a quiet life and was looking for action, so I took him back with me to Antwerp.  The Belgians had made an inflexible rule that no photographers would be permitted with the army, but before Thompson had been in Antwerp twenty-four hours he had obtained permission from the Chief of the General Staff himself to take pictures when and where he pleased.  Thompson remained with me until the fall of Antwerp and the German occupation, and no man could have had a more loyal or devoted companion.  It is no exaggeration to say that he saw more of the campaign in Flanders than any individual, military or civilian—­“le Capitaine Thompson,” as he came to be known, being a familiar and popular figure on the Belgian battle-line.

There is one other person of whom passing mention should be made, if for no other reason than because his name will appear from time to time in this narrative.  I take pleasure, therefore, in introducing you to M. Marcel Roos, the young Belgian gentleman who drove my motor-car.  When war was declared, Roos, who belonged to the jeunesse doree of Brussels, gave his own ninety horse-power car to the Government and enlisted in a regiment of grenadiers.  Because he was as familiar with the highways and byways of Belgium as a housewife is with her kitchen, and because he spoke English, French, Flemish and German, he was detailed to drive the car which the Belgian Government placed at my disposal.  He was as big and loyal and good-natured as a St. Bernard dog and he was as cool in danger as Thompson—­which is the highest compliment I can pay him.  Incidentally, he was the most successful forager that I have ever seen; more than once, in villages which had apparently been swept clean of everything edible by the Belgians or the Germans, he produced quite an excellent dinner as mysteriously as a conjuror produces rabbits from a hat.

Now you must bear in mind that although one could get into Antwerp with comparative ease, it by no means followed that one could get out to the firing-line.  A long procession of correspondents came to Antwerp and remained a day or so and then went away again without once getting beyond the city gates.  Even if one succeeded in obtaining the necessary laisser-passer from the military Government, there was no way of reaching the front, as all the automobiles and all except the most decrepit horses had been requisitioned for the use of the army.  There was, you understand, no such thing as hiring an automobile, or even buying one.  Even the few people who had influence enough to retain their cars found them useless, as one of the very first acts of the military authorities was to commandeer the entire supply of petrol.  The bulk of the cars were used in the ambulance service or for purposes of transport, the army train consisting entirely of motor vehicles.  Staff officers, certain Government officials, and members of the diplomatic and consular corps were provided by the Government with automobiles and military drivers.  Every