That, however, though of consuming interest to me at the moment, was but
a detail--an exception to prove the standing rule. One place we dined
with a Rittmeister's mess; and while we sat, eating of their midday
ration of thick pea soup with sliced sausages in it, some of the younger
officers stood; also they let us stretch our wearied legs on their
mattresses, which were ranged seven in a row on the parlor floor of a
Belgian house, where from a corner a plaster statue of Joan of Arc gazed
at us with her plaster eyes.
Common soldiers offered repeatedly to share their rye-bread sandwiches
and bottled beer with us. Not once, but a dozen times, officers of
various rank let us look at their maps and use their field glasses; and
they gave us advice for reaching the zone of actual fighting and swapped
gossip with us, and frequently regretted that they had no spare mounts
or spare automobiles to loan us.
We attributed a good deal of this to the inherent kindliness of the
German gentleman's nature; but more of it we attributed to a newborn
desire on the part of these men to have disinterested journalists see
with their own eyes the scope and result of the German operations, in
the hope that the truth regarding alleged German atrocities might reach
the outside world and particularly might reach America.
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