heir time
while waiting their turn to go to the front. There were always,
while I was there, one or more parties in the field, either on the
Italian or the Russian front, or both, while a few writers and
artists were well enough known to be permitted to go out alone. The
Hungarian, Mr. Molnar, for instance, whose play, "The Devil," was
seen in America a few years ago, was writing at that time a series
of letters under the general title, "Wanderings on the East Front,"
and apparently, within obvious military limitations, he did wander.
One day, another man came into lunch with the news that he was off
on the best trip he'd had yet--he was going back to Vienna for his
skis, to go down into the Tyrol and work along glaciers to the
battery positions. Another man, a Budapest painter, started off for
an indefinite stay with an army corps in Bessarabia. He was to be,
indeed, part of the army for the time being, and all his work
belonged to the army first.

Foreigners not intending to remain in Austria-Hungary could not
expect such privileges, naturally; but if they were admitted to the
Quartier at all they were sent on the ordinary group excursions like
the home correspondents themselves. Indeed, the wonder was--in view
of the comparative ease with which neutral correspondents drifted
about Europe; the naivete to put it mildly, with which the wildest
romances had been printed in American newspapers--that we were
permitted to see as much as we did.

When a group started for the front it left Nagybicse in its own car,
which, except when the itinerary included some large city--Lemberg,
for instance--served as a little hotel until they came back again.
The car was a clean, second-class coach, of the usual European
compartment kind, two men to a compartment, and at night they bunked
on the long transverse seat comfortably enough. We took one long
trip of a thousand miles or so in this way, taking our own motor, on
a separate flat car, and even an orderly servant for each man.

Each of these groups was, of course, accompanied by an officer
guide--several were detailed at the Quartier for this special
duty--whose complex and nerve-racking task it was to answer all
questions, make all arrangements, report to each local commandant,
pass sentries, and comfortably waft his flock of civilians through
the maze of barriers which cover every foot, so to speak, of this
region near the front.

The things correspondents were permitted to