Now the recital continues very ornate, very literary, and the writer
relates how his Imperial Highness Prince Oscar of Prussia, being advised
of the exploits (perhaps, indeed, other exploits than these) of the
154th and of the Regiment of Grenadiers, which forms the Brigade with
the 154th, declared them both worthy of the name of "King's Brigade,"
and the recital closes with this phrase: "When night came on, with a
prayer of thankfulness on our lips we fell asleep to await the coming
day." Then adding, by way of postscript, a little phrase "Heimkehr vom
Kampf." He carries the notebook--prose and verse together--to his
Lieutenant, who countersigns it: "Certified as correct, De Niem,
Lieutenant Commanding the Company," and then he sends his paper to his
town of Jauer, where he is quite confident that he will find some
newspaper publisher to accept it, printers to set it up, and a whole
population to enjoy it. Now, let me ask any reader--whatever be his
country--if he can imagine it possible for such a tale to be spread
abroad in any paper in his language, in his native town, for the
edification of his wife and his children. In what other country than in
Germany is such a thing conceivable? Not in France, at all events. Now,
if my readers want another document to show how customary it is in the
German Army to mutilate the wounded, well, I will borrow one from the
notebook of Private Paul Glöde of the Ninth Battalion of Pioneers, Ninth
Corps, (Figs. 17 and 18:)

Aug. 12, 1914, in Belgium.--One can get an idea of the fury of
our soldiers in seeing the destroyed villages. Not one house
left untouched. Everything eatable is requisitioned by the
unofficered soldiers. Several heaps of men and women put to
execution. Young pigs are running about looking for their
mothers. Dogs chained, without food or drink. And the
houses about them on fire. But the just anger of our soldiers