When the Company Commander received an order to send out a scouting party, he would call for volunteers. Armed with hand-grenades, about thirty of the best soldiers would go out into No Man’s Land to test the enemy’s strength by drawing his fire, or to alarm him by heavy bombing and shooting. Not infrequently scouting parties from both sides would meet. Then there would be a regular battle. It sometimes happened that one party would let an enemy party pass in front, and then attack it from the rear and capture it. The fifteenth of August, 1915, was a memorable day in our lives. The enemy opened a violent fire at us at three o’clock in the morning, demolishing our barbed-wire defences, destroying some of our trenches, and burying many soldiers alive. Many others were killed by enemy shells. Altogether we lost fifteen killed and forty wounded out of two hundred and fifty. It was clear that the Germans contemplated an offensive. Our artillery replied vigorously, and the earth shook with the thunder of the guns. We sought every protection available, our nerves strained in momentary anticipation of an attack. We crossed ourselves, prayed to God, made ready our rifles, and awaited orders. At six o’clock the Germans were observed climbing over the top and running in our direction. Closer and closer they came, and still we made no move, while our artillery rained shells on them. When they approached within a hundred feet of our line we received the order to open fire, and we greeted the enemy with such a concentrated hail of bullets, that his ranks were decimated and plunged in confusion. We took advantage of the situation and rushed at the Germans, turning them back and pursuing them along the twelve-mile front on which they had started to advance. The enemy lost ten thousand men that morning. During the day we received reinforcements, and also new equipment, including gas masks. Then word came that we were to take the offensive the following night. Our guns began a terrific bombardment of the German positions at six in the evening. We were all in a state of suppressed excitement. Men and officers mixed together, joking about death. Many expected not to return and wrote letters to their dear ones. Others prayed. Before an offensive the men’s camaraderie would reach its height. There would be affectionate partings, sincere professions by some of their premonitions of death and the sending of messages to friends. Universal joy was displayed whenever a shell of ours tore a gap in the enemy’s wire defences or fell into the midst of his trenches.