I do not vouch for this story; but we heard it very frequently. Now,
from one of the young officers who had escorted us into the trench, we
were hearing it all over again, with elaborations, when a shrapnel shell
from the town dropped and burst not far behind us, and rifle bullets
began to plump into the earthen bank a little to the right of us; so we
promptly went away from there.
We were noncombatants and nowise concerned in the existing controversy;
but we remembered the plaintive words of the Chinese Minister at
Brussels when he called on our Minister--Brand Whitlock--to ascertain
what Whitlock would advise doing in case the advancing Germans fired on
the city. Whitlock suggested to his Oriental brother that he retire to
his official residence and hoist the flag of his country over it,
thereby making it neutral and protected territory.
"But, Mister Whitlock," murmured the puzzled Chinaman, "the cannon--he
has no eyes!"
We rode back to Laon through the falling dusk. The western sky was all
a deep saffron pink--the color of a salmon's belly--and we could hear
the constant blaspheming of the big siege guns, taking up the evening
cannonade along the center.
Pages:
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314