I saw the German trenches as the French guns left them. They were
filled with dead, but with dead in such postures as the world has
never seen since the destroying angel passed above the Philistine camp
in that avenging night of Scripture. It was as though some blight
from Heaven had fallen upon them. There they stood in line, rifles to
shoulder, a silent company of ghosts in the grey light of dawn. It was
as if a deep and sudden sleep had overtaken them--only their eyes were
open. They might have been there from all eternity thus, their rifles
at rest: _Anonymous_.