_Retold by V. Ropshin, translated from the "Niva," Petrograd, for
"Current History"_
I shouted, "Forward!" jumped over the parapet, and ran forward over the
field of beetroot. I remembered that I was an officer, and must keep in
front of my men.
I heard no shots. At the German trench I felt a blow on my shoulder,
just as if some one had hit me with a riding whip. But I did not at
first realize that I was wounded. Without stopping, we leaped across
the trench. When we were across it I felt a sudden catching of the
breath, and everything went black before my eyes. On the right was a
deep funnel, the crater of a 12-inch shell. I jumped into the crater.
The funnel was wide, with crumbling edges, and with a sticky, clayey
bottom. I sat down on the damp earth and felt that my arm was very
sore. I struck a match and began to smoke.
Now I heard the thunder of guns; I distinguished the rattle of
howitzers and the whistle of bursting shells. I had a feeling of
depression. Involuntarily I closed my eyes.
I sat a whole hour unconscious in this way. When I came to myself I saw
a German in front of me, a German officer, in a gray-green cloak and
with a round cap of the same colour. The officer was standing straight
before me, and was looking me in the face. I tried to rise, but he said
in French:
"You are my prisoner! Sit down!" and he covered me with his revolver.