, that we might describe the destruction caused by the
Germans in unfortified towns. Although I have given a parole to say
nothing concerning the movement of the troops or to mention certain
points that I visited, I am now permitted to send a report of a part of
my experiences.

We crossed the entire battlefield of the Marne, passed directly behind
the lines of the battle still raging on the Aisne, accidentally getting
under fire for an entire afternoon, and lunching in a hotel to the
orchestra of bursting shells, one end of the building being blown away
during the bombardment. We witnessed a battle between an armored French
monoplane and a German battery, and also had the experience of being
accused of being German spies by two men wearing the English uniform,
who, on failing to account for their own German accent, were speedily
taken away under guard with their "numbers up," as the French Commandant
expressed what awaited them.

On account of our exceptional credentials we were able to see more
actual war than many correspondents, who when they learned that permits
to go to the front were not forthcoming, went anyway, usually falling
into the hands of the military authorities before getting far. In fact,
getting arrested has been the chief occupation of the war correspondents
in this war, even our accidental view of the fighting being sufficient
to cause our speedy return to Paris under parole.

Going over the battlefield of the Marne, we found the battle had
followed much the same tactics as a cyclone, in that in some places
nothing, not even the haystacks, had been disturbed, while in others
everything, the villages, roads, and fields, had been utterly devastated
by shells. We talked with the inhabitants of every village and always
heard the same story--that during occupation the Germans, evidently
having been ordered to be on their good behavior after the Belgian
atrocities, had offered little trouble to the civilians, and had
confined their activities to looting and wasting the provisions. Also
that when retreating they had destroyed all the food they were unable to
carry.

Our baptism of fire appropriately came while we were in a church. At
noon of the second day we motored into a deserted village, and were
stopped by a sentry who acknowledged our credentials, but warned us if
we intended to proceed to beware of bullets. But there was not a hostile
sound to alarm us.

As we drove carelessly over the brow of