In the preceding chapters we have followed, day by day, the military events of the Russian retreat and of the German advance after the fall of Warsaw and Ivangorod. With admiration we have heard of the deeds of valor accomplished by the various armies of the three belligerents. The endurance that they displayed, the hardships that they had to bear, the losses that they suffered--both victor and conquered--have given us a clearer idea what war means to the men that actually wage it. Occasionally we have had glimpses of the devastation that it brings to the country over the hills and valleys and over the plains and forests of which it rages. Again and again we have been told of the horrible suffering and utter ruin which was the share of the civic population, rich and poor, young and old, man, woman, or child. But these latter features are apt to be overshadowed by the more sensational events of battle and siege, and in the excitement of these we easily lose sight of the tremendous drama in which not trained soldiers act the parts, but ordinary everyday beings, farmers and merchants, working men and women, students and scholars, people of every age, race, and condition, people just like we ourselves and like those with whom we come in daily contact throughout our entire life. And yet their numbers run into the tens of millions as compared with the hundreds of thousands or perhaps four or five millions of soldiers, and it is _their_ suffering--bared as it is of the glory and excitement that usually lightens the life of the fighting man--that is the quintessence of war's tragedy. No one who has not been himself a participant or an actual observer of these horrors can really and truly gauge their full extent or describe them adequately. But a clear record of them is as much an essential requirement of a war's history as a chronological narration of its various events. In the following paragraphs will be found gathered reliable reports based on the keen observation of men who in their capacity as special correspondents of various newspapers had opportunities to collect and observe facts at close range and the very vicinity where they transpired. They come from various sources, but chiefly from the narrative of a war correspondent published in the Munich "Neueste Nachrichten," who was himself an eyewitness of what he describes. Although they refer more especially to that part of Russia that is situated between the Galician border and the fortress of Brest-Litovsk--the region of the Bug River--they might have been written equally well of any part or all of the eastern theatre of war, for they are typical of what happened throughout that vast territory that stretches from the eastern front as it stood at the time of Warsaw's fall in the beginning of August, 1915, to that other line that formed a new front, much farther to the east, when the German advance into Russia came to an end in the latter part of October, 1915: