Wounded and a Prisoner of War, by an Exchanged Officer

the careful evolutions of the ship, and from the darkness beyond a voice roared in the still night instructing the pilot with inappropriate oaths and words not kn

to them have seemed a strange procession. As the pipes were heard all down the steep, narrow str

e farther on, beyond the last few straggling houses, there is a signpost pointing to the Camp St Martin. Here, in a large field, to the left of the road, stood four lines of tents of the familiar pattern. The

of Etaples can be seen, a white splash where the coast-line disappears over the horizon; and on such a day as this, when the haze of the sun's heat makes al

ce, we could see far out to sea a large ship, escorted by a destroyer. As the ship came nearer, her three decks appeared black with innumerable dots as if covered by an enormous swarm of bees, and when she passed the narrow entrance of the

aper," a single sheet, printed in large characters on one side only, confined itsel

r before in history had a British regiment been inspected by a French General on the soil of France. The General was accompanied by two French Staff Officers, one of whom was acting as interpreter, and from the scrap of talk which reached my

s, were experiences which then held all the interest and excitement of novelty. From Aulnois to the village of Taisnières-en-Terache is a pleasant walk of an hour through a country

ccommodation was sufficient, and bille

res-en-

t 16,

regiment of Cuirassiers, and showed us the Commemoration medal which had been granted recently by the French Government to survivors of the campaign. We sat down in his parlo

he necessary pass. These passes were issued at the Mairie to all the inhabitants of the commune, and no one was allowed out after dark except for a definite purpose and at a stated hour which was to be marked on the pass. So it was fortunate that no one

ant, to arrange billets for the battalion. We started off on horseback in the cool of the mornin

very difficult, as many of the principal houses in the village were locked up, and no one could tell us if they would be available. After much perspiring and chattering in the hot sun, the distribution of accommodation for men and

a sentry belonging to the Royal Scots, who would not let us in without the password. Neither of us had the l

and our destination was to be not St Hilaire after all, but a vill

n arrived, tired and hungry after an early start and a dusty ten-mile walk, it was not long before dinners were c

e men was also to be taken that it might be exchanged for French money. A fat innkeeper offered to drive me into Avesnes, and after many delays and much conversation our "equipage" was ready. Captain Picton-Warlow, who had appointed himself escort to the expedition, looked with some dismay at the dilapidated conveyance. The horse was of the heavy-jointed, heavy-bellied variety that seems always to go more slowly than any living thing. The cart is hard to describe, although of a kind not easy to f

to get more speed out of the driver by explaining that we had to be in Avesnes in time to change some money before the banks closed met with no success. "The banks at Avesnes have been closed for three days," said he; but if the Messieurs wanted change, what need to go so far as Avesnes when he himself was able and willing to provide "la monnaie" for a hundred, two hundred, even a thousand francs. However, we required far more than our good friend could supply, and beside

On the way through the streets we had attracted a certain amount of attention, and as we neared the café the nucleus of a fair-sized procession began to accumulate. After our descent from the cart the procession became a rapidly swelling crowd. Telling our driver to remain at the café to wait orders,

t noir, behind him on a table in the hall we could see caps with red tabs and gold lace. "It is about time we were out of this," said Picton-Warlow. The domestic in evening clothes, doubtless thinking we were some kind of generals, said in answer to our request to be allowed to wait that we would be shown in at once. It was useless to explain that this was precisely what we wanted to avoid, and as I could get nothing out of the stupid man but "ces messieurs sont là qui vous attendent," we determined to beat a retreat. However, the obtuse domestic was equally determined that we should not escape. On the right side of the hall in which we stood were two large folding doors. Suddenly, and after the manner of Eastern fairy tales, these huge panelled doors were flung open. The servant had disappeared and we two stood alone, unannounced, on the threshold of a large drawing-room where "ces messieurs" were sitting in conclave. For an instant we stood speechless and motionless, taking in at a glance Madame la Sous-préfete in evening dress seated at the far end of the room, on her right General M., on the other side a brigade-major, two French officers of high rank, and a whole lot

