After leaving the Headquarters of General Petain we were held up for some time at a level crossing and watched the busy little train puffing along, carrying towards Verdun stores, munitions and men.  This level crossing had been the scene of active fighting; on each side were numerous graves, and the sentinels off duty were passing from one to the other picking a dead leaf or drawing a branch of trailing vine over the resting places of their comrades.

Above our heads circled “les guipes” the wasps of the French Army.  They had been aroused by the appearance of a Taube and were preparing to sting had the Taube waited or made any further attempt to proceed over the French lines.  However, deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, it turned and fled.

It is unwise, however, to stir up the “wasps of France”; they followed it, and later in the day we heard that it had been brought down near Verdun.

We were now in the centre of activity of the army defending Verdun.  On every hand we saw artillery parks, ammunition parks, and regiments resting, whilst along the road a long line of camions passed unceasingly.  During the whole length of my stay on the French Front I only saw one regiment marching.  Everywhere the men are conveyed in the camions, and are thus spared the fatigue which would otherwise be caused by the intense heat and the white dust.  There are perhaps only two things that can in any way upset the perfect indifference to difficulties of the French trooper:  he hates to walk, and he refuses to be deprived of his “pinard.”  The men of the French Army have named their red wine “pinard,” just as they call water “la flotte,” always, however, being careful to add that “la flotte” is excellent “for washing one’s feet.”

As we passed through the Headquarters of General Nivelle, he sent down word to us not to wait to call on him then, but to proceed at once to Verdun as later the passage would become more difficult.  He kindly sent down to us one of the officers of his staff to act as escort.  The officer sat by our chauffeur, warning him of the’ dangerous spots in the road which the Germans had the habit of “watering” from time to time with “marmites,” and ordering him to put on extra speed.  Our speed along the road into Verdun averaged well over a mile a minute.

The “Movies” Under Fire

Within range of the German guns, probably not more than four or five kilometres from Verdun, we came on a line of men waiting their turn to go into the cinema.  After all there was no reason “de s’en faire,” and if they were alive they decided they might as well be happy and amused.  Just before entering the gate of Verdun we passed a number of ambulances, some of them driven by the American volunteers.  These young Americans have displayed splendid heroism in bringing in the wounded under difficult conditions.  Many of them have been mentioned in despatches, and have received from France the Croix de Guerre.  I also saw an ambulance marked “Lloyds.”