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Cover of True Stories of the Great War, Volume 4 (of 6) Tales of Adventure--Heroic Deeds--Exploits Told by the Soldiers, Officers, Nurses, Diplomats, Eye Witnesses — Reading Companion

True Stories of the Great War, Volume 4 (of 6) Tales of Adventure--Heroic Deeds--Exploits Told by the Soldiers, Officers, Nurses, Diplomats, Eye Witnesses — Reading Companion

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In Category - World Events

Authors: Miller, Francis Trevelyan, 1877-1959 [Editor] Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2015 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 113,667

Reading time 495 min

Text sections 31

Before opening True Stories of the Great War, Volume 4 (of 6) Tales of Adventure--Heroic Deeds--Exploits Told by the Soldiers, Officers, Nurses, Diplomats, Eye Witnesses — Reading Companion, the edition data offers a quick orientation: 113,667 words, 8 hr 15 min estimated reading time, and 31 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 18.3 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #49391

A 1917 collection of 134 firsthand accounts from soldiers, nurses, aviators, and spies, compiled by Francis Trevelyan Miller. The excerpts reveal a focus on escape narratives, civilian invasion experiences, and the logistical details of survival, often diverging from the catalog's broad 'personal narratives' label.

Editorial Edition Score 4.9/5

★★★★★ ★★★★★

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Description quality20 pts
Title & short description10 pts
Source metadata20 pts
Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
EPUB file integrity20 pts

Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.

Edition quality

File: pg49391

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was published--that all spirits were to be destroyed, and the use of alcohol forbidden. What excitement prevailed over this announcement in a country where at dinner one must reckon at least one bottle of wodka for each guest! Such strong stuff was it that the only time I ever tried it I thought my last moment had come! The day before the official destruction was to take place we went to get alcohol for the hospital--both the pure, and the colored for burning in lamps, etc. There were tremendous crowds about, all struggling to get a last bottle to drink, already drunken--without shame, and horrid! I thought then what a wonderful thing the Czar had done for humanity. How brave it was deliberately to destroy a tremendous source of income in order to help his people! We were forced to have police protection to bring the bottles home. Such bottles! Each one holding twelve quarts!

The next day we saw the destruction of the "Monopol." The chief of police ordered all spirits carried to the top of a hill in the outskirts of Suwalki--then with much ceremony the bottles were smashed, letting the fiery stuff flow in streams! What cries there were from the people--the peasants threw themselves down on the ground, lapped the wodka with their tongues, and when they could swallow no more they rolled over and over in it! After a while my husband thought it better to leave; even in an automobile there was little safety among such mad creatures. We were very glad when "King Alcohol" had been vanquished, and we shuddered to think what would have been if such an orgy had taken place without police to quell it!

About nine o'clock a peasant came to tell me the Germans were coming! Some one had seen them. I made the four soldiers eat, and gave them food and cigarettes to carry with them. They were ill men. After a mutual blessing they went back to await their fate.

Suddenly hearing an uproar, I saw some of the bad elements of the town looting, searching for food, knocking each other down, screaming--a horrid sight! The Jews who were always so meek, had now more self-assertion, strutting about, stretching up until they looked inches taller. It was hard work to tear myself away from the balcony. I, too, seemed unable to control myself, running from the balcony to the child and from the child to the balcony.

At eleven the streets again grew quiet, the time was near, and I saw the first _pikel-haube_ come around the corner, rifle cocked--on the lookout for snipers!

III--STORY OF THE "OLD WOMAN SPY"

The first one was soon followed by his comrades. Then an officer, who rounded the corner, coming to a stop directly before our windows. An old Jewess stepped out and saying, "_Guten Tag_," handed him a packet of papers, and gave various directions with much gesticulation. A spy at our very door! A woman I had seen many times! Busy with Wladek I saw no more for a while when a cry from the two other children made me rush to the window. They were coming into our court. The soldiers! And in a moment rushed into the room where we were, in spite of the signs tacked up on all doors "Tyfus." Seeing me in the Red Cross uniform they held back a moment. One bolder than his comrades laughed, saying, "She is trying to deceive us," and came toward me with a threatening gesture. Then with all my fear, God gave me strength to defy them. In German, which fortunately I speak very well, I asked what they wanted.

"You cannot stop here. There is typhus."

