"
One night during this blizzard, which blew with such fury as I have
never seen before, we were lost. At one time we were headed directly
for the German lines, which were close, but an American sentry stopped
us before we had gone very far, demanding in stern tones: "Where are
youse guys goin' that direction?"
I replied: "To Toul."
"To Toul! You're going straight toward the Boche lines. Turn around.
You're the third truck that's got lost in this blizzard. Back that
opposite way is your direction."
The morning after it had cleared it was worth all the discomfort to see
the hills and fields of France. One group of hills which I had heard
were the most heavily fortified in all France, loomed like two huge
sentinels before the city. The Germans knew this also, and military
experts say that that is the reason why they did not try to reach Paris
by this route in the beginning of the war.
We were never permitted on these hills, but we had seen them belch fire
many a time as the German airplanes came over the city.
But on this morning, after three days of snow, those great black hills
were transformed, covered with a pure white blanket. The trees were
robed in white. Not a spot of black appeared. Even the great guns on
the top of the hill looked like white fingers pointing toward Berlin.
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