Two roughly clad natives
walked between the lines of bared bayonets. One was an old man who
walked proudly with his head erect. He was like a man going to a feast.
The other was bent almost double, and his hands were tied behind his
back.
A few minutes afterward a barred yellow van, under escort, came through
the square fronting the railroad station and disappeared behind a mass
of low buildings. From that direction we presently heard shots. Soon
the van came back, unescorted this time; and behind it came Belgians
with Red Cross arm badges, bearing on their shoulders two litters on
which were still figures covered with blankets, so that only the
stockinged feet showed.
Twice thereafter this play was repeated, with slight variations, and
each time we Americans, looking on from our front windows, drew our own
conclusions. Also, from the same vantage point we saw an automobile
pass bearing a couple of German officers and a little, scared-looking
man in a frock coat and a high hat, whose black mustache stood out like
a charcoal mark against the very white background of his face.
Pages:
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125