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Show Youthful Belgain Slain By Germans Captain of the Squad Relates Tragic Incident or the Campaign , , London, Sept. 12. One of tho most vivid accounts of an oplsodo of war comos from the Lokal Anzieger of August 24. It is a letter from Paul Oskar Hoecker, a Berlin playwright play-wright now serving as captain of .the, reserves. His play, "A Nation In Arms," Is being given at tho Berlin opera houso. Ho described a mission on which ho was dispatched to search for arms In Belgian villages In which shots had boen flred on civilians on German Ger-man troops. His Instructions were to summon the villagers to deliver up their arms and those in whoso possession arms wero found, aftel they declared that they had none, wero to be Instantly shot. Describing a visit to Jungbusch, ho says that in one house wero found an old man, n woman and a girl of 13. "Then a terrible thing happened. V sergeant and a private dragged a young fellow out of tho houso. They had found him hiding among the straw In tho loft. Ho had in his hands a Belgian rltle loaded with five cartridges. From tho opening, of tho roof he may havo aimed nt many an honest German. Tho youth had to put his hands up. Stammering and deadly pale, ho stands thero. "Who is this youth? I asked tho old man. As if struck by lightening they all threo fell on their knees walling. The woman groaned, He is my son. For God's sake you aro not going to kill him? and tho little girl sobbed as if her heart would break. Tho prisoner tried to escape but was put up against the wall by the men. "I had to picture to myself by forco the Gorman patrols riding thru the night with tho bullots ot treach-helmets treach-helmets and think of the tall figures, and bright oyea of our good Oerman fellows In order to master my nerves In faco of this sorrow and fulfill my, order. "He has to be shot. Threo men Ready! "Tho threo men commanded, who wero fatherB ot families, two from Berlin and ono a farmer did not turn a hair. This Is a Just business. Wo had got a rufllan who morlted no compassion. Tho volley rang put. Tho trembling body collapsed to tho ground and did not move ngaln. Threo tiny holes woro visible In tho bluo blouse. Tho boy's eyes nro closed. His faco has not changed Its oppression. Death by our rlllo Is painless. "Wo ought to burn tho old man'n houso over his head, said ono of my men, "March, quick, I ordered. "Tho thrco peasants are still kneeling kneel-ing on the' ground, tho corps lies up agalnflt tho wall." |