snow, there was nothing left for those of us in the forward
position to do but to cut our way through to the rear position in order
to rejoin our comrades there. The enemy had just gained the street of
the village as we began our fatal withdrawal--fighting from house to
house in snow up to our waists, each new dash leaving more of our
comrades lying in the cold and snow, never to be seen again. How the
miserable few did succeed in eventually rejoining their comrades no one
will ever know. We held on to the crest of the hill for a few moments to
give our artillery opportunity to open up on the village and thus cover
our withdrawal. Again another misfortune arose to add more to the danger
and peril of our withdrawal. A few days previously our gallant and
effective Canadian artillery had been relieved by a unit of Russian
artillery and during the early shelling this fateful morning, the
Russian artillerymen deserted their guns--something that no Canadian
ever would have done in such a situation. By the time the Russians were
forced back to their guns at the point of a pistol in the hands of
Captain Odjard, our little remaining band had been compelled to give way
in the face of the terrific fire from the forests on our flanks and the
oncoming advance of the newly formed enemy line. To withdraw we were
compelled to march straight down the side of this hill, across an open
valley some eight hundred yards or more in the terrible snow, and under
the direct fire of the enemy. There was no such thing as cover, for this
valley of death was a perfectly open plain, waist deep with snow. To run
was impossible, to halt was worse yet and so nothing remained but to
plunge and flounder through the snow in mad desperation, with a prayer
on our lips to gain the edge of our fortified positions. One by one, man
after man fell wounded or dead in the snow, either to die from the
grievous wounds or terrible exposure. The thermometer still stood about
forty-five degrees below zero and some of the wounded were so terribly
frozen that their death was as much due to such exposure as enemy
bullets. Of this entire platoon of forty-seven men, seven finally
succeeded in gaining the shelter of the main position uninjured. During
the day a voluntary rescue party under command of Lieut. McPhail, "Sgt."
Rapp, and others of Company "A" with Morley Judd of the Ambulance Corps,
went out into the snow under continuous fire and brought in some of the
wounded and