e great trees by the roadside were mined. This was done by cutting a
groove three or four inches broad and of an equal depth and filling it
with packages of explosive. I suppose the purpose was to block the road in
case of retreat. Only a few of the mines had been set off.

Passing through several towns that no longer existed we came to Etain,
where many buildings were still standing though completely gutted. The
cellars had been converted into dugouts with passages and ramifications
added. We were billeted in some German huts on the outskirts. They were
well dug in and comfortably fitted out, so we were ready to stay over a
few days, as we had been told we should, but at midnight orders were sent
round to be prepared to march out early.

The country was lovely and gave little sign of the Boche occupation except
that it was totally deserted and when we passed through villages all the
signs were in German. There was but little originality displayed in naming
the streets--you could be sure that you would find a Hindenburg Strasse
and a Kronprinz Strasse, and there was usually one called after the
Kaiser. The mile-posts at the crossroads had been mostly replaced, but
occasionally we found battered metal plaques of the Automobile Touring
Club of France. Ever since we left Verdun we had been meeting bands of
released prisoners, Italians and Russians chiefly, with a few French and
English mingled. They were worn and underfed--their clothes were in rags.
A few had combined and were pulling their scanty belongings on little
cars, such as children make out of soap-boxes. The motor-trucks returning
to our base after bringing up the rations would take back as many as they
could carry.

We came across scarcely any civilians until we reached Bouligny, a once
busy and prosperous manufacturing town. A few of the inhabitants had been
allowed to remain throughout the enemy occupation and small groups of
those that had been removed were by now trickling in. The invader had
destroyed property in the most ruthless manner, and the buildings were
gutted. The domestic habits of the Hun were always to me inexplicable--he
evidently preferred to live in the midst of his own filth, and many times
have I seen recently captured chateaux that had been converted into
veritable pigsties.

The inhabitants went wild at our entry--in the little villages they came
out carrying wreaths and threw confetti and flowers as they shouted the
"Marseillaise." T