Put either
of these two in the rags of a beggar or the motley of a Pantaloon, and
at a glance you would know him for a leader. Considering that we were
supposed to be at the front on this evening at Laon, the food was good,
there being a soup, and the invariable veal on which a German buttresses
the solid foundations of his dinner, a salad and fruit, red wine and
white wine and brandy. Also, there were flies amounting in numbers to a
great multitude. The talk, like the flies, went to and fro about the
table; and always it was worth hearing, since it dealt largely with
first-hand experiences in the very heart of the fighting.
Yet I must add that not all the talk was talk of war. In peaceful Aix-
la-Chapelle, whence we had come, the people knew but one topic. Here,
on the forward frayed edge of the battle line, the men who had that day
played their part in battle occasionally spoke of other things. I
recall there was a discussion between Captain von Theobald, of the
Artillery, and Major Humplmayer, of the Automobile Corps, on the merits
of a painting that filled one of the panels in the big, handsome,
overdecorated hall.
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