The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1915-06-17
ny ALAN SEEGER.
special Correspondent of The sun
with the Foreign Legion.

SVe'tUs VTFepVVuVeb w wv "
with III Foreign Legion.
Ar THE FRENCH FRONT. May "a
Night OF violen attacks. All yesterday
We listened TO the hum of aeroplanes
overhead and watched them cruising
about mid their little satellites OF
shrapnel puffs as the vertical bat
teries bombarded them. About an
hour after nightfall the firing began
on a sector a few miles to our right.
at first the abrupt fusillade, the.
the rumble of g%renades. then the cannon
entered into the medley, and the rattle
OF rife and machine gun was completely
drowned in the steady thunder of high
explosives. At regular intervals a ter
rife explosion AS a heavy piece bonn
barded u village behind our lines TO EN-
barrass reenforcements coming up.
From our outpost on the hillside we
lad "A fine view of q magnificent
spectacle. The German fusees kept shoot
ing up like the flower pots" to which
we are used OF. the Fourth Of July. The
French Are rockets, mounting twice as
high, let out their ball of vivid light
that hoated on the wind Il minute or so
over the battlefield. Beside the white
glare OF the fireworks the explosions
of shell and bomb are momentary PIN
heads OF red. a while and the lights
become lurid and blurred in layers OF
smoke. The big guns far from the main
scene OF action begin to take up the
chorus, firing on the flashes. Our own
heavy batteries several kilometers back
begin TO thunder and we listen TO the
projectiles whistling overhead among
the stars.
Went GU. on guard this morning at
dawn, An angle OF buttercup field n
forest. One would never have thought
that IL could be so beautiful, this world
OF green and blue that suddenly. almost
without perceptible graduation. has sue
ceeded the world of black and gray
which has made winter so dlscouraging
here, the air sweet with eNhalstions
from the heavy. dew drenched grass.
From the forest the sweet call of cuckoos
md wood pigeons. May morning. rustic
% leaves, sunshine. tranquility.
Careless After Week of Rest.
To-day was the sixth n last at
second line ietit poste. Fine weather.
warm and cunny. Some Of the men,
careless afte~ "A week without lombard
ment. We're up on top of the turf covered
bombproof playing cards. suddenly the
distant boom of a auuon and then.
falf a second later-whanG' \ shrdp-
Tel had burst twenty yards away In the
branches Of the grove hat screened us
from the enemy.
The sudden stampede into the dug
out, then a heart reniing cry. and the
frantic voices: pick UP, pick up
Two men go out, Drawing the momen-
tary recurrence Of the danger with that
unassum!ug courage which IL a matter
of course in the trenches. They bring
In the POOR comrade. cruelty. MORALLY
wounded. Another. less badly. has Aad
his shoulder torn. We wait TIL the
next shell bursts Immediately overhea I
with a d%eaftuing crash. y man has
been waiting Toy r.. crouching in the
doorway like a Splinter waiting for the
signal. by the tim" the Third shell
comes he Is far away In his race FOR
the litter hearers half a mile back.
Gut! they arrive We who are not nee
essary to tend the wounded II; with
dowucast eyes and shaken nerves. try
ing not to look or listen. while six
other shells in regular succession burs;
outside, the fragments patterlng on the
roof Of the dugout and the acr.d smell
Of the powder drifting inside.
This IL the most distressing thing
about the kind OF warfare we are m
against here. Never a sight Of the