VON BETHMANN-HOLLWEG, THE GERMAN CHANCELLOR,
In His Field Uniform, Showing the Helmet in Its New Weatherproof Cover.
(_Photo by Brown & Dawson, From Underwood & Underwood._)]
Now the enemy are firing on the little village behind our lines,
dropping shell among the houses, and always near the house where certain
staff officers are at work. A curious point this--how close they get to
the house when they can't possibly see the result of their fire. The
explanation must be "spies." They are everywhere here; they wear British
uniform and French uniform, and, most dangerous of all, civilian dress.
It is our own fault; we allow the French population to return to the
village right in our midst, and who in these times can question every
one's rights? The other day three men in civilian dress were found near
our lines sitting in trees; they were armed with wire-cutters, and said
they were engaged in cutting vines. Now there are no vineyards near, but
our wire entanglements were just beyond the wood. Again, one night we
were to attack a small position at a given hour, but the order was
afterward canceled. However, at the appointed time the enemy opened
fire upon the ground we should have crossed and lighted the scene with
rockets.
Nighttime is a period of continuous strain. The sentry peers into the
darkness, imagining every bush to be an approaching enemy.
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