded by stables and a large
barn; it is their destination for the
night. Behind the reserve battalion
follows a battery. Stealthily, with
out sound, they have all arrived, for
likely yonder, where the dark line
shows the beginning of a forest.
The leader raps on the window.
open, please. Quarters for tonight"
The door is opened and a room is
made ready for the officers. The men
must find place to sleep in the barn,
which is full Of hay and straw. but
before turning in, some want the
warmth of the fire and cup of coffee.
They open the kitchen and an elderly
man from the reserve, a "landwehr-
man." formerly a rural letter carrier,
makes a fire and begins to grind cot
fee.
Are there any Russians around
here?" someone asks the farmer.
NO, they were here yesterday. All
are away now"
The officers are looking around in
the rooms not used by their host and
family, and then stretch their weary
legs on the wooden benches in the
large living room. In the barn on the
threshing floor filed with straw, the
men are making themselves comfort
able. Like a "will-o -the-wisp" flashes
here and there a pocket lamp or
cigar igniter, careful that not a glim-
mer of light may be seen towards the
forest. Strict orders for the greatest
secrecy have been given.
One of the men has a creepy feel
ing, imagining that something is not
quite right, and voices his feelings,
but he is Knocked by his comrades,
who are too tired to bother about
spooks Another, climbing the straw
pile, suddenly feels something NOV
ing under his foot.
Hidden in the Straw.
There is somebody here. Make
light! Here! Here!"
Out of the straw gray cap, a sec
ond, a third. Bearded faces pop up
everywhere. The whole threshing
floor of straw is alive in a moment.
A petty officer jumps out of the barn
door, seizes his gun, and now levels
it at the dark forms.
Hands up, l sayi Don't you novel,
One gets a rap with the butt. He
fires, and a second one rolls insensible
down the straw-pile.
Hands up. l say"
Everywhere gray forms are stretch
ing hands toward heaven. At the same
time, outside the barn commences
furious firing. The men jump to
their rifles and out of the yard. Or
ders are being shouted, but how to
obey-where to go, in this pitch dark
ness, and out of this hell-hole-is the
question. You cant see your next
man, let alone the enemy. The Rus
sians-there, yonder, on the edge of
the forestl
Yes, yonder flash a hundred lights
They rattle and crack like whips, and
bullets patter on the walls or splash
on the ground. In the kitchen stands
the grizzly old veteran, busy with his
coffee-pot. ooh bosh, it won't amount
to anything he growls to himself
A window-pane skaters and the man
falls headlong to the floor. Here a
cry, there a groan, but now the rifles
begin to bark on the Prussian side
also. The men have jumped behind
the stone wall, behind trees and stone
fences, and are firing as best they can
into the darkness in the face of spit
ting lightning on the edge of the for