Слике страница
PDF
ePub
[graphic][merged small]

This photograph conveys a vivid idea of the kind of ground in France over which tanks operate and of the difficult positions in which they sometimes find themselves

(British official photo from Underwood & Underwood)

[graphic][merged small]

The morasses amid which the British offensive in Flanders has been conducted cause many of the greatest difficulties in transportation. This car, suitably camouflaged, has sunk so deep that horses are required to haul it out

(British official photo from Underwood & Underwood)

same point, by promising not to shoot, offering tobacco, &c.

Tobacco may be obtained from the company commander.

9. Each day at 20 o'clock (8 P. M.) the company commanders are obliged to report directly to the head of the bureau of information about the day's events relating to the propaganda. The reports must contain the following information:

(a) When and where newspapers were thrown into trenches or transmitted;

(b) Whether the newspapers were accepted by the enemy;

(c) Whether attempts were made to enter into communication with the enemy; who came from the enemy's side, (soldiers, Sergeants, officers;) with what regiment (judging by objective signs, not by inquiries) .negotiations were begun;

(d) Other observations regarding the behavior of the enemy.

At the same time the interpreters attached to the communication posts must send to the head of the bureau of information the contents, word for word, of the conversations which took place during the previous twentyfour hours.

The place and hour of meetings fixed for the next day must be immediately communicated to the head of the bureau of information over the telephone.

10. The enemy sections in which the propaganda is conducted must be shielded from our

[blocks in formation]

Soldiers carrying newspapers and letters must be informed about the conventional (destined to deceive the enemy) disposition of our troops, (I, a, No. 261.)

For the protection of these soldiers special protective detachments must always be organized in our trenches, utmost care being taken that they should not be noticed by the enemy. These detachments must only fire at the order of the Captains who command the communication posts.

12. On the 12th of the month the 62d Army Brigade must submit the names of the company commanders recommended for the position of head of communication post.

J. V. D. B. D. K.

The Chief of the Division, (on leave of absence,) per KREINBERG, (Signature,) General Major and Chief of the 62d Brigade. Read by RUNK, (Signature,) Chief of the Company.

Fraternizing Under the Armistice

A German Description

The following description of conditions along the Russo-German front during the armistice that preceded the resumption of the invasion of Russia by the Germans on Feb. 18, 1918, was written by Wilhelm Hegeler, correspondent of the Deutsche Tageszeitung:

WE

E advance further over a snowcovered meadow. Here and there along the roadside stand bits of camouflage made of trees set in the ground. The storm has torn them loose and blown the snow from their dead branches. Here they stand in heaps, there they have wearily sunk to earth. At slight intervals pieces of fir branches woven together are hung above the road. These, too, are torn and tattered. And both of them, the masks along the road and those above it, seem like the damaged scenery of a play that has been eliminated from the repertory.

"We did not dare show ourselves here a couple of weeks ago," said the Cap

tain. "The Russians had too able observers and all the camouflage was of no avail, and the artillery fired upon every single man. Right there where the road branches off I had a bad experience. I was going along unsuspectingly when all at once bullets from machine guns began to fall like a shower. Luckily I had good horses, so the sport lasted only a few minutes. And today we go along here as unmolested as in the Grünewald in Berlin."

We get out and I walk through the trenches. At the first glance there is no change. The ground is well swept and the slight traces of snow are tramped down by countless soldier boots.

Smoke curls from all the bombproof shelters. A soldier stands in the kitchen soaking some dried codfish. Only one thing strikes my eye: the trenches are empty. And the first sentry that I encounter is not standing at the observation post, but is sitting comfortably on the breastworks, his rifle on his arm, his frost reddened face wreathed in approving smiles.

I want to share his amusement, so I get up on the breastworks and see that over on the Russian side of the barbed wire entanglements a regular battle is going on. It is waged with snowballs, but it is so strenuous that one might easily believe that our new friends had not yet had enough of war. Now two soldiers are wrestling, a tall fellow and a nimble little chap who charges his opponent like a billy goat, until the big fellow suddenly seizes him by the trousers leg and repeatedly ducks the wriggling figure in the snow. The sentry laughs and acts as if he would like to join the game.

I continue to wander along and wonder where the soldiers are hidden. Now I hear a marching song from the fields of snow. Two companies are coming in. Short pipes hang from under the frosty mustaches of the older men; the young fellows are singing. They have been drilling. It is all over with the sloppy life of active war.

I hunt up the shelter of the regiment's officer in charge of the truce negotiations. He is a young Lieutenant, a teacher in civil life, who has added a little Russian learned out of a grammar to the Polish which he already knew. He told me, however, that he hardly ever had to use it, as there were enough Russians over there who could speak German.

Two officers and several soldiers accompany us on our way to the rendezvous indicated by a white flag. The Lieutenant tells about his previous negotiations with the Russians. For several days they had been meeting almost daily at this or that place and discussing the possibility of peace. There had never been any disagreeable incidents among the German or the Russian infantrymen.

