No account of Antwerp in war time would be complete without at
least passing mention of the boy scouts, who were one of the city's
most picturesque and interesting features. I don't quite know how
the city could have got along without them. They were always on the
job; they were to be seen everywhere and they did everything.
They acted as messengers, as doorkeepers, as guides, as orderlies
for staff officers, and as couriers for the various ministries; they ran
the elevators in the hotels, they worked in the hospitals, they
assisted the refugees to find food and lodgings. The boy scouts
stationed at the various ministries were on duty twenty-four hours at
a stretch. They slept rolled up in blankets on the floors; they
obtained their meals where and when they could and paid for them
themselves, and made themselves extremely useful. If you
possessed sufficient influence to obtain a motor-car, a boy scout
was generally detailed to sit beside the driver and open the door
and act as a sort of orderly. I had one. His name was Joseph. He
was most picturesque. He wore a sombrero with a cherry-coloured
puggaree and a bottle-green cape, and his green stockings turned
over at the top so as to show knees as white and shapely as those
of a woman. To tell the truth, however, I had nothing for him to do.
So when I was not out in the car he occupied himself in running the
lift at the Hotel St. Antoine. Joseph was with me during the German
attack on Waelhem. We were caught in a much hotter place than
we intended and for half an hour were under heavy shrapnel fire. I
was curious to see how the youngster--for he was only fourteen--
would act. Finally he turned to me, his black eyes snapping with
excitement. "Have I your permission to go a little nearer, monsieur?"
he asked eagerly. "I won't be gone long. I only want to get a
German helmet." It may have been the valour of ignorance which
these broad-hatted, bare-kneed boys displayed, but it was the sort