Paths Of Glory: Impressions Of War Written At And Near The Front (The Collected Works Of Irvin S. Cobb 61 Volumes)

By (author): "Irvin S. Cobb"
Publish Date: 1915
Paths Of Glory: Impressions Of War Written At And Near The Front (The Collected Works Of Irvin S. Cobb   61 Volumes)
ISBN1582016054
ISBN139781582016054
AsinPaths Of Glory: Impressions Of War Written At And Near The Front (The Collected Works Of Irvin S. Cobb 61 Volumes)
Excerpt: ...be marvelously modest touching on their own performances in the event of their surviving those most fatal blandishments. Pretty soon we told the Staff good night, according to the ritualistic Teutonic fashion, and took ourselves off to bed; for the next day was expected to be a full day, which it was indeed and verily. In the hotels of the town, such as they were, officers were billeted, four to the room and two to the bed; but the commandant enthroned at the Hotel de Ville looked after our comfort. He sent a soldier to nail a notice on the gate of one of the handsomest houses in Laon-a house whence the tenants had fled at the coming of the Germans-which notice gave warning to all whom it might concern that Captain Mannesmann, who carried the Kaiser's own pass, and four American Herren were, until further orders, domiciled there. And the soldier tarried to clean our boots while we slept and bring us warm shaving water in the morning. Being thus provided for we tramped away through the empty winding streets to Number Five, Rue St. Cyr, which was a big, fine three-story mansion with its own garden and courtyard. Arriving there we drew lots for bedrooms. It fell to me to occupy one that evidently belonged to the master of the house. He must have run away in a hurry. His bathrobe still hung on a peg; his other pair of suspenders dangled over the footboard; and his shaving brush, with dried lather on it, was on the floor. I stepped on it as I got into bed and hurt my foot. Goodness knows I was tired enough, but I lay awake a while thinking what changes in our journalistic fortunes thirty days had brought us. Five weeks before, bearing dangerously dubious credentials, we had trailed afoot-a suspicious squad-at the tail of the German columns, liable to be halted and locked up any minute by any fingerling of a sublieutenant who might be so minded to so serve us. In that stressful time a war correspondent was almost as popular, with the officialdom of...