"God speed you, my daughter, and never cease to thank Him for preserving
you!"
Again we went our way.
Lizy-sur-Ourq, which we reached in the late forenoon, presented a more
animated, though hardly more pleasing spectacle. On the tracks in front
of the station dozens of flat cars and freight trains had been purposely
run together. Some had telescoped, others mounted high in piles, one
upon the other, their locomotives as well as their contents being
smashed and damaged--the whole scene presenting the aspect of a gigantic
railway wreck.
On the steps of the station, seated gun in hand, three soldiers sat
playing a game of cards. Across the street a sentry mounted guard in
front of a large door over which floated a Red Cross flag.
"What's in there?" I asked.
"Prisoners and wounded."
"Can I be of any assistance?"
"Hardly--only flesh wounds."