“gray phantoms” terror paralyzed them, and, on the narrow path in which they crowded, the German bullets brought them the order to halt!  There they are at the very entrance of their leafy hiding places, lying down moaning and asking for quarter, but whether their wounds are light or grievous, the brave fusiliers saved their country the expensive care which would have to be given to such a number of enemies.

Now the recital continues very ornate, very literary, and the writer relates how his Imperial Highness Prince Oscar of Prussia, being advised of the exploits (perhaps, indeed, other exploits than these) of the 154th and of the Regiment of Grenadiers, which forms the Brigade with the 154th, declared them both worthy of the name of “King’s Brigade,” and the recital closes with this phrase:  “When night came on, with a prayer of thankfulness on our lips we fell asleep to await the coming day.”  Then adding, by way of postscript, a little phrase “Heimkehr vom Kampf.”  He carries the notebook—­prose and verse together—­to his Lieutenant, who countersigns it:  “Certified as correct, De Niem, Lieutenant Commanding the Company,” and then he sends his paper to his town of Jauer, where he is quite confident that he will find some newspaper publisher to accept it, printers to set it up, and a whole population to enjoy it.  Now, let me ask any reader—­whatever be his country—­if he can imagine it possible for such a tale to be spread abroad in any paper in his language, in his native town, for the edification of his wife and his children.  In what other country than in Germany is such a thing conceivable?  Not in France, at all events.  Now, if my readers want another document to show how customary it is in the German Army to mutilate the wounded, well, I will borrow one from the notebook of Private Paul Gloede of the Ninth Battalion of Pioneers, Ninth Corps, (Figs. 17 and 18:)

Aug. 12, 1914, in Belgium.—­One can get an idea of the fury of our soldiers in seeing the destroyed villages.  Not one house left untouched.  Everything eatable is requisitioned by the unofficered soldiers.  Several heaps of men and women put to execution.  Young pigs are running about looking for their mothers.  Dogs chained, without food or drink.  And the houses about them on fire.  But the just anger of our soldiers is accompanied also by pure vandalism.  In the villages, already emptied of their inhabitants, the houses are set on fire.  I feel sorry for this population.  If they have made use of disloyal weapons, after all, they are only defending their own country.  The atrocities which these non-combatants are still committing are revenged after a savage fashion. Mutilations of the wounded are the order of the day.

This was written as early as the 12th of August—­the tenth day after the invasion of innocent Belgium—­and these wounded creatures that were tortured had done nothing more than defend their land against Germany—­their