commands this particular section. A little further on a helmeted
captain of infantry, who is an expert sniper, joins our little party.
Now we are at the very front trench. I had expected to see primeval
men, bearded and shaggy. But the 'Poilus' have disappeared. The men
around me were clean and dapper to a remarkable degree. I gathered,
however, that they had their internal difficulties. On one board I read
an old inscription, 'He is a Boche, but he is the inseparable companion
of a French soldier.' Above was a rude drawing of a louse.

I am led to a cunning loop-hole, and have a glimpse through it of a
little framed picture of French countryside. There are fields, a road,
a sloping hill beyond with trees. Quite close, about thirty or forty
yards away, was a low, red-tiled house. 'They are there,' said our
guide. 'That is their outpost. We can hear them cough.' Only the guns
were coughing that morning, so we heard nothing, but it was certainly
wonderful to be so near to the enemy and yet in such peace. I suppose
wondering visitors from Berlin are brought up also to hear the French
cough. Modern warfare has certainly some extraordinary sides.

Now we are shown all the devices which a year of experience has
suggested to the quick brains of our Allies. It is ground upon which
one cannot talk with freedom. Every form of bomb, catapult, and trench
mortar was ready to hand. Every method of cross-fire had been thought
out to an exact degree. There was something, however, about their
disposition of a machine gun which disturbed the Commandant. He called
for the officer of the gun. His thin lips got thinner and his grey eyes
more austere as we waited. Presently there emerged an extraordinarily
handsome youth, dark as a Spaniard, from some rabbit hole. He faced the
Commandant bravely, and answered back with respect but firmness.
'Pourquoi?' asked the Commandant, and yet again 'Pourquoi?' Adonis had