The spontaneous
manner in which the two of us rose and rushed at each other with
outstretched arms would have done credit to native born Frenchmen.
As we approached the front, the long straight French roads gave way to
winding narrow ways, frequently paved with cobble stones called pave.
The country became flat, and the roadside ditches were filled to the
brim with water. That we were within the sphere of military operations
became more and more evident. Motor cars carrying officers passed
frequently; motor transports carrying food and fodder rumbled along
the roads or were parked in the outskirts of villages or in village
squares; motor ambulance convoys were drawn up in front of hospitals,
and, in general, we felt that we were nearing the real seat of
operations, the front line.
It was a drive of a hundred miles to the little town which was to be
our headquarters for nine long months, and I remember the thrill that
I had when we first saw the effects of shell fire--a hole about two
feet in diameter in the bricks above the door of the Hotel de Ville.
As we later discovered, the village authorities had decided not to
repair that hole but to leave it as a memorial of the day when the
Germans had been driven from the town and had fired some shells back
into it, killing a dozen of the inhabitants.
After reporting to the corps headquarters in town, we were instructed
to attach ourselves to No.
Pages:
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86