WAR NOTES.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVII, Issue 152, 23 November 1914, Page 6

WAR NOTES.

... NINETY-SEVEN WOUNDS. The most remarkable case of a French surgeon-major of the 28th Regiment of the Line who has begged to remain unnamed is worth recording. He is now sitting up in bed folding quite comfortable, and here is his story:— "Yon see I am still alive, and I have no longer that desire to die which at lirst beset me. But I've had a narrow escape. Just think of it, ninety-seven wounds, officially recorded ! I've got them all over me. I'm sewn up everywhere. It's a wonder I'm here. This is how it happened. I had been in action all day; there had-been some hard fighting, but fortunately tlie number of our wounded was small'. I had just finished attending to my last case, and was about to mount my horse, when it seemed to me as though a clap of thunder burst immediately over my hear, and T found inv:.elf in a circle 'of llame. A shell had just burst over me. My poor horse was killed on the spot, riddled with shrapnel. 1 was thrown violently on to my back, f was badly wounded' in both legs. A man of lay regiment picked me up and walk';! over two kilometres with me on hi; back. Then some others, forming a stretcher of their rifles, carried me yet anolhcr five kilomteres before we came u] en an ambulance. To describe what I snifei'id v:e> that journey would be impossible." On reaching the ambulance 1 lost consciousness. I was brought here, where for several days they removed pieces of shell from my shattered and torn flesh. "Luckily no vital organ has been touched, 'it's true I've lost an ear; I can hear no longer on my right side, and 'my head is all sewn up; my right arm is pierced through to the bone; my back has as many holes in it as a sponge; my ribs are all cut about, and my unfortunate legs are tattooed ill a manner which is far from artistic. But here I am; have you a cigarette! Thank you! After all, the German shells are not up to much!"— Daily Chronicle.

A COSSACK SCOUT. j This story is told bv a Cossack troop.earned I'oli.oMiikolV. He srpn.'al'e I'ro.n l-i. company in order to reconnoitre.! Accordi:ur to their practice, the An;- ! trians allowed the scout to advance-, so as to lure his followers on, and then onened lire. Polkovnikoff was thus cut off from his company. He made a. d"ijeraie d.i h to rejoin them, bill hi, h-r-e yes killed under him, and he was captured and taken away by the enemy. The ssine owning the Au-ilriniis entiling to eat and treated him in a very I'll 1 iradely wnv, beinj; anxious to make him talk confidentially to them. "Hew do you manage to unsaddle i'.ist ie front of the enemy's entrenchments, and attack them oil fool? Anno!, your horses a drag upon you':" The .pi. Hon was a.ked in Polish. Polkoviiikiii" volunteered to show them how it \>as done, and they lent him a fine horse, " " i,i!' io en oiiicer, to enable him to "ii ke en e-ihibition of his skill. He conscientiously ami artistically went through some vaulting exercises, and the Austria ns were so full of admiration thai they never suipected anything. Then, in order to put t'lie finishing touch to one of his feats, he went io the farthe,t possible distance ftom the assembled eoiiiiany, alid before they realised what was happening he had put spurs to the horse and was galloping madly away. They pui'.-uod him for anout a mile, -hov,cling bullets upon him, but he eseipel -alele to the Russian lines.—Daily Telegraph.'

I'iITV lIOTJI-bS OF.TRENCTI LIFE. A private of ill,' West Kent's writin" from tlii' front, gives a pen picture of life in tin' trenches in the neighbourhood of flic iiiver Aisre. it is one of ninny tliat have seen light in the Home Press.' ThoY all tell tin' same tali- of light-hearted soldiers anil kindly officers inakiii" tlir best of a bad job: "Wo liave been living Hie life of rabbits, I'ov we burrowed ourselves in treaebes at , anil here we remained for over lifty hours. It was an exciting and not unpleasant experience. The bursting of shells overhead wis Cnntiiiiious. and it beeanie monotonous. To the wningslor it was an awful experience in the earlier stupes, but even he became so accustomed to the roar over'h:ad that after a time he raised a cheer each time shrapnel anil shell spoke, making such remarks as: 'There's another rocket, John.' When we were not digging out recesses we sat down to spin yarns, play banker with cigarette cards, and discuss the prospects of our favorite football teams. ■

"We are a light-hearted lot, and so are our oilicers. We dug out for them a kind of subterranean messroom, where they took their meak A jollier and kinder lot of officer .11 would not meet in a day's marc ■•' ■ officer who J was well stocked wit'. :■.-.-. ttes divided them among his men, Iv • were able to repay him for his kindn-r 1 by digging him out'from his messroom. A number of shells tore up the turf, and the roof and sides collapsed like a house of cards, burying him and two others. They were in a nice pickle, but we got them out safe and sound. ''During the time we were in these, trenches nearly 500 shells burst over and around us, but our protection was so good that not a single, chap was killed and less than a dozen were wounded. When we got into the open air once more, we realised what we had been subjected to, for the ground was literally strewn with burst shells. If all goes well we are going to have a football match to-morrow, as I have selcctod a team from our lot to play the Borderers, who are always swanking what they can do."

