as did Van Hee, with which to
play diplomatic poker. So we were compelled to bluff. Telling the
German commander that we would call on him again, we climbed
into the car and quietly left the city by the same route we had
followed upon entering it the preceding day. All along the road we
found soldiers smoking the cigarettes we had distributed to them.
Instead of stopping us and demanding to see our papers they
waved their hands cheerily and called, "Auf wiedersehn!" As we
knew that we could not get through Louvain without being stopped,
we drove boldly up to headquarters and asked the general
commanding the division if he would detail a staff officer to
accompany us to the outer lines. (There seemed no need of
mentioning the fact that we had no passes.) The general said, with
profuse apologies, that he had no officer available at the moment,
but hoped that a sergeant would do. We carried the sergeant with
us as far as Aerschot, distributing along the way what remained of
our cigarettes. At Aerschot we were detained for nearly an hour, as
the officer who had visited Atlantic City, Niagara Falls and Coney
Island insisted on our waiting while he sent for another officer who,
until the outbreak of the war, had lived in Chicago. We tried not to
show our impatience at the delay, but our hair stood on end every
time a telephone bell tinkled. We were afraid that the staff in
Brussels, learning of our unauthorized departure, would telephone
to the outposts to stop us. It was with a heartfelt sigh of relief
that we finally shook hands with our hosts and left ruined Aerschot
behind us. I opened up the throttle, and the big car fled down the long,
straight road which led to the Belgian lines like a hunted cat on the
top of a backyard fence.

V. With The Spiked Helmets

It was really a Pittsburg chauffeur who was primarily responsible for
my being invited to dine with the commander of the Ninth German
Army. The chauffeur's name was William Van Calck and his
employer was a gentleman who had amassed several millions
manufacturing hats in the Smoky City. When war was declared the
hat-manufacturer and his family were motoring in Austria, with Van
Calck at the wheel of the car. The car being a large and powerful
one, it was promptly commandeered by the Austrian military
authorities; the hat-manufacturer and his family, thus dumped
unceremoniously by the roadside, made their way as best they
could to England; and Van Calck, wh