ON AN OLD BATTLE GROUND
In a certain section of the country one could see from a prominent hill
across some cities and onward to the edge of the German lines. The
region has been much fought over and in fact is an old battle ground.
One terribly drizzly day it became necessary to go over to a nearby
village to evacuate a hospital. Wild tales had come in about the
"strafing" which the town was being subjected to and we were immediately
ordered to hurry to the spot. It was said that the Germans were shelling
the place with "H. E.'s" from a distance of about twenty miles, with
shells of fifteen and seventeen inch caliber. If there is anything which
will put the fear of God in a man it is the explosion of one of those
"big fellows."
From the frightened faces of the men who had just come from there, I
think the whole town had suddenly become a God-fearing people--since six
o'clock that morning. They told us that hundreds of people had been
killed and that many buildings were in flames. Well, we went to our car
and tried to start it but it would not crank. We tried everything we
could think of but it was of no use. The chilly night evidently had
cooled the engine too much. We heated a kettle of water and fed it into
the radiator and poured it over the carburetor. This helped some, for
she sputtered a little but the engine did not take enough gas to turn
over. Finally after I had taken out all the spark plugs and given them a
good cleaning with gasoline, I cranked up and she started off with a
bang.
All this time the men who had come in from the burning village had been
urging us to hurry. Their impatience added so much to our nervousness
that it made us almost angry. Any man who has motor trouble will
appreciate it. At last we started the ambulance. Just as we were going
out the gate--whish! We picked up a tack and our rear tire was flat! It
took me about eight minutes to take off that tire and put a new one on,
but it seemed like hours. The men who had been telling us how to do it
now climbed into the back of the car and went along with us. We had been
on the road only a few minutes when we met a man coming down the road
pulling behind him a two-wheeled cart. He raised his hands as a signal
to stop. We did. Then, with tears streaming down his face, he began to
talk to us, pointing to the cart which was covered with old rag carpet.
At last he lifted the carpet and showed us the lifeless body of a woman,
of his wife! The body was horribly mutilated, the head and right arm
were entirely gone and the left hand was blown to shreds. As the poor
man looked at the corpse he became fairly frantic, screaming and
moaning. We tried to say some words of sympathy but the only answer he
could give us was, _O, ma femme! ma femme!_ We climbed out of the car
and while we stood there an old man and a little girl came trudging
up--the daughter and father of the woman. They, too, began to cry.
Suddenly the old man reeled and fell to the ground. When we picked him
up he was dead. He had died of a broken heart. We lifted his body into
the cart beside that of his daughter. I never felt so heartless in my
life as I did when we left that man and little girl to stumble on with
their burden of sorrow.
When we reached the village, the situation confirmed all the rumors. The
shelling had stopped, but the burning of the buildings was almost as
bad. We drove down the street to the public square and just then over on
the opposite corner a large caliber shell came crashing in, striking a
school building, exploding and producing a fearful effect. Twelve
children were killed and the entire schoolhouse destroyed. The force of
these large projectiles is almost inconceivable. Very often a single one
will completely annihilate an entire building, reducing it to a pile of
bricks, dust and kindling wood. I have seen one of them practically
demolish two houses separated by several feet.
Well, at last we got to the hospital. Shells had burst around it but
none had struck it as yet, and the few people who were there were badly
frightened. We carried a load of wounded back to the base and with the
help of the other ambulances after several hours we evacuated the
hospital. Before the work was finished, however, the Germans had shelled
the road and it became a difficult matter to pick our way along and
dodge the craters. A shell burst just in front of one of the cars and
covered the driver with fine pieces of stone and dust.
As evening drew on the great volcano-like explosions from the guns in
the distance lighted up the sky and made an inspiring and awful
spectacle. As the guns belched forth their messages of death one might
have thought he was in the midst of a hundred powder factories which
were exploding periodically. There was something fascinating about it
all, yet frightful, but as I reflected on the capacity for ruin and
death which those engines of war possessed, I thought I would prefer to
be farther away. The firing ceased as night came on and the atmosphere
cleared up. A wonderful red moon rose in the heavens above those awful
scenes and for some brief hours brought a feeling of peace and calm.