A VISIT TO BACCARAT
One day I went into a little general store in Baccarat to make a
few purchases. Having just arrived at this sector, and not knowing
anything about the place, I engaged the woman who owned the store in
conversation regarding the occupation of the town by the Germans. My
interest was due chiefly to the fact that this particular store, while
located in a devastated village, had, from all outward appearances,
escaped damage.
It seems that just after the Boches occupied the town word was given
out that Paris had fallen and was then in the hands of the Germans. The
telephone and telegraph stations were all controlled by the enemy, and,
of course, the statement was accepted as a fact, for no information
could be obtained other than that which the Germans wished to give.
On the fifth day of the occupation a German captain, speaking perfect
French, entered the store and inquired for the proprietor. When
informed that he was speaking to her, he demanded:
“Madam, do you speak German?”
“No,” replied the woman. “I do not speak German, but I understand it
quite well.” The officer then asked if she spoke English, to which she
answered “No.”
“Well, if you do not speak it, you surely understand it?” he persisted,
but she replied in the negative. The officer thanked her, and, without
further comment, turned and left the place. The woman thought this a
most unusual occurrence, especially as, without explanation, he left
as abruptly as he had entered. Later she learned that he did the same
thing all through this district, asking people precisely the same
questions and leaving without comment, no matter what their answers
were.
In due course the reason for the officer’s visit came to light. The
German command had learned that on the day of their defeat in the
battle of the Marne, one of the causes therefor had been the flanking
movement of the English. This information produced such an intense
feeling of hatred that this officer was sent around town to find out
if there were any people who spoke English or even understood it. If
such were found their location was set down and reported to the German
command.
The pressure on the town, however, soon took on such proportions that
it was seen that it would have to be given up by the Germans. So the
compiled information of the officer’s investigation was reviewed and
those people who spoke or understood English were visited by the Torch
Squad and everything they owned was burned.
Baccarat was by no means the only place that received this sort of
treatment, for one has only to take a trip along the eastern front of
France to see a great many similar instances of just what took place
at Baccarat. Wanton destruction seemed to be the idea of the German
command. Fruit trees were cut down because it would be years before
France could grow them again.
Houses were blown to pieces by the artillery when the civil population
had left Baccarat. The churches seemed always to be the first thing
razed to the ground by enemy fire. Of what military advantage this
could be, I have never been able to see, but I have heard a theory
advanced that seems plausible. The German command knew that the
peasants of France were a hard-working people, occupied with their
farms constantly; that they are also a home people and _know_ very
little of the outside world. Sunday they believed should be set aside
for worship and rest. Brought up in this religious way, men, women and
children attend church on Sunday with unfailing regularity.
I saw the church in the village of H—— completely demolished by shell
fire, with the exception of the altar and the three life-size statues
behind it on the wall. The figures of the Mother Mary and Joseph and
that of the Christ in the center were intact with the exception that
some German Hun had decapitated the figure of Christ. The destruction
of houses of worship was intended to produce in the minds of these
peasants the thought—“God is not with us,”—for if He were, they
reasoned, “He surely would not permit the Germans to raze our homes
and devastate our farms.” This would cause unrest and dissatisfaction
in general with the Government, perhaps produce a cry for peace at any
price, and that is what the Germans had hoped for. But what a mistake
they have made, for the French peasant will make every sacrifice, even
to death, for their country.