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Transcript.
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THE ROAD WAS OPEN.
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France's wonderful highways which saved her in this war are as crooked
as a jig saw puzzle, but there are excellent maps which show every road
in the country. Up near the fighting front, however, the new military
roads are as broad and as good as some of the old highways which have
survived since the days of the Romans and more than a map is needed if
you want to remain in France.
A few days ago two American newspaper correspondents were travelling
from one French city to another, the shortest course, according to the
same excellent maps, taking them close back of the French lines. All day
there had been a blinding snow, it was deep and loose on the ground, and
the car was going as fast as possible for safety.
Temporary wooden signs at cross roads showed the direction of different
camps. The road plunged through a forest, occasionally they passed a
soldier plodding through the snow, then emerged along the base of a
ridge honeycombed with dug-outs and bombproofs on its sheltered side. It
was plain that they were close to the front. Soldiers peered from
doorways at the car skidding through the swirling snow; then the huts
ceased. For a mile the correspondents ran behind a flapping wall of
canvas camouflage, with barbwire entanglements on the other side of the
road. The map indicated they were on the right road.
Then they came to a barbwire affair like a turnstile lying on its side
in the middle of the road, and stopped. They could not see a hundred
feet through the fog and snow, but could hear the muffled boom of nearby
cannon. The map showed only three kilometers ahead the main highway to
the city they were headed for. They did not know that the German
trenches were only two kilometers ahead and that the snow was the only
reason the Boche had not seen them and favored them with a shot. Two
French officers came along and in his best French one of the
correspondents asked if they could get through on that road.
"Yes, if you speak German," was the answer with a laugh and in excellent
English.
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THERE'S A REASON.
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"For Pete's sake, Ed, quit tryin' to pick your teeth with your fork!
Mind your manners, man!"
"Aw, go easy, Mike; how'n'ell am I goin' to buy a toothpick, with w
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