ls Yourishich and Mishitch.

The next day, December 8, 1914, began with hard fighting around Uzitsha,
but the division here (the Uzitsha detachment), was not to be pressed
back on its very own home soil; the Austrian lines wavered, broke, then
scattered, the soldiers fleeing for the frontier. The First Army
continued triumphantly, as it had done the day before, advancing and
sweeping all in its way before it. It ended the day by storming and
entering Valievo.

The Austrians holding Valievo had carefully prepared for its defense,
for this town they were reluctant to give up. The approach by the main
road had been heavily intrenched and the guns were in position. But the
main force of the Serbians circled around in the hills and flanked the
position of the Austrians, taking them completely by surprise. They
broke and ran, and while the fugitives hurried off toward Loznitza and
Shabatz, a rear guard of Hungarians on the hills to the northwest put up
a rather indifferent fight before they, too, fled in mad disorder. The
last of them were caught by the Serbian artillery and, while running
over a stretch of rising ground, over a hundred were shot to pieces by
shrapnel. When the Serbians arrived the ground was literally covered
with mangled forms; here and there sat a few wounded.

The Third Army likewise shared in the general triumph. It reached the
Kolubara, at its junction with the Lyg. Throwing out one of its
divisions eastward, it threatened the right flank of the enemy on Cooka,
then permitted the Second Army to carry that position. By this movement
the Serbians succeeded in driving in a wedge and completely cut off the
three beaten and fleeing corps in the south from the two in the north,
which were still showing some disposition to hold their ground.

The operations in the west and northwest now resolved themselves into a
wild, scrambling foot race for the frontier. The worst of the fighting
was now over; indeed, the Austrians now fought only when cornered. Most
of them were by this time unarmed, thinking of nothing but how to reach
the frontier before the first of the pursuing Serbians.

Only a powerful literary pen could paint such a picture as was now
spread over the land of Serbia. Wounded warriors, now resolving
themselves into helpless, suffering farmers, simple tillers of the soil,
save for the tatters of their blue and gray uniforms which alone
indicated what they had been, lay by the roadsides and along mo