[Illustration]
_A Night Trip_
The most anxious drive I ever had in a checkered automobiling
experience was in the evening of September 30. It was at a new post in
the mountains, not far from Hartmannsweilerkopf. I was there for the
first time when a call came from ---- (a station just behind the lines
where a shower bath is established). It was dusk already, but I knew no
better than to start. The road is new since the beginning of the war;
it follows the steep route of an old path and no lights are allowed
on it for fear the Germans might locate and shell it. It is narrow,
winding, and very steep, so steep that at places at the top of a
descent it looks as if the road ended suddenly. There was barely enough
twilight through the mass of trees to allow me to see the pack-mules
returning from the day's _ravitaillement_, but I finally made my way to
the post.
I was given a poor, blind soldier to carry back. What a trip he must
have had. If it was trying for me, it was worse for him.
It was now dark, a moonless, starless night in the woods. When I
started back, I could seldom see the road itself. I had to steer by the
bank or by the gaps in the trees ahead. Occasionally I would feel one
of the front wheels leave the crown of the road, and would quickly turn
to avoid going over the precipice, but with all this I had to rush the
grades which I could not see, but could only feel.
At last the machine refused a hill and stalled. I knew that there were
steeper hills ahead, worse roads and thicker woods. I decided that a
German bullet would be better than a fall down the mountain-side, and
so I lit one of my oil lamps. Some passing soldiers gave me a push and
by the flickering light of the lantern I felt my way more easily back
to the post. I was glad to arrive.