A WAR DRAMA.

Auckland Star, Volume XLVII, Issue 32, 7 February 1916, Page 11

A WAR DRAMA.

THE HUMAU SCSEEN.

f BELGIAN* SAVES CHILD.

M. Maurice Rouhier. in the '-Gairioi?."' telle a dramatic story - of the Flemish trenches of which a translation reccaitlv appeared in U>o •'Standard." It was between Dirmude and N'ieuport, in the last days of October, 101-4. The French Marine Fusiliers had pone to the rescue of the Belgians who, in their retreat from Antwerp were holding on to each hedge and ditch and contesting each inch of their native land with the fierce energy of"3ecpair. In many places the losses had been so heavy "thai, all tha-t wae left of a regiment or company ■vvaii a little knot of men who had kept j together under eelf-chosen leadership. It was such a knot of heroes that the F'Jsiliers found in one of the trenches they went to occupy, ami the leader, a simple-Looking, stoic Flemish peasant, begged as a favour to be allowed to remain in attendance on the French captain and continue to fight as before. He was a man of about of. taciturn and not given to much, speech or gesture, but always ready to do good work. Above all, he wae a dead shot, and the Bnanner in "which his rule never foiled to bring down his man was the admiration of the French. Whenever any Ger- j rcan officer or sniper came within ranjje i of ere it was invariably to the Beknan that the ca.pta.in applied to pay his account, and as soon as he had "drawn his bead™ on him the German wae a dead man. He muet have been a native of those parts, too, as he 6eemed to know every tree an-d bush and stream, and was invaluable for patrol or scoutin£ duties. The iJerman trenches were within about a mile, and one misty jiioming the look-outs reported signs of genera.! activity. The enemy was evidently about to make another attempt on tiie Tuser. Eefore long it could be dimly seen throuph the lifting log of the morning thai the (Jermans were moving for■ward in their usual solid formation, trusting to weight of numbers to break do-wn the defence. The Belgians, who were accustomed to these attacks, kept ■up a steady fire, aiming low and deliberately, but the French officer had great difficulty in restraining his men from charging with the bayonet. At his right hand the Belgiaji sharpshooter followed his instructions, only stopping between each shot to take a pull at his. pipe or to try to see the effect of his fire on tie advancing enemy. As the Germans drew nearer, though, a gTow! of rage shook the trench, for when it •was possible to distinguish the outlines it was seen that the front line of the attack was a pitiful staggering crowd of men. women arjd children being driven on with blows and pricks from the bayonets of the invaders, on whose faces could be discerned sneers and grine of triumph, as the firing from the trench suddenly ceased. Tho men were half mad "with fury and half stunned with horror, and many with tears to he allowed to charge, for nobody dared to fire. Next to the captain, the Brl_rian sharpshooter looked as if turned to itone, .■with his eyes, fjjXgd.-in d terrified stare on the horrible sight and his ringers playing mechanically wi'fh his tri~?cr. The Germans were now within 100 yards, and every iace, feature and expression-of their victims was plainly visible. And &>e2rind them the savagely-exultant smiles and laughter of the Germans. The captain was in one of those awful dilemmas that war must sometimes contrive for responsible commanders. To send out his Fasiliers w-as to condemn them to annihilation against the overwhelming odde, and in the fearful hand-to-hand fight that would ensure the civilians would be the first sacrificed. His resolution was taken in a flash, and he explained that he -would shout to the villagers to throw themselves down on the ground, and at the same time both French and Belgians would open and keep up the hottest fire they could. Turning to the crack shot, he said, "You see that officer leading, with a baby girl in his arms?" The Belgian, •with the same fixed stare, nodded, like a dead man might nod. The captain added, '"You must bria"; him down, for it b he who keeps the attack together." For an instant there came a look of panic and torture in the eyes of the Belgian. -"I know it is an atrocious thing I am asking you, bat it is our only chance, and you must bo brave, cool, and quick.' The GermaJis were closer now, and all the men in the trench could mark the email, fragile, flaxen-haired child, and in the tragic stillneee hear her cries of "Maman" as she was held in her white frock against the -uniform of the big German, a shield of innocent flesh, enough to save his breast from any French of Belgian bullet. Scarcely a eonnd but a sort of gasping sob could be heard as the sharpshooter threw up his rifle and took a long, deliberate aim over the edge of the parapet. As the shot rang out 'he drew himself up and out, with a face like a mask of terror and dread, to sec the figure of the German stretched out on the earth. After the fall of the leader the attack degenerated into a wild general volley on both sides over the prostrate forms of the civilian screen. But heedless of the hail of bullets, tho Belgian flew towards the body of his quarrr, and snatching ■up the child regained the French lines. There he retired into a corner, and seemed oblivious of the battle, and all else.

But once more the German assault had failed, and when it was ovpr, and each man tad reoccupied his place' in the trench, all looked in silence wt their Belgian comrade, who was fondling the gi-rl he had saved from apparently certain death.

Tie captain at last ivent up to congratulate him, arrd said, "You seem to know the little thing?" With a fierce yet tender jrlance, the Belgian replied, "It is my little daughter Marie."