“Try to imagine the feelings and the condition of the colored troops as they saw the vast cloud of greenish-yellow gas spring out of the ground and slowly move down wind towards them, the vapor clinging to the earth, seeking out every hole and hollow and filling the trenches and shell holes as it came. First wonder, then fear; then, as the first, fringes of the cloud enveloped them and left them choking and agonized in the fight for breath—panic. Those who could move broke and ran, trying, generally in vain, to outstrip the cloud which followed inexorably after them.” It is only to be expected that the first feeling connected with gas warfare was one of horror. That side of it is very thrillingly described by Rev. O. S. Watkins in the _Methodist Recorder_ (London). After describing the bombardment of the City of Ypres from April 20th to 22nd he relates that in the midst of the uproar came the poison gas! [Illustration: FIG. 1.—French Gas Attack as seen from an Aeroplane. The French front, second and third line trenches are plainly visible. The gas is seen issuing over a wide front from the front line and drifting towards the German lines.] “Going into the open air for a few moments’ relief from the stifling atmosphere of the wards, our attention was attracted by very heavy firing to the north, where the line was held by the French. Evidently a hot fight—and eagerly we scanned the country with our field glasses hoping to glean some knowledge of the progress of the battle. Then we saw that which almost caused our hearts to stop beating—figures running wildly and in confusion over the fields. “‘The French have broken,’ we exclaimed. We hardly believed our words.... The story they told we could not believe; we put it down to their terror-stricken imaginings—a greenish-gray cloud had swept down upon them, turning yellow as it traveled over the country, blasting everything it touched, shriveling up the vegetation. No human courage could face such a peril. “Then there staggered into our midst French soldiers, blinded, coughing, chests heaving, faces an ugly purple color—lips speechless with agony, and behind them, in the gas-choked trenches, we learned that they had left hundreds of dead and dying comrades. The impossible was only too true. “It was the most fiendish, wicked thing I have ever seen.”