comprehensive comparisons of just what
had been accomplished since that time.

On this trip I covered a large stretch of territory that until a few
weeks ago--some places only a few days ago--Germany had claimed as her
own by right of conquest. I walked through miles of trenches that only
last February I peered at from other trenches through a periscope;
cautiously, because they were then occupied by Germans; fearfully,
because any instant the periscope was likely to be struck from my eyes
and shattered by a hostile bullet.

The result of this long walk taught me many things. First in
importance was that my confidence in the superiority of German
trenches had been sadly misplaced. Since the trench fighting began
after the battle of the Marne we have been regaled in Paris with
stories of the marvelous German trenches. Humorists went so far as to
have them installed with baths and electric lights, but we have all
believed them to be dry, cement lined, with weather-proof tops and
comfortable sleeping quarters, and as hygienically perfect as the
German organization has ever made anything. This belief for me had
been borne out in accounts of the German trench life reported for
American newspapers and magazines.

What I can now say is that the correspondents who permitted this
legend to go over the world must have been grandly entertained by the
Germans in special sections of their trenches set aside as quarters
for the officers. I believe that these trenches, which I saw on this
trip, must compare favorably with any they hold, for they form part of
what is called "the labyrinth." Some of the most desperate fighting of
the war is still going on there, with the French literally blasting
the Germans out yard by yard, trench by trench. In fact, this trench
line was to have formed part of the new boundary line of Germany--they
dug themselves in to stay.

I entered these trenches following a long passage leading from the
rear of the original French lines. I thought I was still in the French
trenches, when suddenly I found myself in a mud ditch, much narrower
than any I had ever traversed. The bottom, instead of being corduroy
lined, was rough and uneven, making very hard walking. I said to the
Major with me, "You must have made these trenches in a hurry; they are
not so good as your others." He replied, "We did not make them. The
Germans are responsible."

Then we came to a wide place where a sign announced the headquarters