my regiment of rifles. Only from what was left of him could they draw their horrible and unthinkable conclusions.

I do not know whether I have more or less of courage than the usual man and soldier, but this I do know, that had I possessed a rifle where I lay concealed, long before they wrenched the first groan from his tortured body I would have fired at my comrade’s heart and trusted to my Maker and my legs.

No torture that I ever heard of or could ever have conceived — no punishment, no agony, no Calvary ever has matched the hellish hideousness of the endless execution of this young man� . He was only twenty-two years old; only a lieutenant among the thousands who served their common motherland. No man who ever lived has died more bravely; none, perhaps, as horribly and as