Long before we reached the vicinity of Verdun it was obvious to the
most casual observer that we were heading for a centre of unusual
activity.

Hospital trains travelling north-east and east were numerous, and twice
our train, which was one of the ordinary military trains, was shunted
on to a siding to allow troop trains to rumble past.

As we approached Verdun the noise of artillery, which I had heard
distantly once or twice during the day, as the casual railway train
approached the front, became more intense and grew from a low murmur
into a steady noise of a kind of growling description, punctuated at
irregular intervals by very deep booms as some especially heavy piece
was discharged, or an ammunition dump went up.

The country here is very different from the mud flats of Flanders, as
it is hilly and well wooded. The Meuse, in the course of centuries, has
cut its way through the rampart of hills which surround Verdun, and we
are attacking the place from three directions. On the north we are
slowly forcing the French back on either river bank--a very costly
proceeding, as each wing must advance an equal amount, or the one that
advances is enfiladed from across the river.

We are also slowly creeping forward from the east and north-east in the
direction of Douaumont.

I am attached to a 105-cm. battery, a young Major von Markel in
command, a most charming fellow. I spent all to-day in the advanced
observing position with a young subaltern called Grabel, also a nice