Figures on the Road.
I reached the Rhine at dusk. The ferry barge, a small rope affair with a
hand wheel, was at the water's edge. All was quiet this side of the
river, but across the water anxious voices called. Close to me a door
opened and a shaft of light split the darkness as the little old and
white-haired ferry keeper came clattering out, wiping his mouth and
muttering savagely. He stepped upon the barge. I followed and took the
wheel from him. He smiled and spoke, but as I pointed to my ears and
tongue and shook my head, he nodded. Between us we worked the barge
across the river.
As the ferry neared the bank my heart beat fast, for I saw the waiting
figures were soldiers! There were five of them and they seemed
impatient. Before the barge had touched the shore they had jumped
aboard, not noticing me walk off. They were without rifles, this struck
me at the time as very significant, and the soldiers began to hurriedly
work the ferry back again. I turned and watched the barge fade into the
darkness, but hearing footsteps, looked up and saw more soldiers
outlined on the skyline of the high bank. The road zig-zagged up the
hill, and by keeping in the shadow of the cliff I passed along without
trouble. From the hilltop I discovered to the left the light-dotted city
of Coblenz. I took the road to the west and walked through the night. At
times many people passed along that road to the river, including
scattered bands of soldiers. I knew them by their spiked helmets
silhouetted against the sky.
It must have been midnight when I struck the main Coblenz Road. A string
of waggons and carts rumbled along towards Coblenz with many soldiers
walking between. Close by a railway line ran parallel with the road and
continuous trains slowly crawled, hissing and shrieking like wounded
things. I plodded along the tree-screened roadside, the cloudy darkness
of the night helping my security. And all through that night and early
morning silent tramping figures passed along--all going in the one
direction!
As dawn began to break I left the high road, tired and foot weary and
struck into the bush to snatch some sleep.
I woke with the sun well up in the sky. I still could hear the squealing
of the railway trains, and when I climbed to a distant ridge and looked
around me I saw the Coblenz-Treves road stretching far to the south-west
and dotted with figures--grey soldiers and others, hospital waggons and
farm carts, all moving along like a great procession.
I felt that road was not safe for me.
Beyond the belt of timber between myself and the road were fenced
paddocks with scattered farm houses. To the west the forest stretched
where far ahead a speck of white caught my eye. I made it a guide mark
and worked towards it.
Beyond the ridge I stumbled on to a small farm, and as I came in sight a
barking dog brought a woman to the door. I felt hungry and took a
chance. She watched me approach, then closed the door, and as I came up
she opened it again, but held a gun in her hand and talked fiercely at
me.
I pointed to my ear and tongue and shook my head; at the same time held
out the sheet of paper. I remember the simple old lady put down her gun
and pulled the spectacles from her forehead to her nose, read my note
that I was 'going to the front' and--kissed me! Possibly this was
because of the suggestion of a retreat, whilst I, a mute, was going to
the fighting line. Then she pointed towards the road and went off into a
temper, rattling off a torrent of excited German, and again looking
towards the road, spat vigorously.
As she handed me bread and cheese there were tears in her eyes. I
remember as I left I kissed her and as I made for the strip of white I
had seen earlier in the day, I carried the vision of those tear-dimmed
eyes. "Somebody's mother," I mused. "Somebody's mother."