IN ARRAS WITH THE FRENCH.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 5, Issue 135, 21 January 1916, Page 3 (Supplement)

IN ARRAS WITH THE FRENCH.

THK LOOK IN WOMEN'S EYES. (Bv Mr. Valentino Williams in the "Daily Mail.") General Headquarter*. British Army, Nov. 10. In ruined Anas I got a copy of the I'arlri edition of "The Daly Miil" within a quarter of a mile of the German trenches. It is the only English newspaper that is sold regularly in the city. T3ip little newspaper jtfiop tucked away under the colonnaded arcades oi the curious Spanish of the Grande Plaeo, where it is retailed, was closed wiien I passed t. as it \va> the lunch hour. Contents hills were proudly dispiayed outside, old ones, it is true. But an officer gave me his co»v and 11 was hut twenty-tour hour- old. The way in which the news of the outer world stminis regularly into Ana-. propped up, as it were, right under the muzzle* of the enemy's gun>, i- hut our nf the many anomalies of existence in tli's extraordinary place., Then' are, perhaps, a tnousand civilian!—old men, women, and ch ldre:i. who continue to live in Arras despite the tenor- of an incessant homhardiiii nt simply hecaiHO, a- m many ot them toid me, in Aria- they -till imve the relic- of their good* and chattcN. ivherca- elsewhere llicy would hue nothing. There is al-0 a pol c man. a regular agent, with kepi and i tile hooded rajm. 1 s:i\v him -tandillL' in the twilight ill a diverted square, a huiel.v figure amid the riiin>, hut. despite the hiznnv s< tting, a tvpical French pnlcerinin -till. iv'tli h - hands tucked inh'- hell. h. ;,;.■ of n l.rooding philosopher, h • genlie yet austere manner. T'NPKH THK SIKH'.--. You have heard of the civilians of Vrras living in the dc p and rarnhling pilars dug under the Grande I'la.e nnd otln r parts el' the citv known as "Bov«w." Long Hi-ht- of steps lend [ma the pavement in front r,t the H. onderthe nrenrtes of the Grande ■ d'.wn to these suhterrunean ■ where these letch'-d wople | their home-; with -eeh rude

comfort as they have been able to provide. As you pass the cellar openings you have a glimpse of beds and tallies and cooking pots, an old woman peeling potatoes or knitting, her birds or her cat by her elbow. There are shops, too, where besides some of the commod ties of life brought regularly into the town, you may buy picture postcard- of Arra, before and after tlie bombardment. There are not many shops open, but those which I saw seemed to he general in character and to stock everything from butter to reels of cotton. It is strange to meet children in Arras. They pop out at you from cellars, from ruins, from all kinds of unexpected corners, apparently quite reckless of the danger that is always lowering, heedless of the reverberating exp!os : ons echoing from different parts or the city. Like the gamins of Paris during the when a shell fulls they rush to the spot to hunt for the fuse and splinters and to bear them away as souvenirs as soon as they are cool enough to touch. They arc a proud and bitter folk, the Arrageois. Fifteen months of war have made them so. They glower with a fierce hatrTi of the German who iblowing thoi, beautiful c-ty to puses, street by street, house by house: they swell with pride when thev tell you that the German has never set fool in Airas, and never shall. You mark the grave faces of the men, the hyster.a -taring out of the eye, or the women. And. as you look, you beg'n to understand the fire raging in every man of the French Army to make the Germans pay for the misery th it 'i colon arroe.uii c has brought upon France.