ng man on
horseback, wearing several orders, surrounded by a staff of some ten or
twelve others, was riding toward us through the cabbages, waving angrily
at us to stop. The whole crowd surrounded the car and demanded hotly how
we dared venture out of town by this road. While they were industriously
blowing us up, the Supreme Potentate observed the sign on the front of
the car, GESANDTSCHAFT DER VEREINIGTEN STAATEN, whereupon he came
straightway to salute and kept it up. The others all saluted most
earnestly and we had to unlimber and take off our hats and bow as
gracefully as we could, all hunched up inside a little racing car. Then
I handed out our pass, which the chief of staff read aloud to the
assembled notables. They were all most amiable, warned us to proceed
with great caution, driving slowly, stopping every hundred yards, and to
tear back toward town if popping began in our immediate neighbourhood.
They were so insistent on our not getting in the way of bullets that I
had to assure them, in my best rusty German, that we were getting into
this ragged edge of their old war simply because it was necessary for
business reasons and not because of any ardent desire to have holes shot
through us. They all laughed and let us go our way with a final caution.
From that time on we were in the midst of German patrols. We religiously
observed the officers' advice to drive slowly and keep a lookout. Five
minutes later we began to meet peasants running away from their homes in
the direction of Brussels. They reported fighting near Malines, and said
that we were running straight into it. They were a badly frightened
lot. We decided that the only thing to do was to go ahead, feeling our
way carefully, and come back or wait if things got too hot for us. We
were stopped several times by troops crossing the road to get into
trenches that were already prepared, and once had to wait while a big
gun was put in place. It was a ticklish business to come around a turn
in the road and light on a hundred men sneaking along behind a hedge
with their rifles ready for instant action. Just beyond Eppeghem we met
a troop of cavalry convoying a high cart filled with peasants, who had
evidently been taken prisoners. The officer in charge was a nervous
chap, who came riding at us, brandishing his revolver, which he had tied
to the pommel of his saddle with a long cord. He was most indignant that
we had been allowed to come this far and reluctantly