The Sentinel=record., 1915-01-16

one man boted across the open place,
then the other, until we were all over.
The bullets from the French helped
every one to lose no time
But now we had the protection of
the railroad embankment, and avail
ing ourselves of this we soon reached
the ruins of DiXmude Several streets
and especially the market place lie
within the fire zone of the enemy.
In this uncanny town dwells un-
speakable fear. Dixmude has been
shot up as no other place in the thea
ire of war. In the shellfurrowed
streets the mud is several feet deep
and there appears to be not a single
house which has not been hit by a
she'll But of this am not sure Dodg-
ing from one street corner to anoth-
err to avoid the bullets which seem to
have short of fountain head at the
end of each street you have no time
to make man, or close, observations.
At any rate the ruins from little hills
one has difficulty getting over
we finally came to the market
place. which is constantly swept by a
hail of bullets. In a rush we gained
the shelter of the walls OF the city
hall on the other side. To one side
OF this are the ruins Of ST. Nicholas,
recognizable as church today only
by two walls and a pillar which rear
into the sky like naked giants.
The town is empty and deserted.
But you become aware of a noiseless.
Iuncanny sort Of life in the house.
1t comes from the cellers where our
soldiers are in quarters.
we finally met the commandant Of
the place. He had been decorated
with the iron cross, first class, and
showed that he was glad to see new
faces in this place Of DISSOLUTION.
AS he explained the situation to
us. bullets hit the walls to the left and
right Of us. We counted forty-five in
one minute on the wall of building
close by. Zealously, by day and night
this waste of ammunition goes on.
The only living creatures our men
found in Dixmude were dog and
three cats. Three times-four times
Dixmude has been the center of bat
tie. But now the large heap Of ruins
is i'm our possession, which we have
gained a point directly on the User
canal, which passes close to the last
houses of the town on the west.
But we extended to get into the
trenches-the firing line,
The road to this lay through a
trench approach whose wild and
bloody history is not likely to find an
equal even in this war. Off we GO
through shell-wrecked houses. tunnels
cellars. tables, upstairs through rooms
then down again, across a mario"
street exposed to the fire of the
enemy: through more houses and
rooms across yards, and finally into
a long subtererranean passage from
whose ceilings the water ran IN
streams.
an the distance we finally saw
light. very much as one does in com
ing to the end of a railroad tunnel
we were in the trench close to the
enemy
we are cautioned not to speak
But a scant 300 feet away from us Is
the trench Of the French. You could
see everything very plainly without
the aid of field glasses-among the
other objects number OF careless
French soldiers who moved about. As
we looked through the loopholes IN
the iron shields placed along the IRE
side of the trench, we saw an almost
uninterrupted succession OF flashes
from the French trench. But the fire
seemed to be directed more upon the
ruined houses than upon our field pos
itions. Now and then one OF the bul-
lets hit one of the shields, the ringing
metal reminding us of where we were
"A careful survey Of the country
without. through one OF the loopholes
brought some corpses into view. The
bodies we're wrapped in blue coats
and the heads were covered with
black hair. our men would have
gladly buried the fallen enemies, but
it was impossible to leave the trench
les. one has but TO show the point
of the helmet or attempt to stretch
the cramped and stiff limbs to draw
hail OF iron
"A yellow mud floated about in the
trench and ran down the sides. And
In this our soldiers stand day and
night They are heroes. 80 doubt