been injured and
that no women had been molested.
As we approached Montmirail, we passed a beautiful monument, dedicated
to Napoleon, who had directed a battle from that spot in 1814, one
hundred years ago. A golden eagle surmounted a column which stood upon
a stepped base. The fields about were plowed by shells and yesterday
one shell had knocked a big chunk off the side of the column about
half-way up. Leaning against the base, in an attitude of infinite
weariness, sat a dead French soldier.
* * * * *
Much of the dismal aftermath of battle seems to be concentrated along
the highways, which are punctuated by dead men and dead horses thrown
into the gutters to be out of the way. Long trains of horse-drawn
wagons plod wearily along toward the front; the towns through which
they pass are battered and nearly deserted; the poplars which line
the roads are broken and gashed by shells, and the fields on either
side are marred by shell craters and by the trenches of the burying
squads.
We entered the shattered town of Montmirail at nightfall. Long lines
of ammunition wagons were encamped for the night just outside and the
town itself was packed with troops. The place had been for eighteen
consecutive hours under a heavy artillery bombardment. The houses were
battered, the streets were pitted by shells, and there remained in the
whole village not a single unbroken window. There had been much
fighting in the streets and the place had been alternately taken and
retaken by Germans and French.
All accommodation in the town had by one blanket order been
requisitioned for the military. We plowed our way through rain and mud
to the office of the Mayor who kindly assigned us to rooms, giving us
written orders on the owners, who turned out to be a quaint old French
shirtmaker and his wife. Hall and I went scouting around through the
place and managed to get hold of a fourteen-sou loaf of bread and two
bottles of wine which served as supper, thus saving our own precious
supplies for future emergencies. Before returning, we visited two
cafes which were jammed with soldiery, from whom we managed to glean a
lot of very interesting information. They all spoke with the greatest
respect, admiration, and affection of their field artillery, "le
soixante-quinze."
* * * * *
Provisions were very scarce. We saw a Turco, who had apparently lost
his regiment and who spoke
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