German Empire would rise on the ruins of the British. Commercial
gain was the theme. I did not gather from the conversation that
anybody but Germany would be a party to the peace.

A man in close touch with things military entered at midnight. His
eyes danced as he gave us new information about Antwerp. Clearly
the city was doomed.

I did not sleep that night. I packed. Next evening I was in
Holland. I saw a big story, hired a car, picked up a _Times_
courier, and, after "fixing" things with the Dutch guards, dashed
for Antwerp. The long story of a retreat with the rearguard of the
Belgian Army has no place here. But there were scenes which
contrasted with the boasting, confident, joyous capital I had left.
Belgian horses drawing dejected families, weeping on their
household goods, other families with everything they had saved
bundled in a tablecloth or a handkerchief. Some had their
belongings tied on a bicycle, others trundled wheel-barrows.
Valuable draught dogs, harnessed, but drawing no cart, were led by
their masters, while other dogs that nobody thought of just
followed along. And tear-drenched faces everywhere. Back in
Bergen-op-Zoom and Putten I had seen chalk writing on brick walls
saying that members of certain families had gone that way and would
wait in certain designated places for other members who chanced to
pass. On the road, now dark, and fringed with pines, I saw a faint
light flicker. A group passed, four very old women tottering after
a very old man, he holding a candle before him to light the way.

As I jotted down these things and handed them to my courier I
thought of the happy faces back in Berlin, of jubilant crowds