Four Weeks in the Trenches | Page 3

platoon
consisted of fifty-five men, two buglers, and an ambulance patrol of
four.
In Leoben my wife and I remained a week, which was spent in
organizing, equipping, requisitioning, recruiting, and preliminary
drilling. These were happy days, as we officers met for the first time,
friendships and bonds being sealed which subsequently were tested in
common danger and amidst privation and stress. Many of the officers
had brought their wives and soon delightful intercourse, utterly free
from formality, developed, without any regard or reference to rank,
wealth, or station in private life. Among the reserve officers of my
battalion were a famous sculptor, a well-known philologist, two
university professors (one of mathematics, the other of natural science),
a prince, and a civil engineer at the head of one of the largest Austrian
steel corporations. The surgeon of our battalion was the head of a great
medical institution and a man of international fame. Among my men in
the platoon were a painter, two college professors, a singer of repute, a
banker, and a post official of high rank. But nobody cared and in fact I
myself did not know until much later what distinguished men were in

my platoon. A great cloak of brotherhood seemed to have enveloped
everybody and everything, even differences in military rank not being
so obvious at this time, for the officers made friends of their men, and
in turn were worshipped by them.
My wife volunteered her services as Red Cross nurse, insisting upon
being sent to the front, in order to be as near me as could be, but it
developed later that no nurse was allowed to go farther than the large
troop hospitals far in the rear of the actual operations. Upon my urgent
appeal she desisted and remained in Vienna after I had left, nursing in
the barracks, which are now used for hospital work. In fact, almost
every third or fourth house, both private and public, as well as schools,
were given to the use of the government and converted into Red Cross
stations.
The happy days in Leoben came to an abrupt end, my regiment
receiving orders to start immediately for the front.
We proceeded to Graz, where we joined the other three battalions and
were entrained for an unknown destination. We traveled via Budapest
to Galicia, and left the train at Strij, a very important railroad center
south of Lemberg. It must be understood that the only reports reaching
us from the fighting line at that time were to the effect that the Russians
had been driven back from our border, and that the Austrian armies
actually stood on the enemy's soil. Strij being hundreds of miles away
from the Russian frontier, we could not but surmise that we were going
to be stationed there some time for the purpose of training and
maneuvering. This belief was strengthened by the fact that our regiment
belonged to the Landsturm, or second line of reserves, originally
intended for home service. We were, however, alarmed that very same
night and marched out of Strij for a distance of about twenty miles, in
conjunction with the entire Third Army Corps. After a short pause for
the purpose of eating and feeding the horses, we marched another
twenty-two miles. This first day's march constituted a very strong test
of endurance in consequence of our comparative softness and lack of
training, especially as, in addition to his heavy rifle, bayonet,
ammunition, and spade, each soldier was burdened with a knapsack
containing emergency provisions in the form of tinned meats, coffee
extract, sugar, salt, rice, and biscuits, together with various tin cooking
and eating utensils; furthermore a second pair of shoes, extra blouse,

changes of underwear, etc. On top of this heavy pack a winter overcoat
and part of a tent were strapped, the entire weight of the equipment
being in the neighborhood of fifty pounds. The day wore on. Signs of
fatigue soon manifested themselves more and more strongly, and
slowly the men dropped out one by one, from sheer exhaustion. No
murmur of complaint, however, would be heard. Most of those who fell
out of line, after taking a breathing space for a few minutes, staggered
on again. The few that remained behind joined the regiment later on
when camp was established. We wondered then at the necessity of such
a forced march, being unable to see a reason for it, unless it was to put
us in training.
Night had fallen when we reached a small monastery in the midst of a
forest, where the peaceful surroundings and the monastic life, entirely
untouched by the war fever, seemed strange indeed. Camp was
established, tents erected, fires were lighted, and coffee made. Soon a
life of bustling activity sprang up in the wilderness, in the