Three days later General J---- sent his motor cyclist to bring us
out to lunch. The courtesy was indeed great, as the lad had 50 miles
to come, if not more. Unluckily he had a smash, and rode back on the
step of our car. He was a type of the modern Belgian youth. Well-bred,
clever, with frank, humourous eyes, and the adorable smile of a
"Parisian gamin," he kept us amused all the way. His comments were
racy, and always gallant.
"I am no longer a simple soldier; I am corporal. The General has done
that--because of you others, there is no doubt."
And his merry eyes challenged us to disbelieve that a simple soldier
would not be good enough as escort.
"Yes, we are all gay," he would say; "yes, but it is sad too. I am
_fiancé_, and I have no letter from her--no, not from the day the war
broke out. I have written, yes, but she does not answer. It is gay the
war, _n'est-ce pas_, madame?"
And a little later, with his childish pout: "I have had a letter from
my mother. She is in Brussels; she does not find the war gay. She
cannot see me, and she loves me."
His shrill whistle, prolonged on a certain note, took us past sentries
and barricades.
"You see, the Belges are musical. There, hear me whistle like a bird,
and say 'Passez! passez! les oiseaux!'"
The wind was keen and the roads greasy, but Chris sat steady as a rock,
her great grey eyes fixed on the future, her mobile face calm and
tranquil. Jean was piqued.
"Look, mam'selle, Chris is absorbed. She drives, yes; but she will not
listen to our chatter. She has no time to smile then. Oh, these ladies
who drive cars!"
Chris (who had danced and skated in peaceful days with the little
cyclist) turned her ready smile in his direction, and he forgave.
We arrived at length at the farmhouse where Divisional Headquarters
were. The General was busy, but greeted us warmly. He sent for
liqueurs, at the appearance of which Chris edged diplomatically nearer
the coal-scuttle. The General produced his mascot, a woolly dog sent
by a lady from England. He showed us also his grand chain and Order of
Leopold Premier given him for his gallantry at Dixmude. Then we had
lunch--and such a luncheon as any London restaurant would have been
proud to serve. Suddenly the telephone rang. Taubes were bombarding a
village near at hand. Even as the adjutant rang off and reported to the
General we heard the engine throbbing overhead. We all ran out to the
yard to watch the graceful death-dealing machine circling in the clear
sky. Then it flew on and glided out of sight. The General showed me his
two horses lying down in a little shed near.
I forgot to mention that before lunch he took us up to his bedroom
to wash, and displayed with simple pride the bed he shared with his
major and the other bed which two captains occupied. Accommodation was
limited! He also produced a bottle of scent for our use!
Then he sent for his car, and with Major ---- we set off for the
nearest battery. The chauffeur cared not for speed limits, and a wild
rush landed us in a very short time at the corner of a field. We walked
across this to inspect a battery of small guns. Then we went on,
carefully avoiding the wire of a field telephone to an advanced gun
position. As we neared what looked like a ridge of trees we saw that
these also were cunningly contrived to conceal the guns. This was a
new battery of which the officer in charge was very proud. He told us
what good work they had done within the last ten days. They had only
been sent up then. In another hour he suggested we might judge for
ourselves; but General J---- did not deem it prudent, so we thanked
the officer and the cheery gunners for all the trouble they had taken.
Here, too, the dug-outs were beautifully finished off--even little
panes of glass were let in as windows.