The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1915-06-24
The Notebook of An Attache
SEVEN MONTHS IN THE WAR ZONE.

charged and strained that most CT the
art students forsook their work. Some
of those from other countries hurried
home; others threw themselves into the
midst of the rushing events. One of
these latter was Eric Fisher Wood. a
young American who was studying
architecture at the Beaux Arts.
Volunteering for service at the
American Embassy, Mr.. Wood was
placed in charge of the Germans and
Austro Hungarians interned in France
He served in the American Ambulance
Corps and was sent out with two Ameri-
can army officers to inspect the field of
the battle of the Marine the day after
the conflict to gather material for re-
port to our Government. He spent
several days amoug the allied troops
along the Aisne, visiting the trenches
and the field hospitals, examining the
fields of action and the DESTROYED vii
lagos.
DISPATCH BEARER.
Subsequently as an official dispatch
bearer in the American service. the
author was sent to Berlin,i Vienna,
Brussels, Berne, London, Budapest
and other cities. He had thrilling
experiences with detectives and secret
service men, met a great many high
officials, diplomats and other important
personages in the various countries,
and visited at the magnificent country
estates of several OF the Hungarian
mobiles Gncluding that of Count
ApponyD who were grateful to him for
services he had rendered members of
their families in France.
For seven months he was in the
thick of tremendous events that whirled
him back and forth across Europe. In
March Mr.. Wood returned to America
with an extraordinary store of freshly
observed facts of q nature quite diff
ferent from that offeredsby newspaper
correspondence.
At the request Of the War Depart
ment at Washington he spent five days
giving to three United States officers
from the War College information they
wished about the European fighting
and fighters. 1t is reported that as
result of his showing at Washington,
Mr.. Wood will shortly be sent back to
the scenes of the war to collect more
information. Having made his report
to the War Department, Mr.. Wood set
himself to write a look, which has Just
been issued by the Century Company.
1t is called The Notebook of an At
tache," with the subtitle, Seven
Months in the War Zone" 1t is COM
piled from notes and letters written on
the ground, and is illustrated with
photographs of people and places
figuring in it, and with some OF the
authors collection of battered pass
ports.
AN OLD YALE GRAD.
Eric Fisher Wood was born in New
York city, the son of DR.. William
Benjamin Wood, one of the famous
pioneers of preventive medicine. After
graduation from the Hackley School at
Tarrytown, N. Y, he went to Yale
Unable to decide whether scientific or
a literary course there would furnish
the better foundation for Architecture.
Mr.. Wood took both courses, and in
1910 left Yale with an A. B. and a Phi
B. in his pocket. The author spent
most of his vacations in practical work
in preference to tennis and other pretty
playing. One summer he worked in a
placer mine in Alaska. another in steel
mills, and third he spent roughing it
with party of surveyors.
After year or so in New York
architects offices, Mr.. Wood went to
Paris to try for admission to the BeauX
Arts, where he proposed continuing his
study of architecture. Out of 700 can
didates for admission only 81 passed the
examinations. Mr.. Wood stood fourth
on the list. He had only got well into
his studies when the war storm burst,
and the doors of the Beaux Arts were
closed. Below are quoted few in
teresting extracts from the book:
A MODERN BATTLE.
Seeing a modern battle demolishes
all ones preconceived ideas derived
from descriptions of previous wars.
One at least expects some sort of rapid
and exciting action. In reality, as we
stood in the very midst of the battle of
the Aisne, there was, in our immediate
neighborhood, only deadly silence. AT
intervals an angry rumbling would
break out somewhere in the distance,
but in the trenches close to our elbows
there was no sound or movement. No
birds, no beasts, no men were anywhere
to be seen. This uncanny silence would
continue for 20 or 80 interminale seconds
and then a shrapnt would burst close
by, with sharp, ugly. threatening
bang which had no echo: then all lapsed
into silence again. Each shrapnel only
made the subsequent silence more in
tense, just as the footsteps of a man
/ crnnchinly through the SNOW ernst of q