AN ENGLISHWOMAN AT THE FRONT

Hokitika Guardian, 18 July 1917, Page 4

AN ENGLISHWOMAN AT THE FRONT

BABY'S • TOY IN RUINS OF HUN-WRECKED HOME. —_ t (By E. Almaz Stout.) | Lassigny, France, April 24 I ’ I can claim the proud distinction of being the-first Englishwoman to , pass through the desolation of ] Lassigny and the surrounding vil- i lages so recently reclaimed by the 1 French. 1 The deputy of the district, on a ‘ visit of inspection through the region which was once one of the most smiling and prosperous of sunny France, took me with him in his motor-car and, accompanied < by the head doctor of the ambulance where lam staying, we drove / and walked through such scenes of destruction as out-distance language. Lassigny itself, at one time a prosperous town with an ancient and beautiful cathedral, is not. There is not left one house, one hovel, one dog-kennel that is not in ruins. As I caught my foot in a long length of wire in the rubble-lieap that was once a famous cathedral a soldier called out sharply to me, “ Take care, madame. Remember there are traps everywhere. In stumbling over that stretched-out piece of wire you may explode a mine or a shell.” The sight of two enormous shells placed in two holes expressly made for them-in the foundations of a piece of wall which was still standing gave point to the warning, and from then onward I picked my way with care! OBLITERATED HOMES. The ’story of the desolation wrought by the Huns in districts they have overrun lias been told many times, but perhaps it is only a woman who can realise to the full what the destruction of every semblance of “ home ” means to those other women wliqMived there as girls, as brides, as mothers. There is not one thing left them. Not the rooms where their babies were born, not the photographs, nor the tiny shoes and outgrown garments that are in every mother’s treasured collection, not a jewel, •not a sheet or piece of" fur, not one sou. Everything v is just a heap of crumbling, unrecognisable fragments. Outside aheap of stones that had tonce been a house I found a broken toy, a miniature station and railway train, and my heart rose to my ‘ throat. It had been the treasure of some French baby, now either dead or in exile, and probably some .Hun father’s heart had been touched as lie' remembered his own nursery, so far intact from the invader’s curse, and he had safeguarded it till the hour of his own enforced retreat sounded. I lingered long beside that toy, for, dumb as it was, it was vibrant with memories of many scenes. We drove on through miles of ■ broken country. However short the Germans may have been of food —and from the accounts of the 1 ’refugees on whom the Germans were domiciled they were short of food —they did not go short of drink, for scattered broadcast throughout ■ the land are piles of' empty wine bottles, casks and flagons.. SPOILS FOR GERMANY. 11l the whole of this abandoned district the story is the same. Iu their retreat the Germans took everything portable that was of value and destroyed the rest, except ior an occasional bed or chair which they used up to the last moment. They have not left a sheet or a blanket. Even the women’s little store of underclothes, the children’s change of poor, cheap frocks have been taken and sent back to Germany.

It is this systematic, meticulous method of destruction and robbery which will make the German name a by-word for generations. Even the French people, whose soil has been polluted, whose country has been ruined, do not complain of the blown-up railways, the destroyed barracks, the broken-down bridges and stations. “ C’est la 'guerre,” and all such deeds are justified by the exigencies of war. But it is the ruthless robbing of their poor of every paltry treasure, the leaving them in their wrecked homes without sou or possession beyond the bare clothes in which the}'- stand up, which will never be forgotten, never forgiven. As I turned homeward from'the tragic scenes of destruction which this generation will not see restored, mingled with my passionate sympathy for France was the desire that those men and women, of whatever nationality, who still cherish admiring thoughts of Germany and German wavs could see what I had seen. Ido not fancy that even the most ardent pro-German could be found to lift his voice in defence of the Kultur which has found expression in those districts, which,, thank God, the German foot is not likely to befoul again.