better provided than we were, but the little they brought was nothing
compared to our needs.

On the evening of that third day, knowing that our ammunition was
giving out, we felt that the next day would bring the end, and all our
thoughts turned homewards and to the dear ones. We all wrote
what we considered our parting and last farewell, each one pledging
himself to deliver and take care of the letters of the others if he
survived. It was a grave, sad, deeply touching moment, when we
resigned ourselves to the inevitable, and yet somehow we all felt
relieved and satisfied that the end might come and grimly resolved
to sell our lives dearly.

Never before had I as much reason to admire the wonderful power
of endurance and stoicism of our soldiers as on that night. Once
resigned to the worst, all the old-time spirit returned, as if by magic.
They sat together playing cards in as much moonlight as would fall
into the deep trench, relating jokes and bolstering up one another's
courage.

The fourth day broke gloomy, with a drizzling rain. At ten o'clock
one of our men became suddenly insane, jumped out of the trench,
danced wildly and divested himself of every stitch of clothing while
doing so. Strange to say, the Russians must have realized that the
man was insane, for they never fired at him, neither did they at the
two men who jumped out to draw him back. We succeeded in
comforting and subduing him, and he soon fell into a stupor and
remained motionless for some time. As soon as darkness fell we
succeeded in conveying him back to the reserves and I understand
that he got quite well again in a few days.