"Show us the ill ones."

Opening the door to my own bedroom where the child lay, talking, moving the little hands incessantly, I saw that the nurse from the excess of fright had crawled under the bed. The soldier yanked her out, saying he would not hurt her, chucked her under the chin, and called her a "pretty animal!" Poor Stephinia, she could hardly stand! I, in my anxiety, pushed the soldier from the room, to find the others already making themselves at home.

"You cannot stop here. Go away! I am not afraid of you; I am an American. If you do any harm to us the world shall hear of it!"

They had been drinking, and the very fact that I defied them made an impression.

"Go out on the road. I will send food to you."

They went. One of them, giving me a look of sympathy, said:

"You have my sympathy, Madame."

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This volume collects 134 episodes from twenty-eight contributors, ranging from a Polish noblewoman's account of the German invasion to a German submarine commander's patrol log. The editor, Francis Trevelyan Miller, frames these as 'the best stories of the war,' but the excerpts show a narrower preoccupation: the mechanics of escape. In one extended narrative, three British prisoners of war sabotage a threshing machine, hide in bushes, and navigate by a map and compass, hoarding twenty-one biscuits and two tins of sardines. The catalog subject 'personal narratives' is accurate but generic; the actual text dwells on concrete tactics—removing identifying stripes from uniforms, timing movements to avoid sentries, and using rain as a water source.

Escape as a Recurring Structure

The longest excerpt details a prisoner's third escape attempt, emphasizing planning over heroism. The narrator describes 'stuffing' pockets with biscuits, cutting up a waistcoat to hide uniform stripes, and deliberately breaking a threshing machine to create an opportunity. The language is procedural: 'We fixed up our arrangements and bided our time.' This focus on method—rather than patriotic rhetoric—appears in multiple excerpts. The table of contents lists 'My Third Attempt—The Flight,' suggesting the volume prioritizes repeated, incremental efforts over single dramatic acts. The catalog's 'heroic deeds' subtitle is undercut by the text's emphasis on patience, rationing, and avoiding detection.

Civilian Voices and the Invasion of Poland

The first entry, 'When the Prussians Came to Poland,' is told by Madame Laura de Gozdawa Turczynowicz, an American woman married to a Polish nobleman. The catalog lists her as an 'eye witness,' but the excerpt's title frames her experience as a 'tragedy,' not a detached observation. Her inclusion alongside military accounts suggests the volume blurs the line between combatant and non-combatant testimony. The editor's note that stories come from 'twenty-eight of the most authentic sources' includes diplomats, nurses, and priests, yet the excerpts available show a strong tilt toward Anglo-American perspectives. The Polish narrative is the only one explicitly about civilian suffering, hinting at a broader range that the full text may contain.

Material Details Over Emotional Appeals

The escape narrative is rich with physical specifics: 'twenty-one biscuits saved from our parcels,' 'two tins of sardines,' 'a map and compass,' and 'water in the ditches.' The narrator even notes the type of clothing—'a cap, a cardigan jacket, a black scarf, and an old coat.' This granularity contrasts with the catalog's generic 'tales of adventure.' The text avoids abstract valor; instead, it records how prisoners 'husbanded our resources and our strength, even as we husbanded our food supply.' The repeated word 'husbanded' (used twice in one sentence) underscores a survivalist logic. The volume's subtitle promises 'heroic deeds,' but the excerpts deliver logistical problem-solving, suggesting the editor selected stories for their instructional, rather than inspirational, value.

Readers approaching this volume expecting a unified narrative of the Great War will find instead a mosaic of discrete, often technical accounts. The editor's claim of 'official and authoritative sources' is complicated by the inclusion of a German submarine commander's story alongside Allied prisoners' tales. Pay attention to the framing devices—the permissions, the credited publishers—as they reveal the volume's origins in contemporary publishing networks. The most useful lens is to treat each episode as a self-contained artifact of how war was packaged for a 1917 American audience.

I keep thinking about the escape tales in this volume, how survival hinges on the smallest details—a smuggled map, a whispered password. That same quiet tension lived in The Battle of the Marne, where the fog of uncertainty felt as heavy as the mud. The Battle of the Marne — Text and Context brought back my grandfather’s war stories, told so plainly, yet each pause held an ocean of what he couldn’t say. I felt that hush again here.