inutes passed before the champagne arrived, ready poured out, the glasses carried in on a large tray by the daughter of the house, a self-possessed young lady of perhaps fourteen years of age. Close behind followed a younger brother in bare legs, short socks, and black knickerbocker suit, carrying a dish of cakes and biscuits. With a glass of champagne in each hand, our host crossed over to General M. and pledged a lengthy toast in somewhat similar style to the speech which had been made to me. "I drink," said he, "to the most noble and the most brave, as well as the most celebrated of British Generals." During the delivery of the address General M. looked most uncomfortable, especially when his qualifications and qualities were being enumerated; in reply, he made a very gracious bow to the Sous-préfet, and we sipped healths all round. After the champagne had been drunk the party becam

rom what this man said that the citizens of Avesnes had made great preparations to welcome the men, and that they were so disappointed on hearing that the troops were under orders to march farther north that General M., at the Sous-préfet's request, promised to march his men three times round the town. The whole population had turned out to witness the parade, and there did not seem to be much chance of retrieving the Receveur des Imp?ts from among the enthusiastic cheering mob that swelled around. Our new-found friend, the Fre

ut the English silver could not be changed, as the rate of exchange w

to be one of the gentlemen who in evening dress had taken part in the reception at the Sous-préfecture. He was now standing at the back of his shop in the middle of a group of stout, middle-aged, and severely respectable-looking citizens, to whom he was

respectful yet insistent curiosity. Here was a chance to see "le kilt" at close quarters. The good citizens (and cit

ous des plumes, de l'encre, et du papier à écrire?" "Mais ou, Monsieur, on va vous faire voir cela tout de suite

is parle donc pas si fort, je te dis que 'l'autre' comprend." While "le grand" was making his purchases, a French reservist, the only other customer in the shop, looked on with absorbing interest. The brave poilu could no longer contain his curiosity, and began to follow "le grand," pretending to take an interest in the pens, ink, and paper. Just as "le grand" was choosing an indelible pencil, the poilu ventured to stretch out a hand and feel the texture of his kilt. "Mais comme ils doivent av

charge, we started off for St Aubin, arriving back in time to pay out before night had fallen. Before turning in I went down to the end of the village

had left its mark most distinctly upon him. One could see how from early morning to late at night he had from childhood toiled over the hard earth which had drawn him down, until now his back was bent as if still at labour, even when at rest by the fireside. The two did not speak when I came in, but sat watching the fire. No other light was in the room. An occasional flicker from the hearth lit u

beds for the five of us, and they

k-so small that it was more cupboard than a room. It was here that the old people slept. The bed, which took up nearly the whole space, was covered with clean white sheets and an eider-down quilt,

and a stump of candle. After a very rapid shave, I hurried out into

the long low room, and hot café au lait, with round loaves of bread and fromage de Marolles, had been laid on the table. A large dish of steaming bacon ca

e marching down one of the chaussées pavées which are a special feature of Belgium and Northern France. The chaussée, or centre of the road, is paved with large uneven cobbles, on a width of eight to ten yards. On each side of the paved roadway a macadamised surface, about three yards b

al-dust, was more unpleasant than before. We halted for a few minutes just beyond the bridge over the railway, where British troops were unloading guns from long lines of trucks. When I turned from watching the station I found that my

d at first inexplicable: it was as if a tornado had visited the spot. Where a row of cottages had been was now a shapeless mass of ruins. The ground was covered with huge trees lying across each other, the branches fresh and gr

broad, stretched away on both sides of the road as far as the eye could see, and probably encircled the whole of Maubeuge. The road itself was blocked by barbed-wire entanglements, a space being left in the middle wi

hacking off branches, cutting off the tops of trees and blowing some up by the roots. A field telep

ny la Chaussée, a long straggling village, one

hin, watery soup with slices of bread soaked

ubriously the prospect of a German invasion, thus showing in the light of subsequent events that she appreciated the

column which was moving in the direction of Mons, distant some ten to twelve miles. Our

and then turned to the left down a side road which runs along the railway line, opposite

nd cheese, which did not, however, go far among so many. Then came a woman with two jugs of what looked like wine and water. The first man to reach her, instead of drinking the stuff, washed his mouth with it and spat on to the road, and all

lets and some eggs, and were sitting half-way through this welcome meal when A-- M--, with some other officers, having discovered our retreat, entered and ordered lunch, but with little success. The two pork cutlets and six fried eggs had apparen

s had settled down to sleep in the ditch on one side of the r

women and children, were continu

railway line for a short way along a narrow paved road leading to the little village of Hyon, situated on a hill immediately

illets, and cooking-pots stood smoking in the village street

floating over the village, about 2000 feet above our heads, spyin