The Land of Deepening Shadow - Germany-at-War by D. Thomas Curtin
page 19 of 320 (05%)
page 19 of 320 (05%)
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dashing from restaurants and cafes as each newspaper edition was
shouted out, and I knew that the men in the luxurious club were figuring out to what extent they could mulct Belgium. I pressed on in the dark and joined the Belgian army and the British Naval Brigade falling back before the Germans. I came upon an American, now captain of a Belgian company. "It's a damn shame, and I hate to admit it," he said, "but the Allies are done for." That is the way it looked to us in the black hours of the retreat. Soldiers were walking in their sleep. Some sank, too exhausted to continue. An English sailor, a tireless young giant, trudged on mile after mile with a Belgian soldier on his back. Both the Belgian's feet had been shot off and tightly bound handkerchiefs failed to check the crimson trail. London and Paris were gloomy, but Berlin was basking in the bright morning sunshine of the war. Although the fronts were locked during the winter, the German authorities had good reason to feel optimistic about the coming spring campaign. They knew that they had increased their munition output enormously, and their spies told them that Russia had practically run out of ammunition, while England had not yet awakened to the realisation that this is a war of shells. The public saw the result in the spring. The armies of the Tsar fell back all along the line, while in Germany the flags were waving and the bells of victory were pealing. |
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