I go back to Bras over the same route that I came. The ruins of the village are flooded with mud. For a whole year, day in and day out, I was once at Bras, but then it was a pretty village with inhabitants——
To-day there is nothing more than ruins, mud and dead bodies——
PRAYER AT NIGHT, A LITTLE VILLAGE
IN SWITZERLAND.
December 26, 1916.
On entering the door, I hear Anne-Marie, who is saying her prayer du soir.
"Lil' Jesus, protect papa, who is at war, mamma, my grandparents, my little brothers——"
"Louder, Anne-Marie, the good God is neutral and does not hear——"
[FOOTNOTES:]
[21] Marmites—German shells of big caliber.—Tr.