Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1916-02-13

Trenches of the Vosges Most Curious
OF all the trenches the most curious
were those of the Vosges. They were
the most curious because. to use the
last word one associates, with trenches.
they are the most beautiful.
We started for the trenches of the
vosges from a certain place close to
the German border. 1t was so close
that in the inn a rifle bullet from
| across the border had bored hole in
, the cafe mirror.
The car climbed steadily The swollen
| rivers flowed far below us and then
away on one side of the road and
rose on the other became smothered
under giant pines. Above US they
reached to the clouds. below us swept
Vas no sign of human habitation. not
even the hut of charcoal burner.
Except for the road. we might have
been the first explorers of primeval
forest. We seemed as far removed
from the France of cities. cultivated
acres. stone bridges and chateaux as
Rip Van Wrinkle lost in the Catskills.
The silence was the silence of the
ocean.
We halted at what might have been
cabins OF huge green logs with the
moss still fresh and clinging, and
smoke poured from mud chimneys. In
the air was an enchanting odor of
only a man in a mackinaw coat with
an AK to persuade us we had motored
from French village ten hundred
years old into perfectly new trading
post on the Saskatchewan
But from the lumber camp the
colonel appeared, and with him in the
lead we started up a hill as sheer as
church roof. The freshly cut path
reached upward in short ziszag lengths
Its outer edge was shored with the
trunks of the trees cut down to make
way for it. They were fastened with
stakes. and against rain and snow
helped to hold it in place The soil
as the path showed, was of a pink
stone. 1t cuts easily and is the stone
from which cathedrals have been built
That suggests that 70 an ambitious
young sapling it offers little nutri-
ment. but the pines. at least. seem to
thriyen on it: They lowered over us
to the height of eight stories. The
ground beneath was hidden by the
most exquisite moss. and moss climbed
the branches. They looked, as though
to guard them from the cold, they had
oeen swathed in green velvet Except
Tor the pink path, we were in a world
OF green; green moss. green ferns.
green tree trunks, green shadows. The
little light that reached from above
was like that which filters through
the glass plates Of an aquarium.
Compared to the Adirondacks.
1t was very beautiful. but was it war;
We might have been in the Adiron-
.dacks in the private camp of one of
our men of millions. You expected to see
the fire warden's red poster warning
you to stamp out the ashes and to be
careful where you threw matches.
Then the path dived into a trench with
pink walls. and overhead arches of
green branches rising higher and
higher. until they interlocked and
shut out the sky. The trench led to a
barrier of logs as round as flour bar
rel. the openings plugged with moss
and the whole hidden in fresh pine
boughs. 1t reminded you of those open
barricades used in boar hunting, and
behind which the German emperor
awaits the onslaught of thoroughly
terrified pigs.
Like bird nest it chung to the side
of the hill, and across the valley look
ed at a sister hill quarter of a mile
away
"On that HILL said the colonel, ION
a level with us. are the Germans"
Had he told me that among the pine
trees across the valley Santa Claus
manufactured his toys and stabbed his
reindeer I would have believed him.
Had humpbacked dwarfs with boards