AN OFFICER'S SACRIFICE. As may easily be imagined, life in the trenches, even when the weather is fine, is not all honey, and when Jupiter Pluvius is in tearful mood the occupants of these "shelters" must find life hardlyworth living. They may be fairly safe from German bullets and shells, but their trenches are. no protection from the rain, and, indeed, in heavy downpours, become neither more nor less than drains in which the men may bo up to their knees in water. Many" soldiers' letters contain allusions to the discomfort of trench life in wet weather, and expressions of longings to be "on the move again"— trench-storming or any warming work. Here is an extract from one such letter: "The. horrors of the nights spent in

the trenches in our soaking wet clothes will never leave me while life lasts. The 'pains go all through me. We minded that more than the German fire, but you must understand that this isn't a grouse (grumble). Soldiers know they have to put up with that Sort of thing in the war time, and our ollicers were no better oil'. There was an officers of the artillery who gave up his blanket to a poor devil who had the shivers something awful. The ollicer caught pneumonia and died a week later. "One night, when it was unusually wet and miserable and dreary, and some of us had got all the humps that were ever seen on a camel's back, the assembly sounded, and we were, paraded at midnight. We fell in, glad to have ■ something to take us away from our miserable surroundings. We. didn't know what the move was when we were inarched, out into the darkness, but we didn't care much so long as it was warming work." •

And it was "'warming work." for tie y were turned out of tic trenches to take part in storming the German trenches, it proved n very tough job. Three times the British wore repulsed with heavy hisses, but at the fourth attempt they cleared the whole line of treaehes ipl put ihe enemy to flight.

A LONG ROAD TO BERLIN. Sergeant Clay, a Toilmordeii member of the Scots Guards, in a letter home, says:—"We are not fighting men, but lie'nds, and she shall rid the world for ever of the power of this hellish, sneering despot. There will be battles in German that will make Mens, Marne, etc., appear insignificant. Germany, as you are aware, is very strongly fortified, and vou can bet they will contest the ground inch by inch,' and the road to Berlin is a long one. Victory will certainly crown the efforts of the Allies; but it will be 'no easy thing. Kngiaml needs all the men she can possibly get. It is the duty of every able-bodied man to be over her. It will lie a far better world when a few of these beasts are wined out of it. Ties more the merrier, and the sweeter the air."

NEAR VERDUN. M. Fernand Ducheue, formerly r. French ma .lor in FhH.-.nd, has b. or. wounded at' Verdun, where he was sere ing with a. French military regiment a-, a corpoi.il. lie giv, a graph'c story of j his experiences:--'On the morning of S -it.-nibcr ii, tiegeneral issued orders that we were to stand our ground at all costs' I'll thr last. We did it, but at what c.:-t! '[ inn Ruing to chare' the u!!e ;e whin a shell'folf behind in-, bur-t : •-,! K,t lain several places-three tinvi on tie head, twice on the leg, at the enkh snd. the thigh, anil or.ee in th- left leg at the ankle. 1 was left on the bati!--.field and crawled to a hut not far from where we. wore, and there I found nine others. We. were expose.! to a t-e'-iblo fire from the artillery, and .■vpect-d the hut to be blown to at any time. Towards the end of the 5,.,.„„ ] da-, we decided that two of in should volunteer to get some help, so I did, and another 'followed me. We were exactly betv.em the I'lv.'i ,and Gorman lines, so we started craviing on all fours. We had n ) sooner anpeared at the doors f-" i a, it ". ' > a'moonlight liglit-the gunners aw n , and commenced to pour n violent, lire at us. How we cseaned, I don't know. We just managed- to turn the corner, are! i were safe, but it took us seven hour:' to ! crawl oOflvds. When we reached the am- | balance in the French liics. I fold the j cure what T had done an I where my | comrades were, and T had the supreme ' reward of hearing him say. above tic I buzz. Ton have done, very well, my child.' i.T felt him kiss me on the forehead and | fainted awav. Three hours later, when i I regained 'consciousness, I had the I pice-'uro to know that niv comrades lull ben saved. Since then we have been nmoM'd to a kind of piovi ory hospital. where I am now, waiting to get better.