Those words gave me a shock, for I had heard that German officers always tried to encourage the Belgians in their wrong opinion about the alleged violation of Netherland neutrality, but I had not been able to believe it. With an innocent face I asked the officer:
"Where did the Germans cross Netherland territory?"
"Near Maastricht. You know where Maastricht is?"
And he summoned me to look at the map, where he pointed out to me where Maastricht was.
"Hullo!" I said, "but in those days I was in and about Maastricht, but I never noticed anything of it."
"And yet it is so. Are you perhaps a Netherlander?"
"Oh yes, I am a Netherland journalist."
"Is that so? I beg your pardon, but won't you come with me? I suppose that you want a passport. I will take you to the commander."
He was quite upset, and evidently thought that the best plan was to muzzle me by taking me away from the others as quickly as possible.
I asked and got the commander's permission to travel to Liège by military train, and from there to The Netherlands, not only for myself, but also for a Netherland girl of nine years, whose parents in Amsterdam had repeatedly and persistently asked me to see whether there would be any possibility of letting their little girl come back from a Louvain boarding-school. The Sisters with whom she was let her go with me when I showed them a letter from her father. That child had already seen a good deal! The Sisters had fled with all the children at the time of the conflagration, and hidden themselves for days in a farm in the neighbourhood.