Walker Lake bulletin. (Hawthorne, Nev.) 1883-1926, 1914-10-10
NO LONGER ROMANTIC
ALL Is SORDlD IN THE REAR OF
A FIGHTING ARMY.
How II Looked, Told by a Writer;
How 1t Felt, as Described by One
Who Had Been Through
IL All.


Soon we were near the battle. In
the east, across the vast level coun-
try, faint gray light appeared. The
noble alamo trees, towering thickly
in mussy lines along the bitches to the
west, burst into showers Of bird-songs
1t was getting warm, continued John
Reed, In the Metropolitan, and there
came the tranquil smell of earth and
grass and growing corn-a calm sum
mer dawn. Into this the noise of bat
tie broke like something insane. The
hysterical clatter of rifle fire, that
seemed to carry continuous under
tone of reaming-although when
you listened for 1t, 1t was gone; the
nervous, deadly stab-stab-sta of
the machine guns. like some gigantic
great bells, and the whistle of their
shells; boom-pi-i-i-e-e-a-uuu! An0
that most terrible of all sounds of
war, shrapnel exploding: Crash
whee-e-eaaa!
The shooting never ceased, but 1t
seemed to be subdued to its subordl-
nate place in a fantastic and disor-
dered world. Up the track in the hot
morning light staggered a river of
wounded men, shattered, bleeding,
bound up in rotting and bloody band
ages, inconceivably weary. They
passed us, and one even fell and lay
motionless near by in the husband
we didn't care. Soldiers with their
cartridges gone wandered aimlessly
out of the chaparral, dragging their
rifles, and plunged into the brush
again on the other side of the rail
road, black with powder, streaked
with sweat, their eyes vacantly on the
ground. The thin subtle dust rose in
lazy clouds at every footstep, and
hung there. parching throat and eyes.
A little company of horsemen logged
out of the thicket and drew up on the
track, looking toward town. One man
got down from the saddle and sQuatted
beside us.
1T was terrible" he said suddenly.
"Carramba! We went In there last
night on foot. They were inside the
water tank, with holes cut in the iron
for rifles. We had to walk up and
poke our guns through the holes, and
we killed them ala death trap! And
then the corral! They had two sets
of loopholes, one for the men kneeling
down and the other for the men stand
ing up. Three thousand rurales In there
land they had Ave machine guns to
sweep the road. And the roundhouse
with three rows of trenches outside
and subterranean passages so they
| could crawl under and shoot us in
the back. Our bombs wouldn {
work, and what could we do with
rifles? Madre de Dios! But we were
SO quick we took them by surprise.
We captured the roundhouse and the
thousands came = thousands = rein
| forcements from Torreon-and their
artillery-and they drove us back
again. They walked up to the water
tank and poked their rifles through
the holes and killed all of us-the
sons of devils!"
We could see the place as he spoke
and hear the hellish roar and shrek,
and yet no one moved, and there
wasn't sign of the shooting-not a
puff of smoke, except when shrap-
mel shell burst yelling down in the
first row of trees mile ahead and
vomited a puff of white. The crack.
ling tip of rifle fire and the staccato
machine guns and even the hammer
ing cannon didn't reveal themselves at
all. The first dusty plain, the trees
and chimneys of Gomez, and the stony
hill, lay quietly in the heat. From the
alamos off the right came the careless
song of birds. One had the impress
sion that his senses were lying. 1t
was an incredible dream, though
which the grotesque procession OF
wounded filtered like ghosts In the