VICTORY OR DEATH.

Colonist, Volume LVII, Issue 13729, 18 March 1915, Page 2

VICTORY OR DEATH.

The following vivid passages are taken fre :n a letter written ,by a French soMier to his parents and published by the "Standard" in a message from its Paris correspondent:—

"'Sections by fours! Fix bayonets, charge! Vive la France!' The bugles shrill and the drums beat in frenzy.

The Marseillaise echoes over us—we are mad, and rush on heads down! The Germans meet us with fearful volley firing, making many gaps. 'Close up, my sons,' cries the commandant. The bugler just ahead of me is killed with a bullet in the forehead. I stumble over his body aud roll over on the ground, but pick myself up and regain my place in the- front. We are now hand to hand. A German whom I have up against a wall stands bravely enough and makes a thrust at me with his bayonet. A classical side-step—he stabs the air and I pin him. He utters a cry and falls. At this moment a German officer, with nothing but a revolver, throws himself upon me and has me in turn at bay. He fires twice, but as he is taller than I the bullets fly over my head. I pretend to give him the bayonet and nervously press my trigger, not knowing quite what lam doing. The ball takes him under the chin and he falls, saying, 'Mien Gott! Oh, liebe Mutter.'

"I quickly pull myself together, for the bugle is sounding the retreat. The Germans are advancing in force, with savage shouts. I rejoin my section, and we quickly cover the open ground whilst the Germans open their fire. The rally of the th sounds and brings us together at the same place whence we started. 'Victory or

death!' cries the general. We are called upon for the sacrifice and are ready. Forward again with the bayonet for the second charge. Most of my comrades are hit. The bullets are whistling past our ears, and there are at least ten mitrailleuses concentrated upon us. At this moment the Germans try a trick on us by sounding the | French retreat by their buglers. But they have not the proper style of i tongue, and it only doubles our fury. Our captain falls, groaning 'Avenge me!' We dislodge them, but have finally to fall back again. I cannot even touch one of them. These who are on the roofs pelt us with bricks, and throw down whole chimneys on our heads. They have placed mitrailleuses on.the tops of the houses. There is a moment when I find myself alone, creeping behind the walls, and I begin to run. My eyes are full of t tears, and I am in despair. An officer of the Alpine Chasseurs comes out of the village with me. He wears an impudent air with his Tarn o' Shanter cocked over his eye, revolver in one hand and sabre in the other. 'Follow me, young 'un,; he says, but at that moment I thought I was lost. "We have no time to get away, as we are being fired upon. We hide ourselves behind a threshing machine. The lieutenant talks to me about his1 young wife and baby, and I speak to ■ him of you. ... I feel a sharp pain m my neck and my kepi falls, j The bullet has struck the peak and shaved past through my hair, slightly ( burning me. The pain was the wrench of my chin-strap. We remain for j hours in this position watching carefully lest they should come to take us. At night we move and regain the French camp.

"The third charge is even more terrible than the two first—at one in the morning. All the flashes from the rifles and the yelling make up a lugubrious scene. We have to throw ourselves down at one time, so hot is the fire. It is enough to deafen one! We keep on shooting and crawling forward, exhausted as Aye are. Suddenly the commandant springs up and leads us on again with the bayonet. I see the flag just in front of me, and it gives me courage. We press on, and a terrific struggle begins in the houses. The Germans take shelter everywhere, but we soon have them out. On all sides the cries of the wounded: 'Help!' 'I am hurt,' 'Maman! water, water!' It is awful to hear, whilst the stretch-er-bearers pick up the men under fire. We chase the Boches, who are flying in a regular rout. They abandon everything, sacks of provisions, and stolen bottles of champagne, which we drink to their health. It is we who empty the bottles, and it is they to whom the wine gives legs to run!"