XII.
MY VISIT TO GERMANY
The train to Germany left so late in the evening that it was impossible for me to see devastated France even though we passed through a considerable portion of it. Our compartment on the train is very stuffy and smelly and the train service is atrocious, food and sanitary conditions being intolerable after American train service.
Again there is a crowd at the station to see me off, but I am rather enjoying it. A beautiful French girl presents me with a bouquet of flowers with a cute little speech, or at least I suppose it was, because she looked very cute delivering it, and the pouts that the language gave to her red lips were most provocative. She tells me in delicious broken English that I look tired and sad, and I find myself yielding without a struggle to her suggestion.
We arrive at Joumont near the Belgian frontier along about midnight, and, like a message from home, there is a gang of American soldier boys at the station to greet me. And they are not alone, for French, Belgian, and British troops are also waving and cheering. I wanted to talk to the Belgians, and we tried it, but it was no use. What a pity!
But one of them had a happy inspiration and saved the day.
"Glass of beer, Charlot?"
I nod, smiling. And to my surprise they bring me beer, which I lift to my lips for politeness, and then drink it to the last drop in pure pleasure. It is very good beer.
There is a group of charming little Belgian girls. They are smiling at me shyly and I so want to say something to them. But I can't. Ah, the bouquet! Each little girl gets a rose and they are delighted.
"Merci, merci, monsieur." And they keep "merciing" and bowing until the train pulls out of the station, which emboldens them to join the soldiers in a cheer.
Through an opening between the railroad structures I see a brilliant lighting display. It is universal, this sign. Here is a movie in this tiny village. What a wonderful medium, to reach such an obscure town.