Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1917-07-11
Harvest of Death
Gathers in BOcheS

Have you ever walked through a field Of
daisies and clipped their petaled heads with
the swish Of a cane? pray not. since
meadow flowers should be left to wither and
die upon their native stalk But II you will
imagine the slmie, or better still. the ad-
rancing hordes Of Boches, full Ave battalions
Of 500 each, crumpling up under fi-e as
would piece Of tissue paper in a flame. you
will see what passed before my eyes. I saw
men fall backwards and those behind step
upon them as they advanced saw men
place hand to head and sink to knee. |
saw others fall to the front and to the side.
And ! saw stll others fly into vertable
pieces under barrage as would piece OF
hard cracker should you hit II a smart
blow with hammer.
CORRESPONDENT HIT
As l looked from n trench OF France a
bullet hit my helmet l felt its ting and
then forgot It. While beside me each side
and all along tho line, the fore1nger OF a
poilu was working the trigger OF a mitrail-
leuse as fast as he could crook II. II was
crickity-crack, and crack--crack--crack,
with the constant roar OF trench mortar
added Those 1000 Boches left fully two
thirds OF their number upon the torn soil OF
France OF the others, 700 who, because IL
was written had passed through cease
less fire without harm, threw down their
rifles and uplifted arms as they cried
"Kamerade." Forty of these were officers
two Of whom were majors. The rest. be-
cause II was written also, reganed their bit
of that Hindenburg line.
The French loss was relatively light in
comparison And the spirit Of It's blue-clad
fighting men was eXempliied in this in
stance Four feet from where l stood with
in the trench a pollu at a mitrailleuse re-
ceived his call from the Reaper. He had
taken a Boche bullet directly through the
heart and another In the face at the same
instant But his gun did not cease firing
ten Seconds For his neighbor who was
pulling the trigger with his right hand
reached over and handled his mates sun
with his left, and banged away with both
triggers as the feeders paid in the cart
ridges. The dead man lay between picked
him up as he lay doubled in limp heap
and carried him to the rear Of the trench.
FIELD OF DEAD
The attack lasted forty-hve minutes. It
was as five seconds to me. And out there
in No Mans land lay more dead than
have ever looked won save before Arras.
They lay in al sorts OF positions in heaps
and singy, with rife and helmet and ac-
couterment about and upon them, while
the sun shone on, and the blue sky tender
blue, like forget-me-not, reigned over
head. The mitrailleuse and the mortars had
ceased, for there was nothing before in the
way of standing human barbarian target to
on. passing over our heads the deep boom
of the 2l0. the lesser Of the 100, the sharper
crack Of the 70, while the Boche batteries
from afar replied with less Intensity.
As the aumonier and the brancandier Of
France scaled the trench to succor the
wounded Boche, left by their own where
they had fallen. my escortng officer, who
had lost sight of me, touched my shoulder,
remarkng he had missed me and that l
should have stayed back at the 2OOO-yard
spot where he had placed me, since | might
have been hurt or taken prisoner had the
barbarian reached his objective, I answered
him with a smile. There may have been
something in that smile, for he put his arm
about my neck and drew me out of the
trench and to the rear. 1t was then
noticed blood upon my coat and my hand.
the blood of the dead soldier of France I
had laid aside under fire And in the car
a few minutes later / looked with mild
curiosity at the dent in the rim OF my
helmet The sun was sinking behind the
horizon, and with It we rode away in con-
tempt at the shell breaking about US with
the dark we were behind English lines.
ATTACK BY BRITISH
There from place assigned me, but little
exposed despite its elevation, ] saw for the
fifth time in this war an artillery duel at
night The bulldog tenacity of the English
is no falsely attributed thing. The teeth
of their magnificent artillery sink more
deeply daily into the despair or the Boone.
sat upon a camp stool and watched the
course OF she'll a constant rumble of thunder
until / o'clock in the morning. At no time
could the position of batteries be dscerned,
so well masked were they. At few min
utes past 1 o'clock Il decreased perceptibly
And as I was drinking a Gun of tea and
smoking a cigarette with my French and
English escorts, far of above the English
lines rows OF yellowlsh lights appeared.
But for the length of their illumination one
might compare them in intensity to heat
lightning. For perhaps five minutes they
outlined that which under the soft light Of
the moon had been concealed, silhouetted
ruins the ruins Of towns and villages, pieces
of Jagged wall and stumps of trees standing
among convulsed earth surfaces. Upon the
hill OF Saint Elol, the home Of ancient
monks, peaceful church stood out clear,
showing the battered tower and the bruised
walls
The lights signaled from English TO Eng
Iish, announcing a Iull to be followed by
the most furious bombardment of the night
be1ore the attack at dawn. Ana then the