Before long the devastating billow surged back. Again roared the thunder of guns, and the drums rattled. Our troops are advancing; wild struggle rages round the city. The Prussian battalions press forward through the streets into the market-place against the enemy, who still hold the western suburb. It is the young Landwehr who this day receive their baptism of blood. The balls whistle through the streets; they strike the tiles and plaster of the houses; the citizens have again concealed their wives and children in cellars and out-of-the-way places. The battalions halt in the market-place. The ammunition waggons are opened. The first companies press forward to the same gate through which, a few days before, the enemy had rushed into the city. The struggle rages fiercely. In the assault the enemy are thrown back; but fresh masses establish themselves in the houses of the suburb, and contend for the entrances to the streets. Mutilated and severely wounded men are carried back and laid down in the market-place, and more than once the combatants have to be relieved. When the inexperienced soldiers see their comrades borne back from the fight, their faces blackened with powder, and covered with sweat and blood, their courage sinks within them; but the officers, who are also for the first time in close combat, spring forward, and "Forward, children! the Fatherland calls!" sounds through the ranks. At one time the enemy succeeded in storming the upper gate, but scarcely have they forced their way into the first street leading to the market, when a company of Landwehr throw themselves upon them with loud hurrahs, and drive them out of the gate.[57] The thunder roars; the fiery hail pierces through doors and windows; the dead lie on the pavement and thresholds of the houses. Then any citizen who has a manly heart can no longer bear the close air of his hiding place. He presses close behind his fighting countrymen near to the struggle. He raises the wounded from the pavement, and carries them on his back either to his house or the hospital. Again the boys are not among the last; they fetch water, and call at the houses for some drink for the wounded whom they support; they climb up the ammunition waggons and hand down the cartridges, proud of their work they are unconcerned about the whistling bullets. Even the women rush out of the houses, with bread in their aprons and full flasks in their hands; they may thus do something to help the Fatherland.