few feet from me. "Get in," a furious voice commanded. It was amazing how instantaneously the choking fear vanished, amazing how suddenly the feeling of security washed over me -- even before I was off the street -- as soon as I heard his voice. I jumped into the seat, slamming the door shut behind me. It was dark in the car, no light had come on with the opening of the door, and I could barely see his face in the glow from the dashboard. The tires squealed as he spun around to face north, accelerating too quickly, swerving toward the stunned men on the street. I caught a glimpse of them diving for the sidewalk as we straightened out and sped toward the harbor. "Put on your seat belt," he commanded, and I realized I was clutching the seat with both hands. I quickly obeyed; the snap as the belt connected was loud in the darkness. He took a sharp left, racing forward, blowing through several stop signs without a pause.
barrage of artillery demoralized the hungry, tired troops of his left flank, and before noon they had fled the field without a single serious German infantry assault. Soon the realization penetrated to Samsonov that instead of the Russians crushing a retreating German Army, that army had in fact almost enveloped him. His XIII and XV Corps, in the center, fought bravely in the confused, surging struggle, but the frantic orders and cries for help that their radios squealed in clear were all heard by the Germans who, fully informed, could exploit a gap here, a movement there. Bit by bit the Germans drove in behind the two corps from both sides; soon the Russians found themselves fighting both front and rear. By the 30th, the Germans had encircled the corps with a ring of steel from which only 2,000 Russians escaped. This ended the battle: there were no Russians left to fight. By then Samsonov was dead. He had shot
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