It was a wonderful battle.  The Greeks, at the urgent request of the Servian General Staff, had detailed two divisions to help the Servians.  On the west bank of the Struma they pushed the 2d and 4th Divisions gently northward, while in the narrow Struma valley (it is little better than a gorge in most places) they had the 1st Division on the main road with the 5th behind it in reserve; on the right, perched on the summit of well-nigh inaccessible mountains, was the Greek 6th Division, with the 7th Division on its right, somewhat drawn back.

It came to the knowledge of Greek headquarters that the Bulgarians contemplated an attack upon Mehomia, a village six miles on the extreme right and rear of the 7th Division, only held by a small detachment of that Division; reenforcements were immediately dispatched to relieve the pressure, and the 6th Division was called upon to reenforce the positions of the 7th during the absence of the relief column, with the result that on the 25th of July the 6th Division only had some 6,000 men available.

Meanwhile, the Bulgarians had secretly transferred the 40,000 men of their 1st Division from facing the Servians at Kustendil to Djumaia; 20,000 of these were sent in a column to strike at the junction of the Greek and Servian armies, where they were held by the 3d and 10th Greek divisions after a bloody battle which lasted three days; 5,000 marched on Mehomia and were annihilated by the Greek 7th Division; the remaining 15,000 reenforced the troops facing the Greek 6th Division.  It was a most dramatic fight.  On the 25th of July the Greeks, unconscious of the Bulgarian reenforcements, pushed northward, and all day long their 1st, 5th, and 6th Divisions gradually drove the enemy in front of them.  The fighting was of the most desperate nature, and at one moment, the ammunition on both sides having given out, the troops pelted each other with fragments of rock.  At last, toward 5 P.M., the Greek 6th Division found the enemy in front of them retiring; they pushed onward fighting for every yard.  The men were dead-weary; they had slept for days upon bleak and waterless mountain summits—­frozen at night, they were grilled at noon, but they pushed ever onward.  At last, when victory seemed within their grasp, when their foe was seen to run, a general advance was ordered.  The men sprang forward with a last effort of physical endurance—­the Bulgars were running!  They gave chase.  Suddenly, in one solid wall, 15,000 entirely new Bulgarian troops of the 1st Division rose, as if from the ground, and delivered a counter-attack.  It was a crucial moment:  some 4,000 Greeks chasing a similar number of Bulgarians suddenly had to face 15,000 new troops.  The impact was terrible.  The Greek line broke up into fragments, around which the Bulgarians clustered and pecked like vultures at a feast.  For ten minutes it was anybody’s battle.  The remnants of each Greek company formed itself into a ring and defended itself as best it could.  These rings gradually grew smaller as bullet and bayonet claimed their victims; many of them were wiped out altogether, and when the battle was over it was possible to find the places where these companies had made their last stands, for there was not a single survivor—­the wounded were killed by the victors.