Suddenly, red fuses were flung into the air. An attack had begun. In a few seconds, all the cannons were thundering together. The German shrapnels exploded four at a time in a luminous mass of absinthe green, in the centre of which were red balls. They rent the air with a huge noise. The seventy-fives rushed out yelling. In the distance, their sudden flames were like gigantic will-o'-the-wisps. A machine-gun could now be heard, and then a second one, and a third. Some soldiers of the 418th passed along in close file, dressed in pale blue which mingled with the darkness. Their bayonets glittered in the green light of the fuses, and then again, with mad yells, the "big" shells appeared on the plateau, flinging into the air opaque clouds which gathered round us. Gun firing could be heard crackling all along the line. An immense brazier had been lighted at Lizerne. It grew bigger and bigger. And among the piles of dark night clouds, above Steenstraete in flames, a blood-red moon arose. CHAPTER XXXV Steenstraete (May 25, 1915) By Dr. Duwez, Army Surgeon to the Regiment of Grenadiers At Steenstraete, the upheaval, the absolute destruction of everything is formidable. The very places where the houses stood are only recognisable by the heaps of broken bricks of their foundations. There was not much left when we arrived in the Sector, but, at present, there is not even one stone upon another. Everywhere there are craters hollowed out, and these are so close together that they run into each other. In one of these, a German corpse could be seen, standing up, buried up to his waist and headless. Pieces of uniforms were visible in the beaten soil, and, as the ground gave way, one saw a face under one's feet, the shape of which was vaguely outlined and the mouth, with its white teeth, was open like a rat hole. We saw what had been the brewery with its huge cellars. It had fallen completely in. We could only recognise the road by its torn-up pavement and its twisted rails. Of all Steenstraete, there is nothing left, it has been razed to the ground. The bridge is nothing but a wretched heap of old iron.