"We were creeping across the snow, when we hear a frightened '_Wer
kommt da?_'
"'Hold on, Germans! Where the devil do they come from?' ask our men in
surprise. 'Are they numerous?'
"'_Wer ist da?_' we hear again.
"Our only reply is to fire by the squad, and then again. The Germans
are a little surprised, but pull themselves together and return the
fire. It is dark and neither side can see the other. In groping about,
we finally meet, and it is give and take with the bayonet. We strike
in silence, but bullets are falling about us like rain. Nobody knows
who is firing and every one is crying in his own language, 'Don't fire!
Stop!' From the side where the firing comes from, beyond and to the
right, they are yelling at us, both in German and Russian, 'What's the
matter? Where are you?'
"Our men cry to the Germans, 'Surrender!'
"They answer: 'Throw down your arms. We have surrounded you and you are
all prisoners.'
"Wild with rage, we throw ourselves forward with the bayonet, pushing
the enemy back along the trenches. In their holes the Germans cry,
peering into the impenetrable darkness, 'Help! Don't fire! Bayonet
them!' Hundreds of shouts answer them, like a wave rolling in on us
from every hand.
"'Oh, little brothers, their force is numberless. We are surrounded on
three sides. Would it not be better to surrender?' cries some one with
a sob.
"'Crack him over the head! Pull out his tongue! Drive him to the
Germans with the bayonet!' are the growling comments this evokes.
"A command rings out, vibrating like a cord: 'Rear ranks, wheel, fire,
fire!'
"The crowd before us yells, moves, and seems to stop. But behind them
new ranks groan and approach. Anew the command is given, 'Fire, fire!'
"Cries and groans answer the fusillade and a hand-to-hand struggle
along the trenches ensues.
"German shouts are heard: 'Help! Here, this way! Fall on their backs!'
"But it is we who fall on their backs. We pry them out and clear the
trenches.
"In front of us all is quiet. On the right we hear the Germans
struggling, growling, repeating the commands of the officers:
'_Vorwärts! Vorwärts!_' But nobody fires and nobody attacks our
trenches. We fire in the general direction of the German voices,
infrequent shots far apart answer us. The commands of '_Vorwärts_' have
stopped. They are at the foot of the trenches, but they do not storm
them. 'After them with the bayonet,' our men cry, 'Finish them as we
finished the others.'
"'Halt, boys,' calls the sharp, vibrating voice of our commander. 'This
may be only another German trick. They don't come on; we are firing and
they do not answer. Shoot further and lower. Fire!'"