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Paths of Glory - Impressions of War Written at and Near the Front by Irvin S. (Irvin Shrewsbury) Cobb
page 50 of 310 (16%)
stricken town not a single villager comes near us. A priest passes us,
bows deeply to us, and in an instant is gone round a jog in the street,
the skirts of his black robe flicking behind him. From upper windows
faces peer out at us--faces of women and children mostly. In nearly
every one of these faces a sort of cow-like bewilderment expresses
itself--not grief, not even resentment, but merely a stupefied
wonderment at the astounding fact that their town, rather than some
other town, should be the town where the soldiers of other nations come
to fight out their feud. We have come to know well that look these last
few days. So far as we have seen there has been no mistreatment of
civilians by the soldiers; yet we note that the villagers stay inside
the shelter of their damaged homes as though they felt safer there. A
young officer bustles up, spick and span in his tan boots and tan
gloves, and, finding us to be Americans and correspondents, becomes
instantly effusive. He has just come through his first fight, seemingly
with some credit to himself; and he is proud of the part he has played
and is pleased to talk about it. Of his own accord he volunteers to
lead us to the heights back of the town where the French defenses were
and where the hand-to-hand fighting took place.

As we trail along behind him in single file we pass a small paved court
before a stable and see a squad of French prisoners. Later we are to
see several thousand French prisoners; but now the sight is at once a
sensation and a novelty to us. These are all French prisoners; there
are no Belgians or Englishmen among them. In their long, cumbersome
blue coats and baggy red pants they are huddled down against a wall in a
heap of straw. They lie there silently, chewing straws and looking very
forlorn. Four German soldiers with fixed bayonets are guarding them.

The young lieutenant leads us along a steeply ascending road over a
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