We had previously made great friends with a Siberian captain, and we found to our delight that he was living in a little hut close to our train.  He asked me one day if I would like to go up to the positions with him and take some Christmas presents round to the men.  Of course I was more than delighted, and as he was going up that night and I was not on duty, the general very kindly gave permission for me to go up too.  In the end Colonel S. and one of the Russian Sisters accompanied us as well.  The captain got a rough cart and horse to take us part of the way, and he and another man rode on horseback beside us.  We started off about ten o’clock, a very bright moonlight night—­so bright that we had to take off our brassards and anything that could have shown up white against the dark background of the woods.  We drove as far as the pine-woods in which the Russian positions were, and left the cart and horses in charge of a Cossack while we were away.  The general had intended that we should see the reserve trenches, but we had seen plenty of them before, and our captain meant that we should see all the fun that was going, so he took us right up to the front positions.  We went through the wood silently in single file, taking care that if possible not even a twig should crackle under our feet, till we came to the very front trenches at the edge of the wood.  We crouched down and watched for some time.  Everything was brilliantly illuminated by the moonlight, and we had to be very careful not to show ourselves.  A very fierce German attack was going on, and the bullets were pattering like hail on the trees all round us.  We could see nothing for some time but the smoke of the rifles.

The Germans were only about a hundred yards away from us at this time, and we could see the river Rawka glittering below in the moonlight.  What an absurd little river to have so much fighting about.  That night it looked as if we could easily wade across it.  The captain made a sign, and we crept with him along the edge of the wood, till we got to a Siberian officer’s dug-out.  At first we could not see anything, then we saw a hole between two bushes, and after slithering backwards down the hole, we got into a sort of cave that had been roofed in with poles and branches, and was absolutely invisible a few steps away.  It was fearfully hot and frowzy—­a little stove in the corner threw out a great heat, and the men all began to smoke, which made it worse.

We stayed a while talking, and then crawled along to visit one of the men’s dug-outs, a German bullet just missing us as we passed, and burying itself in a tree.  There were six men already in the dug-out, so we did not attempt to get in, but gave them tobacco and matches, for which they were very grateful.  These men had an “ikon” or sacred picture hanging up inside their cave; the Russian soldiers on active service carry a regimental ikon, and many carry them in their pockets too.  One man had his life saved by his ikon.  He showed it to us; the bullet had gone just between the Mother and the Child, and was embedded in the wood.