_The Journey to Coblenz_
"I WANT a doughboy and not an officer to be first across that bridge."
This command from an American officer was issued one morning in
December, just as the sun broke through the grey mist. A little later,
the American Army of Occupation, which had been led to victory by
General Pershing, crossed the Moselle river. Beyond lay Germany.
There was no loud cheering, no blare of bands, or signs of the
conquering hero, when the American soldiers set foot on the land they
had crossed the ocean to conquer, only before their eyes floating in the
morning breeze were the stars and stripes.
The advanced guard continued the ascent over winding roads and past
villages onward toward the Rhine. First marched the infantry, then
followed the artillery, engineers, signal battalions and last the
hospital units. And accompanying one of the final units was Sonya Clark
and her Red Cross group.
Never were any of them to forget their journey into the city of Coblenz,
which, situated midway between Mayence and Cologne, just where the
Moselle flows into the Rhine, was to form the chief city for the
American Army of Occupation.
As a matter of fact Sonya and her Red Cross unit had not dreamed of
being able to form a part of the army on their first approach to the
Rhine, believing that the time spent by them in Luxemburg would delay
them too seriously. But, because the German army was slower in
accomplishing its retreat than had been anticipated, the Third American
Army did not draw near the city of Coblenz until the close of the second
week of December.
It was Sunday when they started their victorious march from the French
country, it was Sunday when they entered the valley of the Rhine.
Every acre of the valley appeared to be under cultivation; there were
fields of winter wheat and walled vineyards lining the roads. Beyond,
the hills were covered with dense forests, farther on were the tall
summits of the ancient castles of the Rhine.
Varying impressions the journey into Germany made upon this particular
group of American girls.
"I declare it is unendurable to me to see how prosperous and peaceful
the German county appears in comparison with the French!" Nona Davis
exclaimed, staring out of the window of their Red Cross automobile, as
their car drove through one of the small towns not far from the larger
city.
Not many grown persons were in sight, but children were swarming
everywhere and blonde heads were sticking out of the windows of nearly
all the little houses along the road.
"I don't think the children look nearly as hungry as we had been led to
expect," she added with a bitterness of tone unlike Nona's usual
attitude of mind. But then she had been nursing in Europe for four
years, since the very outbreak of the war and had been an eyewitness to
untold suffering and privation.
"I don't think I would be resentful about the German children, Miss
Davis," Nora Jamison argued unexpectedly, as she rarely took part in any
general conversation among the Red Cross girls.
Nona glanced in her direction. Sitting next Nora was the little French
girl, Louisa, who had been in her care ever since their withdrawal from
France. There had been no one along the way to whom they could entrust
the child.
In the little French girl's expression at the moment there was something
which seemed to Nona to justify her point of view. Her face was white
and her lips trembling as she too gazed out at the little German
village.
At the instant she had beheld a former German soldier walking along one
of the streets. On his head was a round civilian cap and he had on a
pair of civilian trousers, the rest of his costume was an old German
uniform. And it was the sight of the uniform which had brought the
terror to the child's face.
Sonya saw the look and understood it at the same moment. In order that
there might be no further argument she said gently:
"Girls, I don't often preach, but perhaps I shall make the effort now.
We are going into an extraordinary new experience for which I sometimes
wonder if we are either mentally or spiritually prepared. During the
past four years we have felt an intense bitterness against everything
German; they represented for us all the forces of evil against which we
were fighting. Now we are going to live among them and I suppose must
not feel the same degree of hatred. Yet it will be difficult to change,
impossible at first. I think it may be a number of years before we can
learn to accept them as our friends. And yet I do not wish any of us to
stir up fresh antagonism. One has always heard that the soldiers who
have done the actual fighting have never the same hatred toward each
other as the noncombatants, and perhaps we Red Cross workers stand
somewhere in between the two. And yet Germany has only herself to thank
that she has earned the distrust of the civilized world!"
