THE BATTLE OF THE MUD-MOUNTAIN

Dominion, Volume 8, Issue 2490, 17 June 1915, Page 9

THE BATTLE OF THE MUD-MOUNTAIN

FRENCH OFFICERS' LETTERS FROM THE MEUSE ("Daily Mail.") Paris, April 22. "Modern courage has increased tenfold with the perfection . of modern weapons of warfare." Tho admirable spirit and courago of the French soldior in the field, which form tlie best assurance of final victory, are well illustrated in the letters received from the front, and published in the newspapers. 1 Ono olticer of the French General Staff, writing from the position of Eparges, the storming of which forms one of the most magnificent pages in French military history, wonders at the courage which enabled the French soldiers to capture this "mud-mountain," bristling with rifles, with quick-firers, with bomb-throwers. "Napoleon's veterans in the worst hours of the retreat from Russia," he writes, "did not experience such trials." I append extracts from this interesting lotter, which appears in the "Bulletin des Armees," as well as from another let-' ter written by an officer on the French front in Alsace. Les Eparges. The privates offer us coffee. They are very pleased that we should como to visit them in their mud-holes, and tell them that the commander-in-chief is pleased with their work. They look worn-out. But they do not worry, and all of them have jokes to crack. The fact that the Germans have been driven from their, fortress and that at the very moment our advance company is making them run down the southern slopes of the hill faster than they climbed them is sufficient to make tnom endure the cold, the rain, and the fatigue without succumbing; it is the revivifying of a worn-out body by a sublime ideal. A What are they talking about? The fight—its hazards and its risks—forms the ordinary topic of conversation. Agricultural labourers, workmen, employees, and men from a higher rank in tho social scale —they all have the'same soul, the same thoughts, and the same aspirations. War has become for them the important thing, their objeot in life, their all. They know that they have accomplished a magnificent task in carrying the heights of Eparges, and they are quite ready to begin a similar task again. To realise the respect which-we should pay to these soldiers' valour it is necessary to retrace step by step the progress which they have made victoriously during the two months tlie operations lasted. Napoleon's veterans in the worst hours of the retreat from Ilussia did not experience such trials. .Modern courage has increased tenfold with the perfection of modern weapons of warfare. To carry the heights of Les Eparges under the fire of the Bin. guns, the land torpedoes, aud the quick-firers was the work of giants, and no war in the past can suggest the horrors of the undertaking. It is in tlioir conscience that our men find tho energy to accomplish such tasks and also in the example given them by their leaders. What their officers have done and what thoy are doing every day yon must ask their men. Eparges cost us dear in dead because the French officer, confident in his men, is proud to march before them. Our visit continued, always in the mud. "You would never have imagined there was so muoh," remarked to me with pride a younc man of the 1915 class. Mud is their kingdom. They owe to it some of their gaiety. Witness the story of "Moi Bocho." It happened last night. A patrol went out to rcconnoitro tlie enemy's lines and then they returned to their shelter to warm themselves, the men crouching one against the other. In the silence just broken, by the snoring of those already asleep a voioa oalled out, "Moi Boche." Nobody replied, but the voice insisted, "Moi Boche." The men thought it was a joko, and shouted out, "Keep quiet, will you I" Tho voice, however/again took up the ory, "Moi Boche." This time tho whole sholt-or rang with protests from tho men who wanted to go to sleep, and insults were hurled broadcast at the supposed joker. - The next morning ail unexpected guest was found in the shelter .whose cloak of mud made him resemblo the others. It was a "Boche," a deserter who had followod tho patrol during the night so as to get away from' potato bread, the revolvers of his officers, and the chains which fasten the gunners to their pieces, a real Bocho who had told the truth without being believed.' A bright sun shines on the plateau. For the first time for a week it does not rain. The German, counter-attack' has been a sorry failure and our artillery alone is thundering. _ . Over the parapet from time to time we oan see flying into the air sandbags, rifles, and once a German soldier. Our 75's are doing good work. ■ The mud-clad men look at each other with laughing eyes. The enemy has had enough, pis "porridge-pot" shells are rare. He is held. They have given him and are-giving him moro than he askod for. In Alsace. I am writing from a picturesque villago in Alsace, says the other officer, where my regiment is cantoned. We are one of tho bricks in the great "wall which must not'bo pierccd." In all our advance posts there is an order which recalls that we must "hold tho position at any cost and whatever may bo the losseß." Happily everybody does his duty simply aud bravely. We shelter ourselves as well as we can in a maze of trenchcs and galleries, where we live in the company of a swarm of frogs. In dry weather this cave life would be acceptable, but, unfortunately, we have had a week of bad weather, so that we are gradually sinking deeper and deeper into a crumbling morass. My baptism of fire came when taking an order from the colonel in a car ovor an exposed plateau swept by the fire of the German field-guns. Shells rained to the right and left of the road. It was a miracle we were not hit. The oar was riddled with shell splinters. I shall not easily forget tho wax-white face of the chauffeur as he clung to his steering-wheel, almost inoapable of direoting the car. Ho made quite an interesting collection of bits of steel and bullets afterwaidn. A detail which mil interest the student of Stendhal is that before the suddenness and brutality of tho danger tho brain retains all its lucidity, and soems even to work more quiokly than in normal moments. One can analyse one's feelings voiv well' and register with great oxactness the reactions of one's nervous system strained to a pitch. One has the impression of the presence of some mysteriois and evil force. Although one has heard the report of the cannon which precedes the explosion of the shell, one has the idea of some incomprehensible explosion in the air which'is suddenly on fire. One bends one's head expecting to have it shattered, and all one feels is a sudden contraction in the stomach as if. from a violent blow in boxing which has affected the whole nervous system. Tho sharpness and tho violence of tho explosions produced by modorn powders form one of tho most painful surprises of the war and one to which it is at least easy to become accustomed. The singing of the big shells whioh Beem >i journey so slowly thrciieh the sky is

on certain days almost harmonious, but their bursting in a volcano of smoke and earth always remains impressive. As I am only one hundred yards from a heavy battery, I am well placed to study the effects -of big-gun shells.