The Madison journal. (Tallulah, Madison Parish, La.) 1888-current, 1914-12-19
Wounded Respond to Cry of Raw.
ing Comrade.
Correspondent Pens Vivid Description
OF the Horrors of War-life In
the Trenches a Continuous
Nervous Tension.
BY GABRIEL pEIAoARpE.

correspondent of Chicago Daily News
Amiens, France.-There are four
OF us in the quiet garden smoking our
pipes. What Is it-a French attack,
or a German? Somewhere around
Chaulnes, 30 kilometers away, the
cannon are laundering furiously. A
sullen, uninterrupted growing passes
over Amiens. Now and then we can
distinguish the more powerful shots
OF the big guns, some of which we
saw passing through here. In any
case, things are warming up out there.
All day the battle will continue, and
we shall suffer the anguish of not
knowing what is happening. Are the
Germans piercing the French lines ?
Are the French piercing the German? /?
All around Amiens 1t has been thus
for month. The same villages have
been fought for, the same positions
taken and retaken. In some places
the unburied bodies of men and ami
mails are SO numerous that French
and Germans alike have withdrawn
from these shambles, which war has
made accursed and uninhabitable.
This is the case, for example, at
Roye, a little town of three to four
thousand inhabitants, of which the
official statements have spoken oftan.
To find and remove the dead one has
to search the cellars, go down into
wells and explore crumbling ruins of
masonry. A rough Partisan fireman,
brave veteran of many fires, told me
that he would rather risk his life
every day in a burning building than
pursue this new trade to which he
has been assigned. The men engaged
in it are unable to continue more than
two days at a time-no human being
could stand II longer.
But if it is hard for trained fire
men, imagine the sensations Of this
old rural notary public, calm and
peaceful, who went to visit the ruins
of his house in Albert, descended into
the cellar and there in the darkness
ran against a body which swung to
and fro. 1t had been there Is days.
He had to take 1t down and bury 1t
himself. 1t was the body of one of
the inhabitants who had l:lled him.
self during the bombardment, evident
ly from terror.
The number of suicides in the
northern provinces Is countless. The
newspapers may say nothing about
them, but the people know, and here
in the peaceful garden my COM
panions continue to converse of these
gruesome undercurrents of the war.
Such horrible details could never
have been imagined. 1t is not the
dead who suffer, but the living-the
men, for instance, who come back
from their stay In the trenches with
fevers and diseases. There ere sew.
eral here in the hospital who have
been delirious for days. Last night in
the long white room where the flames
of watchlights fiickered feebly a
wounded sergeant suddenly rose from
his cot.
"On guard! On guard" he cried.
Its warming up over there! Fix
bayonets, boys!"
Under the impulsion of the familiar
words Of command half delirious men
all over the room staggered to their
feet and rushed among the cots in
their nightshirts, stumblino and
shouting. The attendant who told
me this still vas visibly affected by
the scene. He had had the happy in
spiration to command:
Halt! Rest arms!"
And the mad brigade had obedi-