I did not try to. I was cold and
tired, and the red sunset had turned to deep purple and gold. The guns
had ceased. Over all the countryside brooded the dreadful peace of
sheer exhaustion and weariness. And in the air, high overhead, a
German plane sailed slowly home.
* * * * *
Sentries halted us on the way back holding high lanterns that set the
bayonets of their guns to gleaming. Faces pressed to the glass, they
surveyed us stolidly, making sure that we were as our passes described
us. Long lines of marching men turned out to let us pass. As darkness
settled down, the location of the German line, as it encircled Ypres,
was plainly shown by floating _fusees_. In every hamlet reserves were
lining up for the trenches, dark masses of men, with here and there a
face thrown into relief as a match was held to light a cigarette. Open
doors showed warm, lamp-lit interiors and the glow of fires.
I sat back in the car and listened while the officers talked together.
They were speaking of General Joffre, of his great ability, of his
confidence in the outcome of the war, and of his method, during those
winter months when, with such steady fighting, there had been so
little apparent movement. One of the officers told me that General
Joffre had put his winter tactics in three words:
"I nibble them.
Pages:
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246