A newspaper correspondent made a motor trip to Brussels and tells of
being ambushed by Germans. He says:
“We first sighted Germans when approaching a railway grade crossing
outside of Aerschot. There were a hundred of them waiting for us behind
a hedge, with rifles leveled. When a hundred yards away an officer in
the trailing gray cloak stepped into the middle of the road and held up
his hand and called out:
“‘Halt!’
“I jammed on the brakes.
“‘Are you English?’ the officer demanded none too pleasantly.
“‘No, American,’ I said.
“‘I know America well,’ he said. ‘Atlantic City and Niagara Falls and
Coney Island. I have seen all your famous places.’
“Imagine standing in the middle of a Belgian road, surrounded by German
soldiers who looked as though they would rather shoot you than not, and
discussing the relative merits of hotels at Atlantic City with an
officer of an invading army.”
“MORE WAITING FOR YOU”
“Why, it’s Kitchener!” gasped the wounded soldiers in St. Thomas’s
Hospital, London, as the Secretary of State for War stepped in for a
visit of inspection, says a correspondent. Here’s his chat with a
trooper of the Royal Irish Dragoons:
“How are you getting on?” asked Lord Kitchener.
“All right, sir,” answered Trooper Craig.
“What’s your regiment?”
“The Irish Dragoons.”
“How did you get that hand?”
“My horse threw me and stamped on it, sir, just before it got killed by
a shell in a charge in Belgium.”
“Ah, but you got into them, didn’t you?” Lord Kitchener continued, with
a knowing air.
“Oh, yes, sir, we did,” answered the trooper, with a laugh, in which
Lord Kitchener joined.
“There are some more waiting for you, you know,” was Lord Kitchener’s
parting shot, and again the trooper laughed.
“YES, TAKE A PICTURE”
A curious story in connection with the sacking of Louvain is told by a
correspondent of a London paper. M. Pousette, a Swedish diplomat, was
there, watching the soldiers looting shops. He talked with a German
lieutenant.
M. Pousette had a camera in his pocket. He asked the lieutenant if he
could take a picture. The lieutenant, not knowing that M. Pousette had
the camera, misunderstood the question, and, waving his hand toward a
particularly fine mansion, generously said: “Yes; go in that house.
There are a number of good ones there.”