WEIRD WAR EXPERIENCE.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVII, Issue 253, 5 April 1915, Page 6

WEIRD WAR EXPERIENCE.

OEKK'KIPS .MAD TORCH DANCE,

ANOTHER HORROR,

I have seen mauv terrible and unior timaie things during Hie war (wri'-

a correspondent of the Bourse Gazette) Whole files of men have fallen under m\ i eves like ripe corn under the sickle. '] ; have heard th- hoofs of mv nor.-. splashing in huimti' bV.od afler hat Go- - blood which the earth couhl not drink up. lint, still, I find that the horror of war is not exhausted, that there is still | more of it, and this many-faced terror j brings with it daily something that sur- ' passes that which has gone before. >' The battle was in full swing when our sanitaary train crawled slowly up, as though it was feeling every yard of its way, to the small railway station Wiiieh stood intact, although shells' were falling near it in every direction. About a mile and a-half separated us ' from the battlefield, therefore the station house was crammed with wounded whom we had arranged to remove. We were compelled to hasten, as any moment a hig shell might strike the house and bury in its ruins our wounded soldiers. When the doctor and myself opened the door we found ourselves in a room in which there was not an inch unoccupied.

WILD AND WEIRD DANCE. The smell was terrible, and some time elapsed before we were able to get accustomed to it. An hour passed before, we succeeded in getting half the wounded men into the. railway cars, and darkness fell ere we had concluded our task.

The battle appeared to he abating, and we were about to start when my attention was called to the twinkling of a light in the window of the station house. There was a tiny point of fire, which alternately appeared and disappeared. Sometimes it appeared to glide slowly along the window-pane, and then it died out altogether. What could it be? IWe returned to the room which wag full of wounded a short time befoe and was now silent. We were on the point of returning to the train when we heard distinctly a metallic sound and an uneven rapping. On looking round we discovered n small door which we had not noticed in the confusion and darkness. It was locked, but we opened it and entered. Our eves met a strange sight. In the centre of the room which was slightly illuminated by the rising moon, a tall man was executing a~ wild and weird dance. In his right hand he held an electric torch, and jn its glimmering light we saw that the inmate of the room was dressed fh the uniform of a German cavalry officer. ITis chest was bare, his arms.were covered with blood, and his eyes glared like those of a lunatic. A rattling sound came from his spurs as he danced, and a hoarse sound came from his throat, which had been shot through. ' The man struggled in the arms of the sanitary men who seized him as he was writhing in his mad dance. Suddenly; his head dropped on his breast and his j eyes closed. i

The train sped along softly over the rails. We were far from the line of fire. The wounded had been bandaged and the lights were turned out. On one of the litters was lying this tall German, with his head thrown back, breathing regularly through a tube which had been inserted into the wound in his windpipe. When he could talk he told his sad story.

It appeared that he was recovering consciousness in the room with the lock, ed door (which someone had slammed behind him) when he heard our voices. He called to us in vain, and in his alarm knocked his Wd against the wall of the room. Still we had not heard him, and it was only wlien he began his wild dance in the light of the electric torch that we were able to locat'e him and remove him to hospital.