Directly east of us lay the valley of the Bug, as flat as a board, with the whole floor covered with areas of growing crops, some more advanced in ripeness than others, giving the appearance from our elevation of a gigantic chessboard. Away off to the west some big guns were firing occasionally, the sound of their reports and the bursting shells drifting back lazily to us. At one point on the horizon a village was burning, great clouds of dense smoke rolling up against the skyline. Otherwise the afternoon sunshine beat down on a valley that looked like a veritable farmer’s paradise, steeped in serenity and peace. For an hour we remained in this lovely spot, studying every detail of the landscape, and wondering when if ever it would be turned into a small hell of fury by the troops that now lay hidden under our very eyes. We left shortly before six and motored back in the setting sunlight to our head-quarters. Early the next morning I again went to see General Brussilov and almost the first thing he told me was that there had been a stiff fight the night before. The reader may imagine my disappointment to learn that within two hours of my departure the Austrians had launched an attack on the very chessboard that I had been admiring so much during the afternoon in the observation station. From this point, in comparative safety, I could have watched the whole enterprise from start to finish with the maximum of clearness and the minimum of risk. I have never seen a more ideal spot from which to see a fight, and probably will never again have such an opportunity as the one I missed last night.