mbers of my own company, came upon a nail driven into the wall of
a barn from which hung, by the mouth, the lifeless form of a baby. The
child was dead when we found it, but it had died hanging from the rusty
nail. I know it had, because I saw upon the wall the marks of finger-nails
where the baby had clawed and scratched. And besides, a dead body would
not have bled. An officer ordered the removal of the child's body.

I do not tell these things for the sake of the horror of them. I would
rather not tell them. I have spent months trying to forget them. Now that
I have recalled them, I wake in the night so horrified that I cannot move.
But to relate them may serve one useful purpose. There are those in
America, as there were in England, who believed that war to repel invasion
was justified, but who were not enthusiastic for war abroad. America
entered the war after her patience was absolutely exhausted, and Americans
should be devoutly thankful that they can fight abroad and not have to
endure the presence of a single Prussian soldier on American soil. What we
saw and learned in Guise galvanized our weary bodies to new efforts
against the vandals whom we were fighting. With clenched teeth and curses
we turned to fight again.

The Uhlans got into the outskirts of the town and cut down a number of our
men, but, inch by inch, as they drove toward the centre of the village,
our resistance became stiffer and stiffer. It was like a nightmare. The
charging horses, the gruff shouts of the enemy, the groans of the men who
fell beside me, were like their counterparts in a dream. My finger pressed
the trigger of the rifle feverishly. Even when I saw the men I fired at
topple from their saddles and sprawl on the cobblestones, I had only a
dull sense that I had scored a hit.

Just as we were throwing the enemy back in some confusion, a party of
British worked round a back street and fired on them from the rear. A
second later a machine gun began strewing the ground with horses and men.
Squads of them threw up their hands and cried: "_Kamerad!
Kamerad!_"--which was not a new cry on the part of the Prussians. A young
fellow by my side stopped firing for a moment, but the rest of us knew
better. The Camerons had lost a score of men the day before because they
had taken the Germans at their word, and, when they went to make them
prisoners, a whole company of Prussians had risen from behind the crest to
a hill and shot the Camerons down