“Shortly after international war was declared last July, the _Herald_
decided that it needed a personal representative at the front, and I
was selected for the job because I had been over here several times
on pleasure trips before, knew the lie of the land pretty well and
moreover could speak half a dozen languages. As you may guess, I was
mighty proud of being honored by so responsible a position.
“Before leaving I called at the offices of the Universal Transportation
Company to bid Ned and Alan good-bye, but found that they were visiting
their families in Chicago, and so had to leave without seeing them.
“Following instructions, I landed first in England, where I interviewed
both Lord Roberts, commander-in-chief of the British army, and Sir
Edward Grey, the prime minister. At that time no one in London seemed
to be much worried over the war and it was prophesied that the Kaiser
would soon be treating for peace.
“Knowing the truly magnificent organization of the German military
machine as I did, I didn’t think so, and really I don’t believe that
gallant Lord Roberts did either, despite his remarks in our interview.
“I crossed the channel from Dover to Calais on August fifteenth,
shortly after the fall of Liege and while sharp fighting was going on
between the Germans and French in Alsace-Lorraine. Everything was in
confusion. Train service was disrupted, the French army was only half
mobilized yet, the Belgians, despite their wonderful resistance, were
being crushed by the invading Germans on every hand, and the country
people were fleeing in abject terror to get out of harm’s way.
“Contrary to expectations, I found that foreign war correspondents were
not at all welcome and I was subjected to all sorts of petty annoyances
from both civic and military officials. It was then that I began
showing my neutral newspaper credentials less frequently, and tried
wherever possible to pass myself off as a tourist unable to return home.
“The allied French, Belgian and English forces engaged the conquering
German host all along a two hundred and forty-eight mile battle
line on the Alsatian frontier about that time, and the Germans threw
millions of men into Belgium, seeking a shortcut to already terrified
Paris. There were wild rumors afloat that Brussels, the Belgium
capital, would resist German occupation. This promised to be a big
‘story’ for my paper, so I hurried there with what haste I could.
“As you know, however, the terrible fate of other Belgian cities which
had resisted the invaders, had pretty well cowed the citizens, and
Brussels surrendered without a shot being fired. I was there when that
wonderful German army marched in and took possession, and I want to
tell you boys right now that it was the most imposing spectacle I ever
hope to see. The crowds were packed eight and ten deep along all the
principal streets to watch the triumphal entrance. They waited there
anxiously from early morning until two o’clock, when we heard that the
burgomaster had officially turned over the keys of the city to the
advance guard and removed his scarf of office.
“‘They are coming! The Germans are here!’ ran through the tremendous
throngs of citizens.
“On they came, preceded by a scouting party of Uhlans, horse, foot,
artillery and sappers, with siege train complete. There were fully a
hundred armored motor cars on which rapid-firing guns were mounted.
Every regiment and battery was headed by a band.
“Then came the drums and fifes, the blare of brass and hoarse,
lusty-voiced soldiers singing ‘Die Wacht am Rhein’ and ‘Deutschland
Uber Alles.’
“The legions of the war-king of Europe swept down through the ancient
streets of Brussels like a great flood. But the gorgeous garb of the
German army was missing--the cherry-colored and lilac uniforms of
the horsemen, the bright blue of the infantry. All wore greenish,
earth-color gray, which made them less conspicuous for hostile
marksmen. All of the spiked helmets were painted gray. The gun
carriages and even the pontoon bridges were gray.
“To the quick-step rattle of drums, the Germans marched to the city
square. Then at a sharp word of command, the gray-clad ranks, like one
grand machine, broke into the famous stiff-legged ‘goose step,’ while
the simple folk of the town gazed with mouths agape. They did this
after a long, grueling night of continuous marching, when we expected
that they would be staggering with fatigue.
“There were the renowned 26th and 64th regiments, already
battle-scarred veterans. There rode on prancing black horses the famous
Brunswick Death’s Head Hussars, and their comrades on many bloody
fields, the Zeiten Hussars. There the dashing, reckless Uhlan lancers,
some of whom had Belgian officers manacled to their stirrup leathers
and caused a subdued murmur of resentment to run through the crowd.
Instantly the German horsemen backed their steeds into the densely
packed ranks of the spectators, threatening them with uplifted swords
and effectually quelling the outward manifestations of momentary revolt.
“All day long and far into the night that ominous gray column kept
passing through the streets, and it seemed for days afterwards as if
I could still hear the muffled _tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp_, and the
rumble of heavy gun carriages over the cobblestones.
“The difficulties of my position were immensely increased after this,
for the Germans proved very strict about signing passports or letting
noncombatants wander about the country. While I was detained thus in
Brussels, reports came of the fall of Liege, fierce fighting around
Malines and the terrible sacking of Louvain. The German hosts invaded
France, Rheims fell, the French government fled south to Bordeaux, and
it was commonly said that the Germans would eat their Christmas dinner
in Paris.
“As you may guess, I was wild to get nearer the battle front, but no
efforts of mine could persuade or bribe the German officers to let me
accompany the army on the march. About the only news that I could cable
back to the _Herald_ was made up of sketchy little sidelights on how
the Belgians lived under the conquerors, and even those were grossly
edited by the official censor.
“Early in September we heard that the Allies had rallied, however. The
English had imported Sepoys from India, and the French, black men from
Algeria to help them in fighting, and had thrown themselves between
trembling Paris and the advancing Teuton. Then, on the 7th, I think
it was, came news that the German right wing had been checked almost
within cannon shot of the French capital, and that the whole auxiliary
army of the Crown Prince Friedrich Wilhelm had been hurled back by a
masterly flank movement on the part of the French under General Joffre.
“That seemed to be the turning point. Reinforcements were daily
arriving for the Allied army from England and elsewhere; it was
difficult for the hard-pressed Germans to get sufficient supplies so
far from their own boundaries, and, moreover, the Russian hordes had in
the meantime overrun all of East Prussia and had become a dire menace
there. A party of the Army of the West was rushed across Germany to
help General Von Hindenburg resist the Russian assault, and Von Kluck
reluctantly fell back from Paris to the French frontier, fighting
desperately every inch of the way.
“There the most sanguinary battles of the war were fought as the Allies
pressed on after the retreating Germans. All of you boys have read in
the newspapers of the battles of the Meuse, of the Marne, at Mons, and
along that tremendous battle line of the Aisne.
“Those terrible conflicts will go down in history as the most awful of
their kind ever known on earth. The dead filled the trenches and river
bed so deep that they formed a solid footing for their comrades to
fight hand to hand with Englishman, Frenchman, Hindu, Belgian, Algerian
and Lorrainer.
“Winter came with cold, ice, sleet and snow, to intensify the
sufferings of the inadequately protected soldiers. Thousands of wounded
died from exposure on the field where they fell. They fought on the
earth, in tunnels under it, high up in the air, on the sea and under
the sea. They mined the whole North Sea and the English Channel.
Antwerp surrendered and Ghent fell before the Germans.
“And all of that time I was cooped up in one Belgian town or another,
stopped every time I tried to get anywhere near the battle front, with
the _Herald_ cabling me every day or so for some _real_ news--the stuff
that they didn’t get through Associated Press channels--‘copy’ that
would enable them to print something that everybody else didn’t have.
“So finally I grew desperate and determined to get closer to the scene
of actual fighting, at no matter what hazard. Right then my real
troubles began.”