The weekly Alaska citizen., 1918-02-18


 fare as 1t strikes the German troops is described by the Cologne Gazette in story of the fighting around Fontaine Notre Dame during the Cambrai offensive. The writer de clared that many of the German private soldiers look upon the Tanks with feeling of terror. He says:
 "The village is still suffering under shell fire; houses and men are min gled in the same ruin; whole roofs have been lifted through the air like feathers; but for the moment the storm has gone beyond the unhappy place.
 From cellar in the main street a Silesian rifleman looks out. He sniffs at first for fear of gas, then he stuffs his mask in his pocket and looks around. Heavens, what a street.! Gradually the riflemen creep like mice after a hailstorm out of their cellars. Is Tommy Atkins com ing back? That is the question, for the battalion has orders to hold the village at all costs.
 But suppose Tommy comes back with his Tanks? The word passes from lip to lip. It has sinister sound, as when one in a cloister mentions the devil by name. In the big thrust the English used 300 Tanks. some said 500. The monsters were said to spit flame. so that no one could approach them. and to crawl over every obstacle. A Sile. sian rifleman who stood in their way would be crushed like a worm under a steam roller. What could a poor soldier do but scuttle out of the way? It was true the Herr Lieutenant said that steel bullets would go through the armor of the Tank. and that we had only to hurl bombs at it and the Tank would stop and catch fire. But suppose it did not stop?
 'In the meantime the infantry bat tie famed up along the line. One oi the riflemen at the barricade climbed up on a damaged roof and peered into the distance. Over Bourbon wood towards the canal lay sea of smoke in which the flash of shells could be seen. There were the Ger. man reserves swarming forward in light firing lines under the fire of the guns. An English airman flew down to a height of about 200 yards and dropped fireball after fireball so that the English artillery could get their mark. He was a bold fellow. Hurrah! The German battleplanes swooped down like hawks on a dove. The Silesians would have clapped their hands for joy but they were holding bombs ready to fire.
 Suddenly there was cry, The Tanks are coming!" But where Where? There, on the hill. don't you see?' It was quite true. There was white trail of smoke on the slope of Bourbon hill, and. just as the dark outline of a ship emerges from a fog at sea. here and there a dark crawling monster was visible.
 Then indeed even the most hard ened veterans were anxious. Good Heavens! These are monsters! Everyone looked down the street. The Tanks would have to come down it if they wished to get through the village. At the barricade a signal arm went up. Nobody spoke. Everyone held their breath. Tanks in front. They are coming straight toward us,' was the next message. Their number was feverishly count ed. Six fustered one soldier: eight. nine. twelve.' stammered another with fixed eyes. Look. there are more, still; they have overrun our forYard position
 "The Silesians ducked their heads. for German shells were firing straight over their heads. Hurrah! One was