• 1915. Turkish shrapnel and German champagne

  • What was written about Russian Newspapers exactly one hundred years ago? Here are a few publications, taken from three different editions that came out in Russia in February, 1915.

    Our Caucasian correspondent reports: "Delivered in Tiflis hospitals Turks dress up in new clothes, and their rags are burned. Combustion of rags on a blazing fire rises this crack from combusted together with clothes masses of insects, as if the fire was started some explosive".

    "New Times, February 1915.

    One fugitive from Reims says the following amusing incident: "When the Germans came into the country of champagne, they turned to the owner of one of the most well-known companies with trebouchet give them wine. The head of the only remaining solution was to fulfill the requirement.
    - How many bottles do you need?" he asked.
    -"Five hundred dozen," replied the Germans.

    The wine was awarded without any expression of displeasure, and the Germans were so pleased with this that he even paid for the wine,
    however, the small price. Before leaving, they condescended that expressed the head of his pleasure about his showarchive.

    - What to do, war is war, " he replied, with a sly grin, twirling his moustache. "However, I must say that all this wine before the war was ordered by a major German company, and even money already paid for it".

    "Russian invalid", February 1915.

    The day began a sad omen -
    In children from Bojnice had the icon...
    Prejudices?.. - True... in the heart of the finely
    Crawled anxiety... I'm afraid of the newspaper.
    Bright victims of war, cold flat lists,
    So no complaints, tears and cry?
    Because eh, what grief is too great,
    Because eh, that happiness is already too close?..
    Terribly touching him an inquisitive glance
    Like to unfamiliar images of a country group,
    Trembling, to see the meadow next
    Blood and outlines expensive corpse...
    Tea is very cool... the dust,
    Scared by the sun, a grey tulle woven in...
    Here is the call wept like orphaned,
    And steps in front quietly rustled...
    Smoke in the eyes - after all, someone whispers - "telegram"...
    God, why put the stamp - "Vilna"?
    Ripped... heart grows gamma
    Fear and hope... heart beats strongly...
    Wounded. In the infirmary... the Crumpled formidable battle.
    He may be crippled... maybe my dream was?
    Let!.. I tearfully joyful prayer
    Kiss even an expensive crutch...

    Sergey Mikheev

    The magazine "War", February 1915.


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