young fellow. I was in position at 6 a.m., and, as apparently is common
here, mist hides everything from view until the sun attains a certain
strength. Our battery was supporting the attack on the north side of
the river, though the battery itself was on the south side, and firing
over a hill called L'Homme Mort.

Von Markel told me that the fighting here has not been previously
equalled in the war, such is the intensity of the combat and the price
each side is paying.

I could see for myself that this was so, and the whole atmosphere of
the place is pregnant with the supreme importance of this struggle,
which may well be the dying convulsions of decadent France.

His Imperial Majesty himself has arrived on the scene to witness the
final triumph of our arms, and all agree that the end is imminent.

Once we get Verdun, it is the general opinion that this portion of the
French front will break completely, carrying with it the adjacent
sectors, and the French Armies in the Vosges and Argonne will be
committed to a general retreat on converging lines.

But, favourable as this would be to us, it is generally considered here
that the fall of Verdun will break the moral resistance of the French
nation.

The feeling is, that infinitely more is involved than the capture of a
French town, or even the destruction of a French Army; it is a question
of stamina; it is the climax of the world war, the focal point of the
colossal struggle between the Latin and the Teuton, and on the