es could blow
these towns off the map if they wished, they do not bombard them save
for some specific object, as to do so would be to kill many of their
own people. Nor does it pay to waste ammunition on individual enemies.
But if an observation officer sees enough Germans in a group to make
the expenditure of ammunition worth while, he will telephone to one of
the batteries and a well-placed shell tells the Germans that street
gatherings are strictly _verboten_.

"Sorry that you weren't here yesterday," the lieutenant remarked. "We
had a little entertainment of our own. Do you see that square?" and he
swung the barrel of the telescope so that it commanded a cobble-paved
_place_, with a small fountain in the centre, flanked on three sides
by rows of red-brick dwellings.

"I see it plainly," I told him.

"The Boches are evidently billeting their men in those houses," he
continued. "Yesterday morning an army baker's cart drove into the
square and the soldiers came piling out of the houses to get their
bread ration. There was quite a crowd of them around the cart, so I
phoned back to the gunners and they dropped a shell bang into the
square. The soldiers scattered, of course, and the horse hitched to
the cart took fright and ran away. The cart tipped over and the bread
spilled out. After a few minutes the men came out of their cellars and
began to gather up the bread, so we shelled 'em again. The next time
they sent out the women to pick up the loaves. We let them
alone--French women, you understand--until I saw the Huns beating the
women and taking the bread away from them. That made me mad and for
ten minutes we strafed that section of the town good and plenty. It
was very amusing while it lasted. And," he added wistfully, "we don't
get much amusement here."

* * * * *

Darkness had fallen, when cold and tired, we climbed stiffly into the
waiting car. As we tore down the long, straight road which led to
General Headquarters the purple velvet of the eastern sky was stabbed
by fiery flashes, many of them, and, borne on the night wind, came the
sullen growling of the guns. As I stared out into the flame-pricked
darkness there passed before me in imaginary review that endless
stream of dauntless and determined men--mud-caked infantrymen,
gunners, despatch riders, sappers, pioneers, motor-drivers,
road-menders, mechanics, railway-builders--who form that wall of steel
which Britain has thr