As the general who conducted me had
influenza, and I was trying to keep my nerves in good order, it was
rather a silent drive. The car, as are all military cars--and there
are no others--was driven by a soldier-chauffeur by whose side sat the
general's orderly. Through the narrow gate, with its drawbridge
guarded by many sentries, we went out into the open country.
The road, considering the constant traffic of heavy transports and
guns, was very fair. It is under constant repair. At first, during
this severe winter, on account of rain and snow, accidents were
frequent. The road, on both sides, was deep in mud and prolific of
catastrophe; and even now, with conditions much better, there are
numerous accidents. Cars all travel at frightful speed. There are no
restrictions, and it is nothing to see machines upset and abandoned in
the low-lying fields that border the road.
Conditions, however, are better than they were. Part of the
conservation system has been the building of narrow ditches at right
angles to the line of the road, to lead off the water. Every ten feet
or so there is a gutter filled with fagots.
I had been in the general's car before. The red-haired Fleming with
the fierce moustache who drove it was a speed maniac, and passing the
frequent sentries was only a matter of the password.
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