some shelter from the German lines, but she told me that any movement on
horseback was immediately sniped with whizbangs. The day before all her
cows had been killed by shell-fire in the paddock behind the farmhouse,
but if she and her elderly husband let their land go out of cultivation,
how were they to live, and if they left, where could they go? When
high-explosives blew great holes in their sown land they just filled in
the holes and ploughed and sowed the place over again. The settled
sadness of her face and voice haunts me still. Others, however, stay in
danger because they are making so much money. Several shopkeepers in
this town admitted they had never known such prosperity. The estaminets
make enormous profits from the sale of very weak beer. A friend of mine,
having drawn battalion pay in notes of too large amounts, was told to
return to the paymaster and draw it in smaller sums. He found the office
closed, and turned into a little village shop to see if they could
change a part of it. To his amazement they changed the whole of it from
the till. The total amount was ten thousand francs. But how many
Belgians have lost their all?

Our billets were clean and very airy. For some reason, though all
furniture had been removed, the presses, which were all open, were full
of beautiful bed and table linen. It was very tempting, but fortunately
we resisted the temptation. The morning after we arrived, about seven
o'clock, a disturbance arose below. Angry women's voices were heard in
altercation with the servants, there were hurried footsteps on the
stair, and a moment later our door was thrust violently open. Two
strapping Belgian women strode in and demanded answers to many
questions. We adopted our friend the Major's plan, and feigned to know
even less French than we did. We were anxious to be very inoffensive as
we lay on the floor and watched these determined individuals throwing
open the presses and wardrobes. Inside the linen lay untouched, folded