With
the sun setting in a gorgeous glow, and with hedges in full blossom,
Flanders was transformed for once that evening into a land of beauty.
About ten o'clock we heard a hum of an aeroplane overhead and then a
series of explosions, like those of a heavy gun. Flashes were seen in
the direction of a French town where there were great steel works and
we drove home that way. The inhabitants of the country and the hamlets
along the road were all out of doors gazing at the sky, and as we
entered the bombed town we found everybody quite excited. Eight bombs
had been dropped in the place, but none of them had any effect,
except to rouse the populace to a condition of excitement.
Our headlights were burning, and suspicion was evidently aroused as to
the possibility of this being connected with the attack, for we were
suddenly halted by a blue-coated French soldier stepping in front of
the car and holding his gun above his head in the usual way while
eight other French soldiers surrounded us. Some of them pointed
bayonets threateningly at us while we were all covered by rifles. It
was quite a picture. Our headlights shone brilliantly on the three men
in front, while the faces of the others, nearly all with moustachios
and goatees, lit up by the moon and the glare of the red lights from
the works, looked most ferocious. The slender, flashing French
bayonets seemed to be at least three feet long.
Pages:
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142