These thieves are practical too.  At Dinant, safes were opened with oxy-hydrogen blow-pipes, brought expressly for that purpose.  They have a partiality for safes, and in this connection the story of Luneville deserves recording.  A house near the station, belonging to M. Leclerc, was set on fire; the walls alone remained standing, and in one of them (on the second floor) a safe was left intact.  A non-commissioned officer, named Weill, with a party blew up the wall with dynamite, and the safe was extricated from the rubbish, carried to the station, put on a truck, and sent to Boche-land.  This man Weill, before the war, often came to Luneville on business with hops, was always well received there, made himself agreeable and knew everybody.  When the Germans settled in the unfortunate town he played a very important part, in spite of his low rank, in acting as agent, confidential clerk and guide to the Commanding Officer.

The robbers are also business-like in their transport arrangements as to carriages, military waggons, lorries, and motor cars.  At Compiegne, where the home of the Orsetti family was sacked, silver plate, jewellery and articles of value were collected in the courtyard of the chateau, then classified, registered, packed and “put into two carts, upon which they took care to place the Red Cross flag.”  We read in the note-book of a wounded German soldier, under medical treatment at Brussels, “A car has arrived at the hospital, bringing war booty, a piano, two sewing machines and all sorts of other things.”

In 1870, our clocks were in most demand; now, pianos form the attraction, and an immense number have been sent to Germany.  They are the article particularly favoured by the Boche ladies.  In a chateau retaken by our troops, an officer left behind a letter from his wife, in which is written, “A thousand thanks for the beautiful things you sent me.  The furs are magnificent, the rosewood furniture is exquisite; but don’t forget that Elsa is always waiting for her piano.”

These women, however, are not all as patient in waiting as Elsa.  They frequently come and choose for themselves, and preside over the packing.  They have been seen arriving in motor cars from Strasbourg or Metz, at many towns in Lorraine, at Luneville, Baccarat, and elsewhere.

All note-books, more or less, contain such items as these:  “Wholesale pillage and abundant loot,” “Everything destroyed or sacked,” “Looting going strong,” “Played the piano; looting going strong.”  This very German formula frequently occurs, “Methodically plundered.”  And again, “We have been allowed to plunder; we didn’t require to be told twice:  whole bales of loot.”

“Rethel. The Vandals could not have done better.” (The officer who makes this indiscreet admission and seems to protest against the thefts committed, writes on the following page:  “I have found a silk rainproof coat and a camera for Felix.”)