“Comrades True”

THE brilliant moonlight streaming between the black clouds Which chased each other across the sky revealed a scene of pitiable desolation. The cruel storm of war had burst in all its fury over a once lovely spot, and passions of the fight had swept away the verdure of the pasture lands, and encumbered the narrow streets of the one-time village with heaps of ruins.
All day long the leaden messengers of death had flown thick as hail.’ In the yet-to-be-written history of the war the story of the Battle of ― will stand forth as one of the most bloody and hotly contested in a struggle unequaled in the world’s history for slaughter.
As the shades of evening had fallen the foe had been forced to retreat to an entrenched position, the sounds of battle had died away and a strange and uncanny silence brooded over that field of blood and horror. The Red Cross men had, by unflagging effort, succeeded in conveying the wounded to the rear of the lines, and the cries and groans of wounded men had ceased.