German lines not far
away, and shrapnel began falling in a field on the other side of the
road. The Germans were evidently trying to locate the battery in that
way. Most of the shrapnel burst in the air and did no damage, but some
of it fell to the ground before bursting and sent up great fountains of
the soft black earth with a cloud of gray smoke with murky yellow
splotches in it. It was not a reassuring sight, and I was perfectly
willing to go away from there, but being a true diplomat, I remembered
that the King ranked me by several degrees in the hierarchy, and that he
must give the sign of departure. Kings seem powerless to move at such
times, however, so we stayed and talked while the nasty things popped.
His Majesty and I climbed to a dignified position on a pile of rubbish,
whence we could get a good view up and down the road, and see the French
guns which were in action again.

A little later Ferguson, who was standing not far away, got hit with a
little sliver and had a hole punched in the shoulder of his overcoat. It
stopped there, however, and did not hurt him in the least. He looked
rather astonished, pulled the little stranger from the hole it had made,
looked at it quizzically, and then put it in his pocket and went on
watching the French guns. I think he would have been quite justified in
stopping the battle and showing his trophy to everybody on both sides.

The King was much interested in all the news from Brussels, how the
people were behaving, what the Germans were doing, whether there were
crowds on the streets, and how the town felt about the performances of
the army.

He realised what has happened to his little country, and made me realise
it for the first time. He said that France was having a hard time, but
added that perhaps a sixth of her territory was invaded and occupied,
but that every bit of his country had been ravaged and devastated with
the exception of the little bit by the sea coast and Antwerp itself,
which was getting pretty rough treatment, in order to put it in shape to
defend itself. He spoke with a great deal of feeling. And no wonder!

Then to change the tone of the conversation, he looked down at my
pretty patent leather shoes, and asked in a bantering way whether those
were a part of my fighting kit, and where I had got them. I answered: "I
got them several months ago to make my first bow to Your Majesty, at
Laeken!" He looked around for a bit at the soggy fields, the ma