A terrible story of the holocaust at Liége was told to the correspondent
of the _Daily Mail_ by a wealthy Dutch cigarette manufacturer who had
lived for a long time in Belgium, and was married to a Belgium woman. He
stated that on the day of their entry the Germans posted an order on the
streets that all arms in possession of private persons must be
immediately delivered, under the threat of being shot. The inhabitants
complied with the order. Among others, collections of old arms were
brought, valued sometimes at hundreds of pounds. The new vandals
destroyed all these pitilessly.
“During the first days the Germans paid for everything they took. But
later on soldiers produced valueless pieces of paper, on which something
had been scribbled which could hardly be read. On Sunday, August 23rd,
at midnight, the inhabitants were suddenly awakened by soldiers knocking
at the doors. ‘We need immediately two hundred and fifty mattresses, two
hundred pounds of coffee, two hundred and fifty loaves of bread, and
five hundred eggs,’ they said. ‘If these are not delivered in an hour’s
time your hostages will be shot.’ Everybody rushed to the market-place,
many people in their night clothes. There stood the mayor, half-dressed.
“After the inhabitants had brought in everything which was demanded they
were informed that the whole was a mistake and that they could go to
bed. The old mayor, however, was detained the whole night in the
street.
“One day when the soldiers sat down to dinner, an alarm was suddenly
beaten in the streets. Soldiers from all the houses were summoned to
their regiments. Immediately after, the bombardment of the houses began.
The informant took refuge with his wife and children in a cellar, which
was constantly filled with smoke from the neighbouring houses, which had
caught fire. On Wednesday morning the bombardment ceased and they
ventured to the station.
“Here, notwithstanding his protests, and proposals to produce papers,
showing that he was a Dutch subject, the cigarette manufacturer was
separated from his family, of whom he has since lost sight. He was
surrounded by soldiers, who bound his hands behind his back, and with
other refugees he was kept at the station many hours. During this time
he saw a party of three hundred Belgian civilians, among whom were old
men and lads of fourteen or fifteen, driven at the point of the bayonet
to a remote spot near the station, where they were all shot before his
eyes.
“After a terrible night, he and his group of seventy-six men were set
free. They had had nothing to eat or drink for thirty-six hours. All
streets and roads in and round Liége were strewn, according to the
witness, with bodies of men, women, and children. Among those shot were
the mayor, two aldermen, the rector of the University, two deans, and
many police inspectors.”