of the revolver, demanded where I was going, and why I had
run away from Aerschot. They said that the whole of Aerschot was now on
fire, because the son of the Burgomaster had killed a General. Finally
they searched me from head to foot, and I heard them discuss the
question of my fate.

Finally the non-commissioned officer told me that I could continue on my
way; that they would certainly take care of me in Aerschot, as I had
been firing at Germans, and they would shoot me when I arrived. I would
have liked better to return to Louvain, but with an imperious gesture he
pointed out my road to Aerschot, and I continued. On arriving within a
few hundred meters of the town I was arrested once more.

I forgot to tell you that of all the houses which I passed between
Louvain and Aerschot, there were only a few left intact. Upon these the
Germans had written in chalk in the German language: "Please spare. Good
people. Do not burn." Lying along the road I saw many dead horses
putrefying. There were also to be seen pigs, goats, and cows which had
nothing to eat, and which were howling like wild beasts. Not a soul was
to be seen in the houses or in the streets. Everything was empty.

I was then arrested when a short distance from Aerschot. There were with
me two or three families from Sichem, a village between Diest and
Aerschot. We remained in the fields alongside the road, while the
Prussian regiments with their artillery continued to pass by. When the
artillery had passed we were marched at the point of the bayonet to the
church in Aerschot. On arrival at the church the families of Sichem
(there were at least twenty small children) were permitted to continue
on their way, and the non-commissioned officer, delighted that I could
speak German, permitted me to go to my aunt's house.

The aspect of the town was terrible. Not more than half the houses were
standing. In the first three streets which the Germans traversed there
was not a single house left. There was not a house in the town but had
been pillaged. All doors had been burst open. There was nothing, nothing
left. The stench in the streets was insupportable.

I then went home, or, rather, I should say, I went to the house where my
father had always been boarding. You know, perhaps, that my mother died
twelve years ago. I did not find my father, but according to what the
people told me he had been arrested, and, with five other Aerschot men,
taken to Germany--I do not k