During the last days hundreds of lads had left Louvain for The Netherlands, and the migration went on throughout the whole occupied part of Belgium. It was the exodus of the levies of 1914 and 1915, who had been called up, and many of whom had been sent to Germany as prisoners. The Germans themselves had not a little furthered the flight of these crowds; by proclamations they had warned the lads not to try to escape, for otherwise all of the levies of '14 and '15 would be taken prisoners, and the parents of the fugitives would be punished. At Heverlee and Louvain the lads of both levies had to present themselves every Friday at this station. The consequence was that the following Friday not one single boy of those levies was to be found in either place.
No more wounded were taken to the hospitals of Louvain, as it had been decided to send them straight on to Germany for the present; yet there were many wounded men who were being nursed there already, and the doctors had their hands full attending to the wounded who passed the town. Dr. Noyons told me that the previous Sunday a train with 600 wounded had arrived from Northern France, and he and his assistants had been requested "just" to dress the wounds again of some of them. The condition of these unfortunate men must have been awful; not one had a dressing less than eight days old. Most of them had had it on much longer, and then these were merely emergency dressings. They were laid on straw in cattle trucks, many of them even in filth, and infection had worsened their condition to a great extent. Dr. Noyons and his colleagues tried to give the poor fellows as much relief as possible, but as a matter of course they could not do very much during a short stay at a station.
The general condition of the town was not calmer during these last days. New hostages were taken continually, and generally, as before, they were clerics, in consequence of which the religious services were in a continual muddle, and sometimes on Sundays no Holy Mass could be said. Burgomaster Nerinx had now posted proclamations in which he called for volunteers to serve as temporary hostages, instead of the priests, during the hours of religious service. As if it were office work they mentioned: "The service begins in the afternoon at ... o'clock and will end after ... days at ... o'clock."
It was self-evident that very few were keen to offer themselves as temporary substitutes for the clerics.
I have, happily, not seen much of the distressing flight of the Antwerp population, as I happened to be at Liège when the fortress fell into German hands. I went to Zundert viâ Maastricht and Breda, in order to go to the conquered fortress from that Netherland frontier-town, north-east of Antwerp.
A good many refugees were on their way to The Netherlands, but the bulk of the crowd had passed before my visit along the long road which I walked now in the opposite direction. I did not arrive in Antwerp before nightfall and was then very tired. The town was dark, dismal, and deserted, and only German soldiers went about in the streets, apparently looking in vain for a shop or café where they might find some diversion. I myself, exhausted by a walk of twenty-five miles, sauntered along, constantly looking for some place or other to pass the night. Not a shop or hotel was open, and yet my stomach was craving for food, my body for rest. At last I met a policeman and told him of my difficulty.
"Yes, sir," he answered, "that will be difficult enough. Everybody has fled, even my own wife and children. I remained because I thought it was my duty, and now I have been tramping through the streets already for over twenty-four hours, without being relieved. It seems that by far the greater number of my colleagues fled also."
"Don't you think you could find me some hotel, or private people who might put me up?"
"I am very much afraid I shan't be able, but come along, and we'll try together."
So we went from street to street, without any result. He rang the bell at many houses where he knew that acquaintances lived, but always in vain, and at last the kind man had to give it up.