"I will
keep it for Sunday," he said.
I then got him back to the seventy-five chasseurs. It was just eight
o'clock in the morning--a beautiful sunshiny morning--when the German
column appeared around the bend in the road which we could see across
the bridge, and which joined the highway from Luneville. There were
twelve thousand in that first column. One hundred and fifty thousand
more came later. A band was playing "Deutschland ueber alles" and the men
were singing. The closely packed front ranks of infantry broke into the
goose step as they came in sight of the town. It was a wonderful sight;
the sun glistened on their helmets; they marched as though on parade
right down almost to the opposite end of the bridge.
Then came the command to halt. For a moment there was a complete
silence. The Germans, only a couple of hundred yards from the barricade,
seemed slowly to consider the situation. The Captain of the chasseurs,
from a shelter behind the very little house that is still standing--and
where his men up the two roads could see him--softly waved his hand.
Crack-crack-crack--crack-crack-crack-crack--crack-crack-crack! The
bullets from the mitrailleuses whistled across the bridge into the front
ranks of the "Deutchland ueber alles" singers, while the men behind the
bridge barricade began a deadly rifle fire.
Pages:
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392