“The position of the regiment was a perilous one. Every moment the strength of the enemy was increasing, and the Russian ranks were decimated by their long exposure to heavy fire. It was necessary to strike a rapid blow, sharp and decisive; but officer after officer was brought in wounded, and at last word came that the commander himself had been killed. Men began to drop back from the front trenches. Indecision in the ranks threatened a panic. SWORD IN HAND, SHE LED THE ATTACK “Seeing that the men were wavering, and actuated by indignant horror at the unequal fight, Sister Myra Ivanovna drew a sword from the sheath of a dead officer and ran from the station. She was followed by some of the wounded soldiers, who, with tears in their eyes, implored her to return, and even tried to detain her by holding her arms, but she freed herself. “Then, her eyes burning with excitement, she went forward. She was not alone, for the soldiers were anxious to defend this frail woman who was leading them back to the trenches, her sword raised in the air. “The soldiers of the 10th Regiment were wavering in the trenches when, at the critical moment, Sister Myra, surrounded by a group of wounded soldiers, with uplifted sword, rushed toward the trench. At once there was a resounding ‘Hurrah!’ and the rifles of the exhausted soldiers commenced once more their deadly clicking. “For a moment Sister Myra bent toward the occupants of the trench, and they heard the word ‘_Golubebiki!_’ (Dear ones). Then, rising to her feet, she ran forward, her sword flashing in the air. All the men followed her. But all the time the enemy machine-guns were steadily spitting forth their leaden pellets of death, and, though losing men with every step, the remnants of the company made a wild dash for the enemy’s trench, which they occupied after furious work with the bayonet. The enemy fled precipitately, but in the recesses of the trench, on the bloody ground trodden by the feet of the eager combatants, lay Sister Myra Ivanovna. “Rough soldiers bent over her, and now that the excitement of the fray was over they wept as they tried vainly to arrest the flow of blood from a wound in her throat. She was carried out of the fire, but before she had proceeded far another bullet struck her, and she fell dead among the group of soldiers.” “A true heroine,” writes Mr. Kupchinsky, “a type of the Russian woman who is guiding us to victory.” Alas! that was in 1915. A HEROINE OF HUMANITY This Young Englishwoman Risked Death in a Hideous Form to Save the Lives of Others The serene courage of self-devotion to the service of humanity does not have the acclaim of the world very often. We have not learned how to measure the values of quiet heroism—the heroism that works in the solitude. We thrill to feats of daring, we are rather complacent to the bravery of scientific experiment, though the risk of life be great.