Evening journal., 1914-12-01
American War Correspondent
Describes Battle of PTZemySl
BY WILLIAM c. sHErHER D, United Press Correspondent

PRzEMYSL, Oct. 29.-(By Mail
to New York; .- PASSED by the War
Press Bureau This is my diary
of yesterday, which l spent on the
Austrian firing line, twelve miles
from here.
745 a. m.-Under the escort of
Colonel John and Captain Miakicho.
We start for the front I'VE" in
cludes John Quincy Adams. the great
American painter. Robert w. Dunn.
of the New York Evening Post. who
has arrived, and myself We bundled
into one of the typical sprngless.
basket-bodied Galician wagons.
500 a. m.-We are on the main
road leading from the great fortif-
cation of Przemysl to the hills where
the artillery firing is heaviest At
$40 we pass the cholera hospital and
five minutes later we pass through
the gate OF the inner Notifications
The road is covered with wagons.
Two tightly packed lines Of them are
going in our direction Another line
on the left Is going toward Przemysl
with sick and wounded The steam
from thousands of sweating horses
rises like a thin mist along the trail
The sight is so wonderful that even
the wounded men keep their eyes
on IL. The sick men, some with the
green faces and loose. opened mouths
Of cholera victims. hang their heads
half dead.
SIS a.. m.-On both sides Of the
road. on ploughed farm land. huge
hra Of tr,fV
have stamped the wet earth into a
! black, smooth shining field that gilt
ters like jet.
S.45-We pass the outer line Of
| fortifications. The trenches are
lined and foored with willow or
straw mating AS far as our eyes
/ can reach. TO our right and left,
stretch small forests" Of posts, hit
ching post high. with barb wire hung
and tangled between them.
9.1O-Our wagon is springless.
Now / know why all the wounded
men ] have seen in the carts have
/ such strained faces.
9.35-The road dips into a valley.
| On both sides stretches an immense
camp of tents and covered wagons.
| The smoke of thousands of fires
phangs over Il all. Mud. men. flags,
/ smoke. horses, wagons, piles OF
/ bread, harness, rifles. form a weird
and indescribable picture that COW
ers hundreds of acres in the valley.
/ This is a reserve camp.
9.45.-We make a trip on foot
through the camp. Hello. there,
you American!" I hear a man call
l r.... . 1z..1-,a sf,...t-go -nh,o,,o,. -
/ He shows me a letter he has just
written. It is addressed TO Helen
o. Reese. 1900 Calvert street. Balti-
more, Md. The officer who write II
is Lieutenant Carl Hoffman of the
11th army corps. He is a big hand
some fellow. who has lived in Amer
lea
950.-A spherical balloon. a diri-
gible balloon and two aeroplanes are
soaring or darting about above the
hills.
10.20.-We cross a narrow gauge
railroad track laid over ploughet
farms. It is an artillery railroad
The cars are very small, but horsei
pull them more rapidly than wag
ons. There is a string of cars acros
the horizon. They are feeding thu
artillery in the hills two miles away
with shrapnel shells. The railroad
TO Sanok runs through this farm ane
when we pass the depot of Hermano
vice. we see wounded and sick mer
lying all about the platforms. They
are waiting for trains which will
carry them back to the base hos
pitals.
10.30.-The sound of firing is inces.
sent and huge in volume The Aus
trian batteries fire one gun at q
time The Russians are firing sal.
vos. zone, two, three. four, five
six" go the Austrian howitzers
"Br-r-r-r-" go the Russian pieces al
firing at one time All before us
hills of covering miles of territory
from hilltop to hilltop and from
valley to valley the battle is raging
How can a man paint a battle lilS'
this?" asks Adams, who has just
finished a picture of the Emperor ci
Austria Hungary in seven sittings
and who usually isn't stalled by i'm
portant arsignments.
10.35.-Many wounded have passed
us in wagons. "I'll never paint wal
pictures again Of men going into
battle singing and waving theil
swords" said Adams. THAT mar
with the green, twisted face on that
wagon, suffering from cholera is q
more tremendous picture Of war thar
all the exploding cannon / can paint.
In the midst of ali the life and ac'
tivity and movement. the man was
dying before our eyes. There was