Lament of the Virgin

The place where we sat in the trenches seemed somehow special. It was as if someone helped us: the Germans attacked us with superior forces, and we threw them away, and our losses were surprisingly small.

And that day the fight was especially fierce. The entire no-man’s strip was covered with the bodies of the dead, both ours and the Germans. The battle subsided only in the evening. We are busy, who, than waiting, when dinner will be brought to us. I got the pouch, lit it, and my countryman, Ivan Bozhkov, walked away. Suddenly I see: Bozhkov stuck his head over the parapet.

- Ivan, - I shout, - what are you doing? Sniper waiting for?

Bozhkov sank into a trench - not himself. And he says to me quietly:
- Petya, there is a woman crying ...

- It seemed to you, where did the woman come from?

But when the “music” subsided from the Germans, we heard that a woman was really crying somewhere. Bozhkov put a helmet on his head and climbed out on the parapet.

“There is a cloud of fog,” he tells us. “And in the mist, a woman walks toward us in a drawstring ... leaning over the dead and crying ...”

We carefully looked out of the trench. A woman in dark and long clothes walked along a no-man’s strip in fog clubs. She leaned toward the ground and wept. Then someone says:
- And the Germans, too, are looking at the vision. Their helmets over the trenches are sticking out ... Yes, there’s something wrong here. Look how tall She is, twice as tall as a normal woman ...

As we watched the vision, a strange mist covered most of the draw line. I thought:
“It is necessary that she covers the dead with a shroud ...” And the Woman, so similar to the Theotokos, suddenly stopped crying, turned towards our trenches and bowed.

- Our Lady of God bowed in our direction! Victory is ours! - loudly said Bozhkov.

А source: https://www.inpearls.ru/