s we passed the stones marking the boundary-line between France
and Lorraine there was a tangible feeling of making history, and it was
not without a thrill that we entered Aumetz and heard the old people greet
us in French while the children could speak only German. The town was gay
with the colors of France--produced from goodness knows where. Children
were balancing themselves on the barrels of abandoned German cannon and
climbing about the huge camouflaged trucks. We were now where France,
Luxemburg, and Lorraine meet, and all day we skirted the borders of first
one and then the other, halting for the night at the French town of
Villerupt. The people went wild when we rode in--we were the first
soldiers of the Allies they had seen, for the Germans entered immediately
after the declaration of war, and the only poilus the townsfolk saw were
those that were brought in as prisoners. We were welcomed in the town
hall--the German champagne was abominable but the reception was
whole-hearted and the speeches were sincere in their jubilation.

I was billeted with the mayor, Monsieur Georges. After dinner he produced
two grimy bottles of Pol Roger--he said that he had been forced to change
their hiding-place four times, and had just dug them up in his cellar.
They were destined for the night of liberation. Monsieur Georges was thin
and worn; he had spent two years in prison in solitary confinement for
having given a French prisoner some bread. His eighteen-year-old daughter
was imprisoned for a year because she had not informed the authorities as
to what her father had done. No one in the family would learn a single
word of German. They said that all French civilians were forced to salute
the Germans, and each Sunday every one was compelled to appear in the
market-place for general muster. The description of the departure of their
hated oppressors was vivid--the men behind the lines knew the full portent
of events and were sullen and crestfallen, but the soldiers fresh from the
front believed that Germany had won and was dictating her own terms; they
came through with wreaths hung on their bayonets singing songs of victory.

I had often wondered how justly the food supplies sent by America for the
inhabitants of the invaded districts were distributed. Monsieur Georges
assured me that the Germans were scrupulously careful in this matter,
because they feared that if they were not, the supplies would no longer
be sent, and this w