It was with a feeling of repulsion amounting almost to nausea that we left what had once been Aerschot behind us.  The road leading to Louvain was alive with soldiery, and we were halted every few minutes by German patrols.  Had not the commanding officer in Aerschot detailed two bicyclists to accompany us I doubt if we should have gotten through.  Whedbee had had the happy idea of bringing along a thousand packets of cigarettes—­the tonneau of the car was literally filled with them—­and we tossed a packet to every German soldier that we saw.  You could have followed our trail for thirty miles by the cigarettes we left behind us.  As it turned out, they were the means of saving us from being detained within the German lines.

Thanks to our American flags, to the nature of our mission, and to our wholesale distribution of cigarettes, we were passed from outpost to outpost and from regimental headquarters to regimental headquarters until we reached Louvain.  Here we came upon another scene of destruction and desolation.  Nearly half the city was in ashes.  Most of the principal streets were impassable from fallen masonry.  The splendid avenues and boulevards were lined on either side by the charred skeletons of what had once been handsome buildings.  The fronts of many of the houses were smeared with crimson stains.  In comparison to its size, the Germans had wrought more widespread destruction in Louvain than did the earthquake and fire combined in San Francisco.  The looting had evidently been unrestrained.  The roads for miles in either direction were littered with furniture and bedding and clothing.  Such articles as the soldiers could not carry away they wantonly destroyed.  Hangings had been torn down, pictures on the walls had been smashed, the contents of drawers and trunks had been emptied into the streets, literally everything breakable had been broken.  This is not from hearsay, remember; I saw it with my own eyes.  And the amazing feature of it all was that among the Germans there seemed to be no feeling of regret, no sense of shame.  Officers in immaculate uniforms strolled about among the ruins, chatting and laughing and smoking.  At one place a magnificent mahogany dining-table had been dragged into the middle of the road and about it, sprawled in carved and tapestry-covered chairs, a dozen German infantrymen were drinking beer.

Just as there are two versions of the destruction of Aerschot, so there are two versions, though in this case widely different, of the events which led up to the destruction of Louvain.  It should be borne in mind, to begin with, that Louvain was not destroyed by bombardment or in the heat of battle, for the Germans had entered it unopposed, and had been in undisputed possession for several days.  The Germans assert that a conspiracy, fomented by the burgomaster, the priests and many of the leading citizens, existed among the townspeople, who planned to suddenly fall upon and exterminate the garrison.  They