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قراءة كتاب True Stories of The Great War Volume 2 (of 6) Tales of Adventure-Heroic Deeds-Exploits told by the Soldiers, Officers, Nurses, Diplomats, Eye Witnesses
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True Stories of The Great War Volume 2 (of 6) Tales of Adventure-Heroic Deeds-Exploits told by the Soldiers, Officers, Nurses, Diplomats, Eye Witnesses
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British Official Photo, by International Film Service.
BASEBALL PLAYERS AND CRICKETERS MAKE
GOOD GRENADE THROWERS
Position No. 1 in Bombing

THE HELL OF "LIQUID FIRE" WHICH HAS BECOME A REGULAR PART OF WAR
AN AMERICAN "BEHIND THE SCENES IN WARRING GERMANY"
This vivid and authentic narrative covering five months of thrilling experience with the Kaiser's Armies in France, Belgium, Austria, Russia and Germany, is the first hand impressions of an American writer whose special credentials from the German Government enabled him to go everywhere and see everything through official courtesies not extended to other observers in the field. Mr. Fox has interviewed the Kings of Bavaria and Saxony, the Crown Prince, General von Hindenberg, the Governor General of Belgium, and the President of the Reichstag. He has witnessed the campaigning at close range in the trenches at Arras and Ypres, has lived with the German officers at headquarters, has surveyed the battlefield from an aeroplane and a Zeppelin and has enjoyed the unique sensations of scouting under the sea in a submarine, and as a final unprecedented experience has covered with an official escort the whole length of General von Hindenberg's battle line in Russia. One chapter of his experiences is here recorded from his book: "Behind the Scenes in Warring Germany," by courtesy of his publishers, Robert M. McBride and Company, New York: Copyright 1915.
[1] I—STORY OF A NIGHT ON THE BALTIC SEA
In the lingering twilight, the Baltic's choppy swells turned dark and over the bow I saw a vague gray strip of land—Germany! I was at the gateway of war.
For two hours the railway ferry had plowed between the mines that strew the way to Denmark with potential death, and as slowly the houses of Warnemunde appeared in shadow against the darkening day, some one touched my arm.
"Safe now."
He was the courier. He had traveled with me from New York to Copenhagen, a bland, reserved young man, with a caution beyond his years. I had come to know he was making the trip as a German courier, and he was an American with no Teutonic blood in his veins! Knowing the ropes, he had suggested that he see me through to Berlin.
"It's good we came over the Baltic," he remarked, "instead of making that long trip through Jutland. We save eight hours."
"Yes," I agreed, "nothing like slipping in the back door."
And being new to it then, and being very conscious of certain letters I carried, and of the power implied in the documents which I knew he carried, I wondered what the frontier guard would do. During the two hours we ferried from the Danish shore the passengers talked in a troubled way