Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1915-09-27
Natives of Eastern France Be-
Iieve 1t Has, But None
I. Knows to a Certainty.
HERBERT COREY VAiNLY
ENDEAVORS TO SEE SHAT
Goes Into the Trenches and Uses
Binoculars, But It Is Of No
Use, He Says.
BY HERBERT COREY.
Copyright 1915.

BIZ a61oGt4 S01sG4.
Copyright. 1879
STE. GENEvIEVE. in Eastern France,
August 2s.-Something of this story is
of Ste. Genevieve and something of
Pont "a -Mousson and something of Joan
of Arc and a miracle.
Those who have followed the story of
the war will recall the name of Point
a-Mousson. II has been bombarded
sixty times, or thereabouts. Twice it
changed hands al the hayonet point, I
believe. can see the shell hicks in its
factory chimneys through my glasses.
Some one says, reassuriugly. that only
three streets have been very badly
knocked to pieces. One of these streets
IS SO enfiladed by the German fire that
on one side of it passersby are in COM
parative safety. On the other they are
in superlative danger.
Ste Genevieve is little more than a
farm. Its dozen old stone houses have
been SCARED by shrapnel. In field
nearby there is a tomb where the
great folk of Ste. Genevieve lie buried.
A fight ragged round that tomb. and its
walls are pitted by bullets. Loopholes
for musketry were battered through
the wall of the churchyard. This morn
ing an old woman came out Of Ste.
with an air of comical wonder at
she'll hole in one of its age-mellowed
walls. She has not yet adjusted her
self to war. That hole was made four
months ago.
Between Ste. Genevieve and Pont-a-
Mousson Is the wide valley of the Mo-
selle. spanned by the white-arched six
teenth century bridge that gives Nous
"Pont." as the town is nicknamed, from
this hamlet Of Ste. Genevieve. 1t is
very far away. is the Pont. On the
range of hills behind it is that Bois-le
communicates with such sinister persis-
tence. The war has seen no more des-
perate fighting than on this line. AS l
stand watching, the German guns be-
yards apart on our way to the trenches.
A cluster of men would offer 4 target
to the invisible gunners.
Germans Fail to Hit Joan Statue.
Somewhere on one of the long slopes
that stretch from the Mosel1e to the
wood is the statue of Joan of Arc. 1t
is that statue I am particularly anxious
to see. Bombarded cities are singular
ly alike, and no doubt Pont-a-M ousson
resembles all others of its sort. with
its streets filed with rubble, and it's
wonderful women going quietly about
their business, and the French soldiers
behaving as though being under shell
fire Is particularly pleasant holiday.
j only wish to go to Pont-a-Mousson
that ! may ask questions about the
statue OF Joan. / have my doubts about
miracles in war time.
II was on the eth Of April that first
heard of the miracle. The French had
then held Pont-a-Mousson for some
time. One Of their observation stations
had been located near this statue. The
Germans knek where 1t was per-
fectiy well. my informant told me.
Every day they dropped shells about
been cut to pieces by them. The grass
was sown with shrapnel balls.
Two soldiers are in this post" said
the man who told me. They have been
bit Of shell has come near them. The
statue Is the finest mark for gunner
that was ever offered. The Germans
are very evidently trying for it. But
II Is not SO much as Scared.
Two Men Refuse to Leave.
The two soldiers who held the post
were offered relief. They were just
ordinary soldiers. said the man who
told me. That probably means they
were heroes. The whole French line
was under a general and impersonal
fire These men were being individually
sheiled by the best gunners in the Ger
man army. Every day or two shells
came from new angles and from new
voices of the cannon. They would not
accept the relief offered.
IT the Germans cannot hit Joan of
Arc. they can't hit u.s., was their reply.
month later-May %, to be precise
II heard of the statue again. At this
time il was estimated that 1000 shells
had been fred at it by the Germans.
The hillside had been torn to pieces.
earth. which had taken on a Aim of
sulphur yellow from the burned pow
der. The two observers were still there
and still unframed. The statue of Joan
OF Arc had not been touched.
The men at the Pont are all watch
ing it," said my friend upon his return
from that center of activity. They are
beginning to talk of miracle"
Some time in July the statue was
still unmarried. according TO a report
which l accept with reservations. The
man who told the story had not seen
IL, as had by original informant. He
merely repeated the gossip of the firing
line. Perhaps it has grown into a
legend. Perhaps the Maid of Orleans
has long ago been hurled from her
pedestal and the white marble has been
stained by the blood of her latest fol-
lowers. This morning I besought the
10 permit US to visit the Pont 1 want
ed to investigate the miracle.
Perhaps said he.
So we wound through a trench we
entered after leaving Ste. Genevieve.
Now and then we stood on the little
inner bastions. where rif1emen stand to
shoot at a charging enemy, and thrust
our heads up cautiously above the bat
Element We bore a singular likeness to
a row of perturbed turtles summing
themselves on log. Now and then we
heard the whistle of shrapnel or the
thin whine Of a passing. rifle ball. But
none came near enough to alarm US.
We searched the hillside through our
glasses for Joan of Arc in quite
peaceful spirit.
Here we must rum ordered our
cicerone.
But Others Saw the Statue.
The trench petered out completely
For perhaps 100 yards we trotted heav-
lily in the open. until we came to an
other trench into which we gratefully
descended. In that 100 yards we had
been in full view Of the enemy. The
shell fragments. Fortunately he was
looking another way. II may be added
that under selected conditions war cor
respondents trot almost as rapidly AZ
do those comic runners one sometimes
sees in a film. Pont-a -Mousson seemed
much nearer. Half an hours walk
NO" said our officer. Because"
He was armed with those utterly un-
convincing but absolutely hnal reasons
correspondents are continually meet
ing. BY and by We came to an odd lit =
tile old man who seemed to be living In
the trench. He was sort of hermit.