nd--and on the crosses are printed the names with the number of
the German regiments. At the base of every cross there rests either a
crucifix or a statue of the Virgin or a wreath of artificial flowers,
all looted from the French graveyard.

With the German graves are French graves made afterward. I walked
through this ruined city where, aside from the soldiery, the only sign
of life I saw was a gaunt, prowling cat. With me past these hundreds of
graves walked half a dozen French officers. They did not pause to read
inscriptions; they did not comment on the loot and pillage of the
graveyard; they scarcely looked even at the graves, but they kept
constantly raising their hands to their caps in salute regardless of
whether the cross numbered a French or a German life destroyed.

We were driving along back of the advance lines. On the road before us
was a company of territorial infantry who had been eight days in the
trenches and were now to have two days of repose at the rear. Plodding
along the same road was a refugee mother and several little children in
a donkey cart; behind the cart, attached by a rope, trundled a baby
buggy with the youngest child inside. The buggy suddenly struck a rut in
the road and overturned, spilling the baby into the mud. Terrible wails
arose, and the soldiers stiffened to attention. Then, seeing the
accident, the entire company broke ranks and rescued the infant. They
wiped the dirt from its face and restored it to its mother in the cart.

So engrossing was the spectacle our motor halted, and our Captain from
Great General Headquarters in his gorgeous blue uniform climbed from the
car, discussing with the mother the safety of a baby buggy riding behind
a donkey cart, at the same time congratulating the soldier who rescued
the child.

Our trip throughout moved with that clockwork precision usually
associated only with the Germans. The schedule throughout the week never
varied from the arrangements made before we left Paris. When we arrived
at certain towns we were handed slips of paper bearing our names and the
hotel number of our room.

Amazing meals appeared at most amazing places, all the menus carefully
thought out days before. Imagine fresh trout served you with other
famous French delicacies in a little house in the battle zone, where
only a few hundred yards of barbed wire and a few feet more of air
separated you from the German trenches. During the German advance, also
after the