Over There | Page 6

strips of wood
served in its stead. Through this grille one could see the nave and altar,
in a miraculous and horrible confusion. It was as if house-breakers had
spent days in doing their best to produce a professional effect. The oak
pews were almost unharmed. Immediately behind the grille lay a great
bronze bell, about three feet high, covered with beautifully incised
inscriptions; it was unhurt.
Apparently nothing had been accomplished, in ten months, towards the
restoration of the church. But something was contemplated, perhaps
already started. A polished steel saw lay on one of the pews, but there
was no workman attached to it.
While I was writing some notes in the porch three little boys came up
and diligently stared at me.
"What dost thou want?" I said sharply to the tallest.
"Nothing," he replied.
Then three widows came up, one young, one young and beautiful, one
middle-aged.
We got back into the carriage.
"The village seems very deserted," I said to the driver.

"What would you?" he answered. "Many went. They had no home. Few
have returned."
All around were houses of which nothing remained but the stone walls.
The Germans had shown great prowess here, and the French still
greater. It was a village upon which rival commanders could gaze with
pride. It will remember the fourth and the fifth of September 1914.
We made towards Chambry. Chambry is a village which, like Meaux,
lies below the plain. Chambry escaped glory; but between it and Barcy,
on the intervening slope through which a good road runs, a battle was
fought. You know what kind of a battle it was by the tombs. These
tombs were very like the others--an oblong of barbed wire, a white flag,
a white cross, sometimes a name, more often only a number, rarely a
wreath. You see first one, then another, then two, then a sprinkling; and
gradually you perceive that the whole plain is dotted with gleams of
white flags and white crosses, so that graves seem to extend right away
to the horizon marked by lines of trees. Then you see a huge general
grave. Much glory about that spot!
And then a tomb with a black cross. Very disconcerting, that black
cross! It is different not only in colour, but in shape, from the other
crosses. Sinister! You need not to be told that the body of a German
lies beneath it. The whole devilishness of the Prussian ideal is
expressed in that black cross. Then, as the road curves, you see more
black crosses, many black crosses, very many. No flags, no names, no
wreaths on these tombs. Just a white stencilled number in the centre of
each cross. Women in Germany are still lying awake at nights and
wondering what those tombs look like.
Watching over all the tombs, white and black without distinction, are
notices: "Respect the Tombs." But the wheat and the oats are not
respecting the tombs. Everywhere the crops have encroached on them,
half-hiding them, smothering them, climbing right over them. In one
place wheat is ripening out of the very body of a German soldier.
Such is the nearest battlefield to Paris. Corporate excursions to it are

forbidden, and wisely. For the attraction of the place, were it given play,
would completely demoralise Meaux and the entire district.
In half an hour we were back at an utterly matter-of-fact railway station,
in whose cafe an utterly matter-of-fact and capable Frenchwoman gave
us tea. And when we reached Paris we had the news that a Staff
Captain of the French Army had been detailed to escort us to the front
and to show us all that could safely be seen. Nevertheless, whatever I
may experience, I shall not experience again the thrill which I had
when the weak and melancholy old driver pointed out the first tomb.
That which we had just seen was the front once.

II On The French Front
We were met at a poste de commandement by the officers in charge,
who were waiting for us. And later we found that we were always thus
met. The highest officer present--General, Colonel, or
Commandant--was at every place at our disposition to explain
things--and to explain them with that clarity of which the French alone
have the secret and of which a superlative example exists in the official
report of the earlier phases of the war, offered to the Anglo-Saxon
public through Reuter. Automobiles and chauffeurs abounded for our
small party of four. Never once at any moment of the day, whether
driving furiously along somewhat deteriorated roads in the car, or
walking about the land, did I lack a Staff officer who produced in me
the illusion that he was living solely in order to be of use to