The Detroit times., 1914-12-05
BY WILLIAM G.. SHEPHERD.

l6IdH Correspondent Untted PreSS.)
PRZEMYSL, Nov 1.-(By Courier
to Vienna, Thence by Mail to New
York)-It is evening of Sunday.
went TO church this morning II was
service OF war time, on a battlefield.
held on a hillside, amid a litter OF
trenches and rifle shelters. Two bat
teries Of howitZers in the valley, 300
yards distant. doomed at intervals.
and our own Austro-Hungarian shells
screeched high over the improvised
altar and went their ways TO kill,
while we were praying that we our
selves might pass through the war I'M
scathed
Imagine group OF hills and valleys
covering an area as large as the city
or Chicago; you stand on the safe
side OF the hill nearest the Russian
lines, and you have the scene of the
service. You're near the top of the
hill, and you have orders not to show
your head above the rim. for the
slightest movement there might give
the Russian lookouts the range From
your hillside you look to the other
hills; across them come files of sol
diers in grey, narrow lines, moving
over the slopes like gigantic. grey
worms.
This is to be service for the Tyro-
lean sharpshooters, the Eighty-eighth
Austro- Hungarian regiment. These
men, who are marching through the
cold, grey morning are straight from
the trenches, where they have lain for
three weeks. The black earth Is ON
their clothes, hands, faces. The hill
is steep, and 1t Is necessary for them
to raise their faces In order to fasten
their eyes on the altar.
The altar is a simple affair. II Is
only a small lean-to. made OF fresh
pine boards. There is Christ
massy" air about 1t. for II is decorat-
ed with pine boughs. amid which can
dies flicker with pale, ghostly eff
feet In the daylight.
The priest Is here, waiting. He Is
short man with a beard, kindly
eyed and ruddy-faced-a pilot OF men
who at any moment may take the
short, quick journey into eternity. Big
boots and heavy overcoat appear un-
der his white and gold vestments. He
remains bareheaded and the raw wind
moves the hair on his face and head.
A soldier comes along near the brow
of the hill, stringing wire on the
ground behind him. He lays small
box and telephone receiver. on the
ground near the altar. Gen. Schon-
berg. the brigade commander, Is COM
ing to church this morning, and he
must be in touch with headquarters
every moment.
More lines of men pass through the
valley and climb the hill. They range
themselves behind the first-comers.
From another part OF the slope
a huge, tall man, accompanied by
neatly-dressed officers, appears and
shakes hands with the priest The
big man Is Gen Schonberg.
BY this time over a thousand men
are grouped mid-hill, a hundred feet
below the altar. They are given at
easel" and stand as much so as pos
sible with so pounds of pack on their
back. The priest turns to his lean-to.
faces the rude altar and kneels. The
mass for soldiers, the living and the
dead, Is begun. At various junctures
where the service requires that the
worshipers kneel and cross them
selves, the soldiers raise their hands
| to their caps In salute, Their gen.
eral kneels humbly on the earth and
crosses himself with heavily gloved
hand
Then the priest talks to the sol
diers. His text is, Letters from
home" He calls the soldiers my
war companions" He says:
IT know how much Il means to all
Of you to get letter from home. 1t
Is the letter from home that encour-
ages us most. But have for you all
this morning letter from home
from heaven, our last and best home.
This letter tells us that when we get
there a welcome will be awaiting such
as we have never known before: such
as even those we love back in the Ty-
rol mountains could not give u.s. In
these times of health, we cannot tell
who will be dead and who will be
alive tomorrow. pray you all be
ready and worthy for the welcome
that heaven will give U.s."
The battery at the foot OF the hill
.booms out Ave times, the shots com
ing In quick succession. A bell
tinkles as the priest turns to the al
tar,
The general steps forth before the
altar. Gen. Schonberg is eloquent In
a rough, soldierly way. The Tyro-
leans have their; homes in the Alps