Beyond the town, on either side of the road, was a series of dumps, collecting stations, R.E. parks, workshops, and woodyards—­Mastenlager, Pi-Park, Gruppenwegebaustofflager, Pferdesammelstelle, and others.  Then a German military cemetery, beautifully kept and planted all over with shrubs and flowers.  We had never seen a military cemetery like it before.

A bend of the road, as it topped a gentle slope, revealed an expanse of smooth green fields dotted with groups of trees.  It did our eyes good to see trees that were alive and unharmed.  Their foliage was autumn-tinted—­until now we had hardly realized that autumn was with us.  A placid river flowed through the meadows.  On the far shore was a town, beyond it a hill crowned by a fine chateau.

As we walked on, the scattered houses drew closer and closer together until they formed continuous rows.  A civilian passed by, pushing a wheelbarrow that clattered over the cobbles.  Then there followed a woman with a bundle on her back.

There was something peculiar about the houses.  They were not damaged in the same way as the others we had seen.  They were all roofless and floorless, but the walls were unharmed except for occasional holes and scars.  Then we suddenly realized that the Germans had stripped the entire street of all woodwork—­of floor-boards, of beams and rafters, of doors and window-frames, leaving only the bare, empty shells of brick.

We turned a corner and entered another street in which the houses had not been rifled.  Several were occupied by civilians.

Before us, in an open field, lay our camp.  Scribbled in chalk on a piece of board nailed across a broken window were the words: 

“Der Friede wird stuendlich erwartet.” [Peace is expected every hour.]

X

THE ARMISTICE

Ever since we had received news of the German peace offers and President Wilson’s replies, rumours had multiplied enormously—­the Kaiser had been assassinated, the German Fleet had surrendered, German troops were deserting in masses, German submarines were floating on the surface and flying white flags, a German Republic had been proclaimed with Liebknecht as President.

One evening after a day of unusually hard labour, we were lying exhausted in our tent.  Suddenly the flap was thrown open, a man pushed his head in and shouted excitedly: 

“I say, you chaps, the Armistice has been signed—­it’s official!”

“Who says so?  Did you see it in print?”

“No, I just heard it from a despatch rider.  He got it from his C.O.—­it’s official.”

“Don’t believe it.  We’ve heard that tale too often.”

“All right, then, don’t!” the man shouted angrily and walked off.

No sooner had he gone when our Corporal said: 

“It wouldn’t surprise me if he were right.  In any case, even if the Germans haven’t signed yet, they’ll have to do so soon.  Bulgaria, Turkey, and Austria have collapsed.  The Germans have decreasing resources and no reserves.  The Allies have increasing resources and unlimited reserves.  The longer the war goes on, the more desperate is Germany’s position.  She must accept our terms, she can’t help herself.”