“The infantry advance with a rush towards the windmill, but we no sooner top the hill than the English machine guns begin to rattle.  Our front ranks are mown down.  Every attempt to advance fails.  The order was given to lie down and there we remained for four hours.  Then we rush one after the other through a hedge.  When darkness fell we had nearly reached the English trenches, but were recalled and spent the night in our trench.

“The next morning passed quietly, except for rifle-fire.  Captain von K. was hit, and rolled over in front of the trench.  Three comrades crept out one after the other to fetch him—­all three fell.  At last our wounded captain was still too—­killed by a second bullet.  Being compelled to watch this scene without power to help, was the beginning of our day.

“Just after mid-day the music began.  Crash! a shell lands in our trench on the right.  A short pause, and crash follows crash as the shells are dropped into our trench at distances of four yards.  Death walks slowly up the trench towards us.  We know that he is coming, we see him.  Everybody is lying flat on the ground.  We are waiting for ‘our’ shell.

“If we had a communication trench we could escape—­but there isn’t one.  We reckon the distance:  twenty-five yards away another direct hit.  Crash! only twenty yards.  Fifteen yards!  We have only five minutes to live.  Thoughts of God and home and parents rush through the mind; yet they are only numb feelings.  Crash! ten yards; one more and then comes ‘ours.’  But no, the next boom was in the trench behind, and in the same manner that trench was cleared from end to end.

“‘Lieutenant T. killed, Lieutenant K. takes command’ was passed along.  We have hardly left the trench when bullets begin to whistle round our heads.  Man after man remains behind.  At last night sinks and hides the horrors of the day.  I have lost my company and spend the night in the open with a few others.

“The next morning the sun shone brightly; the morning wind blows coldly over the furrows and over the dead.  I have no words to describe what I saw—­but my heart bled!  Near Paschendaal I found my company.  Altogether there are thirty of us—­out of two hundred and fifty.”

German war literature affords a complete picture of the transformation of German contempt for the British army into profound respect.  As witness the following: 

“It cannot be denied that the English have supported Joffre’s offensive with valour, strength and vigour.  The battles which have raged since the end of September on the front between Givenchy la Gobelle and Armentieres, have confirmed the deadly seriousness of the English.  And if they have not obtained great successes, still, in this gigantic grapple, they have displayed desperate courage which compels the admiration of their opponents.