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i62 WITH THE GERMAN ARMIES IN THE WEST
what we call in Sweden the first echelon of the great train
belonging to the army corps in front was about to assemble.
In all yards and alleys in the village we see groups of these
strong and cheerful German soldiers, always happy and con-
tented, busy extricating their gear from the baggage wagons
or cooking their dinners or patching their clothes. The in-
fantrymen—of whom there are many in the village—are con-
centrating their attention on their kitchen wagons, which
stand steaming and appetising as usual, ranged up at sheltered
spots. The others, who had no such luxuries, did their cooking
in cooking-trenches in the old familiar way. Around the large
awnings stretched over and in front of the wagons, the crews
of the transport columns often form really idyllic little picnic
groups.
Out in the field a bridging train has halted. Its vehicles,
drawn by four horses, have been dispersed. Why ? It is
because yesterday a French airman flew over the column and
dropped a bomb which mauled several horses horribly and
seriously injured four men. One of the pontoons was pierced
by several shell splinters, but was quickly and most effectively
repaired. It is best to be careful—one does at least what
one can to minimise the effects of these little visitations.
Presently a few infantry soldiers come along, driving a flock
of about a dozen sheep before them ; we presume they have
come across them wandering about in the open. Next day
there will probably be Irish stew for at least a couple of com-
panies.
Before a barn stands a steam-engine, busy driving a threshing
machine. Soldiers have brought in the wheat, and soldiers
are driving the engine. So it seems at any rate that a part of
the crop is being gathered. In the copse close by a company
of Landwehr have halted by the side of their piled arms.
What they are doing I cannot tell, but they seem ready for
anything that may turn up.
In the village we come across the 38th reserve field hospital.
Accommodation is scanty, and the primitive farmhouses have
had to be requisitioned. The wounded are lying on straw
on the bare floor. I cannot resist the temptation of looking
in, and step into a little hovel which has once been a kitchen.
It is now occupied by six men. They are lying comfortably
and softly on their backs and are all fast asleep. They must
be terribly tired since they are sleeping so soundly, although
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