Just once a blustering Russian Major had made his appearance and forbidden these meetings in front of the wire entanglements. But other officers and soldiers had surrounded the Major and had begged the Lieutenant not to be disturbed.

We had scarcely reached the place indicated, which was near the ruins of the royal castle, the walls and watch towers of which consist of only a few scanty fragments since the last battles, when two Russian officers appeared. According to the latest regulation, their uniforms were in nowise different from those of the soldiers. The truce officer introduced us; we shook hands and it was no mere polite phrase when we assured each other that we were glad to make each other's acquaintance.

One of the two officers came from Riga, the other from the Caucasus. Strange to say, the latter spoke much better German than his comrade from Riga. I was anxious to see what sort of conversation it would be and if it would begin rapidly or haltingly. It took place in the most natural way in the world and concerned the very thing that had separated both sides in life and death, but that, now that it was over, as a common experience excluded any feeling of strangeness.

They talked about the last great attack by the Russians on July 23. Thanks to their superiority in force, they had succeeded in breaking through a narrow strip of our line and in penetrating as far as our first line of artillery before they were ejected by a counterattack. "You charged d-d fast that time," said one of the German Lieutenants. "Before the artillery was able to shift its barrage fire forward, you stood in front of our trenches. For the rest, your drum fire didn't do us any damage. We sat in the bombproofs and made music."

"Your artillery fire didn't do us much damage, either," replied the Russian. "The shots were well aimed enough, but the shells didn't do much in the swamp. Your machine guns, on the other hand, kept us pretty busy. *

**

The conversation halted for a while until the Lieutenant with the scar said:

"It's a funny thing, eh? Three months ago we were exchanging hand grenades and now we are exchanging cigarettes.

But, after all, we are merely like duelists after a round at arms. Why should we be ill-tempered?"

Poland Asserts Herself

A Vigorous Protest Against a Further Partition Is Effective

HE Polish Regency Council, which

THE

was set up by the German and Austro-Hungarian Governments, asserted its independence in a striking manner when it was announced that a portion of the Polish domain-the Kholm district had been ceded to the Ukrainian People's Republic in the peace treaty signed by the Ukrainian delegation and the Teutonic Powers on Feb. 9, 1918. When the cession became known there was great excitement throughout Poland. In many cities black flags were displayed, and there were angry manifestations of protest, The excitement became so intense that in several districts martial law was proclaimed. The indignation was shared by Polish, Czech, Slavic, and Socialist Deputies of the Austrian Reichsrat, who threatened to unite against voting any further budgets unless the treaty was changed.

The opposition became so threatening that the Austrian and German Foreign Ministers modified the objectionable clauses of the treaty. A supplementary declaration, which was given an obscure interpretation in the Reichstag and Reichsrat simultaneously by the German and Austrian Foreign Ministers, respectively, provides that the region is not to be ceded forthwith to the Ukraine, but that its future is to be determined later by a mixed commission of Poles and Ukrainians, empowered to draw the frontier to the east of the line named in the treaty. The passage in the supplementary treaty relating to this point reads:

For the purpose of avoiding all misunderstandings in the interpretation of Clause 2 of Article 2 of the peace treaty concluded at Brest-Litovsk on Feb. 9, 1918, between Germany, Austria-Hungary, Bulgaria, and Turkey on the one part and the Ukraine People's Republic on the other, it is hereby declared that the

mixed commission provided for in Paragraph 2 of this article of the treaty shall, in fixing the frontier, not be bound to draw the frontier line through the places of Bielgoraj, Szczebrzeszyn, Krasnostaw, Puchaczow, Radzyn, Mezyrecze, and Sarnaki, but shall have the right on the ground of Article 2, Clause 2, of this peace treaty to draw the frontier which may result from ethnographical conditions and from the desires of the local population east of the line named.

The supplementary treaty thus altering the destiny of the Polish region of Kholm was signed on Feb. 18 by representatives of the Ukrainian Rada and the Austro-Hungarian Government. The Austrian Premier, Dr. von Seydler, in announcing the fact the next day before the Austrian Reichsrat, stated that the mixed commission to determine the new boundary would be "composed of representatives of the contracting parties and representatives of Poland," each sending an equal number of delegates to the commission. He added: "No other solution of the Kholm question-the subject of national dispute—was possible without upsetting the prospects of peace."

The compromise saved the Austrian Government from defeat of the budget, but the excitement which swept over Poland did not subside. The act of the Austrian Government in permitting the protest of the Polish Club and the Polish Regency Council to be published and circulated was bitterly criticised and hotly condemned by influential German newspapers and prominent members of the German Junker party.

These two manifestoes are of historic interest, making a new phase of Poland's progress toward real independence.

The manifesto of the Regency was signed by the three members of the council, Prince Lubomirski, Archbishop Kakowski, and Count Ostrowski. Prince Lubomirski is a Conservative, hitherto

« ПретходнаНастави »