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By contrast with the harried country from which we had
just emerged this seemed a small Paradise of peace. Over there in
Belgium all the conditions of life had been disorganized and undone,
where they had not been wrecked outright. Over here in Germany the calm
was entirely unruffled.
It shamed us to come as we were into such surroundings. For our car was
littered with sausage skins and bread crusts, and filth less pleasant to
look at and stenches of many sorts abounded. Indeed I shall go further
and say that it stank most fearsomely. As for us, we felt ourselves to
be infamous offenses against the bright, clean day. We had not slept in
a bed for five nights or had our clothes off for that time. For three
days none of us had eaten a real meal at a regular table. For two days
we had not washed our faces and hands.
The prisoners of war went on to Cologne to be put in a laager, but we
were bidden to detrain at Aix-la-Chapelle. We climbed off, a dirty,
wrinkled, unshaven troop of vagabonds, to find ourselves free to go
where we pleased.


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