e truth of it strikes us as
it never did before--that a chimney standing alone typifies desolation
and ruin more fitly, more brutally, than any written words could typify
it.

Everywhere there are soldiers--German soldiers--in their soiled, dusty
gray service uniforms, always in heavy boots; always with their tunics
buttoned to the throat. Some, off duty, are lounging at ease in the
doors of the houses. More, on duty, are moving about briskly in squads,
with fixed bayonets. One is learning to ride a bicycle, and when he
falls off, as he does repeatedly, his comrades laugh at him and shout
derisive advice at him.

There are not many of the townsfolk in sight. Experience has taught us
that in any town not occupied by the enemy our appearance will be the
signal for an immediate gathering of the citizens, all flocking about
us, filled with a naive, respectful inquisitiveness, and wanting to know
where we have come from and to what place we are going. Here in this
stricken town not a single villager comes near us. A priest passes us,
bows deeply to us, and in an instant is gone round a jog in the street,
the skirts of his black robe flicking behind him. From upper windows
faces peer out at us--faces of women and children mostly. In nearly
every one of these faces a sort of cow-like bewilderment expresses
itself--not grief, not even resentment, but merely a stupefied
wonderment at the astounding fact that their town, rather than some
other town, should be the town where the soldiers of other nations come
to fight out their feud. We have come to know well that look these last
few days. So far as we have seen there has been no mistreatment of
civilians by the soldiers; yet we note that the villagers stay inside
the shelter of their damaged homes as though they felt safer there. A
young officer bustles up, spick and span in his tan boots and tan
gloves, and, finding us to be Americans and correspondents, becomes
instantly effusive. He has just come through his first fight, seemingly
with some credit to himself; and he is proud of the part he has played
and is pleased to talk about it. Of his own accord he volunteers to
lead us to the heights back of the town where the French defenses were
and where the hand-to-hand fighting took place.

As we trail along behind him in single file we pass a small paved court
before a stable and see a squad of French prisoners. Later we are to
see several thousand French prisoners