Weekly journal-miner., 1918-08-07
AIR RAID ON CITY
 BEAUTIFUL
RED CROSS AND AMERI- CANS RENDER AID TO PEOPLE OF PARIS DUR ING TIME THAT THE HUN MACHINES ARE BUSY.
By Associated Press.

By Associated Press
 WASHINGTON, Aug. 3.-Writing . of a German air raid on Paris, one of the American Red Cross inspectors gives thrilling account of how American troops and Red Cross workers give aid to the city in such desperate moments. He describes an air raid in this fashion:
 Nowhere is there any sound but the echoes of footsteps. Not a street light is to be seen, not a single ray of hght-nothing but the inkiest and most impenetrable darkness. Then all of the noise Of the world seems to break loose. Clang-clang-clang booms the tocsin-like a gigantic pneuma- tic riveter working on collosal bell. Whooo-o shrieks the siren, running up and down the scale in an awful wall
 The streets come to life Doors open and slam shut The sidewalks are full of ghostly figures hurrying towards the caves, where the inhabi- tants have fitted up cots and beds They get up now to make sitting place for the new corners. The place fills up. Everyone looks apathetic, sleepy and bored. The children go to sleep with their heads on their moth CTS shoulders, and a girl in the uni form of a street car conductor swaps war yarns with poilu in dingy blue. In the last raid the front trucks of her. car were thrown from the rails by the displacement of air caused by an exploding torpedo The car and its inmates were unhurt. The poilu looks a mite incredulous and mur- murs. T can well believe you, Mademoiselle'
 Outside the noise continues for about three of four minutes and then subsidies as a new noise starts-the Archies, or anti-aircraft guns, which commence to bark furiously from half a dozen different points. Search lights rake the sky. The Archies continue their clamor, but they arc not firing at anything, merely keep ing up a barrage fire to prevent the Boche from flying over the city.
 Suddenly there is an earthrocking Whoom No more doubt as to where the Boches are. Whoom, Whoom, Whoom. One involuntarily ducks and tries turtlcwise to cover his head with his shoulders. A hideous noise resounds up and down the deserted street-falling walls, and the tinkling and crash of showers Of broken glass and roofing tiles.
 Through the glass and litter of the street an American Red Cross camoinettc comes ploughing its way. One of the city firemen stands on the running board. They stop and the fireman flashes an electric lamp into the rains. makes a nasty inspec- ton, and then runs up the street and dives into the redlight cave
 Anybody here from numbers 70 to 51: he calls. A half dozen voices yell out that there is.
 "Is everybody here from those numbers? Was there anyone left in either of those buildings?
 There is an anxious calling back and forth and a rapid counting of noses. All here is the answer!
 Good, Not much left of those two buildings Don't enter the ruins un- til they have been inspected by the engineering department. Go to the Sisters of the Poor if you want food or place to sleep.
 "A wall and several curses com pete. but the fireman is gone.
 "The Archics have stopped and there are no more whooms. but peo- ple stay in their cellars. It is only nine o'clock, and experience has shown that the industrious and methodical Bochcs will keep coming back again and again until after mid night
 "A half mile away bright red glow gets larger and larger and lights the sky. \ fire has broken out in the railroad yards and Is making great hcadway. Several cars of oil are burning fiercely and spreading to cars of merchandise. Half dotcn American soldiers are working fierce 1y trying to get the untouched cars away from the fire.
 Two of them got hold of a switch engine and are shunting out whole strings of cars.
 |" Do you know anything about these French engines. Sir" asks the impromptu engineer, I can't find the damn brake
 "The fire is eating its way towards a pier on which stands d line of drums of gasoline.
 Come on. boys, roll them kegs O gas outa here wells the corporal, and the line Of drums starts trundling down the pier It is internally hot, and the average man does not know just how hot gasoline can get before ii begin to misbehave: but the line never wavcrs.
 Roll 'cm along. boys, Keep 'em going Everybody has got to die sometime
 Little by little things become quietcr. The fires die down, the Archics stop. Here and there T working party still continues its lab orS in the ruins Someone is missing. ard they want to get him out of a cellar Now the tocsin sounds again, this time with slow. stately. measured beats This is the O NiI.. -To,-' ai-,a1 No more pnpr1v