As no one replied, after remaining silent a moment, Sonya went on: "You
know our soldiers have been given the order that they are to be as
polite as possible and not to make trouble, but also they are not to
fraternize with the Germans, even if living in their homes. I think the
same order holds good with us."
At this instant Bianca Zoli who had appeared to be almost asleep opened
her eyes and yawned.
"But I thought fraternizing meant becoming like brothers," she remarked
irritably. "I don't see how there is any danger of our becoming too
brotherly with the Germans, Sonya."
The laugh at Bianca's speech, although annoying to her, helped to clear
the atmosphere.
In truth at the time the Red Cross girls were weary and anxious to reach
the end of their journey, in order that they might establish their Red
Cross headquarters.
Bianca was in a particularly discouraged frame of mind. She was
distinctly grieved at saying goodby to the little Luxemburg countess,
whom she happened to have liked more than any girl she had ever known;
she also cherished a grievance against Sonya Clark, because Sonya had
refused to consent to bring Charlotta away with them secretly.
Moreover, Bianca was anxious to have some word of Carlo Navara. Not a
line, no news of any kind had she been able to receive since Carlo's
regiment began its march toward the Rhine. And Bianca had never a very
comfortable sense of Carlo's enduring friendship. It was only when she
had been able to help Carlo in the past that he had seemed especially
fond of her. She did not blame him particularly; he was a good deal
older than she was, and his gift of a wonderful voice made other people
spoil him, beside adding to his own vanity. He had once thought he would
always care more for Sonya Clark than any one in the world, but Bianca
had seen in the last weeks they were together in the hospital near
Chateau-Thierry that Carlo was becoming far more reasonable upon this
subject.
Sonya's marriage had of course made all the difference, although in his
absurd fashion Carlo had protested that it could never alter his
affection.
With a little sigh, Bianca now made an effort to go to sleep again.
She was not in the least interested in continuing to stare out the car
window as the other girls were. She had been doing nothing else for
days.
Whether she slept or not, Bianca did not realize. But suddenly she heard
Sonya murmur.
"Don't go to sleep again, Bianca dear. We are just about to enter
Coblenz and I want you to remember it all your life. See it is a
splendid, prosperous city along the bank of the Rhine."
But Bianca would not rouse herself until their automobile had entered
the centre of the city and gone by the Coblenzhof, one of the finest
hotels in the city, and then past the mammoth statue of Wilhelm I the
grandfather of the deposed Kaiser.
Then Bianca decided to display a mild interest in her surroundings.
Coblenz is known as one of the most beautiful cities in the world and
the German defeat had dimmed none of its outward glory.
Finally the Red Cross automobile drove to the outskirts of the city and
entered a large court yard. On a hill beyond the courtyard rose an old
castle which was to be the new American Red Cross hospital.
The building itself was grim and forbidding with its square, serrated
towers and heavy, dark stone walls.
Bianca gave an instinctive shiver.
"The castle looks more like a dungeon than a hospital," she whispered to
Sonya, "I wish they had given us a more cheerful place for our
headquarters. Perhaps our soldiers will not mind, but I should hate to
be ill in such a dismal place. Yes, I know the outlook over the Rhine is
magnificent but just the same it depresses me."
Then Bianca's manner and expression changed.
Standing in the yard before the castle were a group of their friends
waiting to receive them.
Dr. Clark had arrived in Coblenz a number of hours before his wife and
had already taken command of the new Red Cross hospital for American
soldiers. He and his wife had not seen each other in nearly a month, as
they had made the journey to the Rhine with different portions of the
army.
With Dr. Clark were other members of his Red Cross staff and several
representatives of the German Red Cross, who were to turn over certain
supplies.
Unexpectedly a private soldier formed one of the group, who must have
received permission from his superior officer to share in the welcome to
his friends.
The young man was Carlo Navara.
Bianca extended her hand like a child for Carlo to assist her out of the
car.
"I was never so glad to see you before," she announced. "I don't care
what the other Red Cross girls may say, but I have found the journey to
the Rhine since we left Luxemburg extremely tiresome."