New Britain herald., 1917-04-12
AMERICAN WOMAN IN
 WAR-BITTEN LAND
Chairman Of Surgical Dressings Committee Writes of Experiences

Thrilling experiences at the war front by Miss Carita Spencer, chair man of the National Surgical Dress Spencer in this weeks installment of news concerning the activities of the committee, which has a local branch consisting of number of society leaders. Miss Spencer was the guest of Belgium's queen and she had many adventures which befall few American women at home or abroad. Part of the recital of her journey. as penned by herself, follows:
 The train crawled on about as fast as 8 horse would jog. I was hungry, as, with civilian-like lack of fore thought, I had provided myself with no lunch or dinner. sat close to the window, looking for lights of Calias, which never came. The train stopped and kindly conductor with a white badge on his arm, which shows that he is mobilized helped me to stumble out in the dark. There had been 8 'Zep" alarm, and not a single light was visible in the overcast night. I pushed along with groups of soldiers AhtO SAO oSdIAOAl, VuCIC, HI 1I 1nLcE room, an officer sat at small table with a small shaded lamp and ex- amined passports. He was duly suspicious of me until showed him the legation paper. Stumbling and groping like the blind man in Blind Mans Buff," was finally rescued by a small boy who piloted me across the bridge to a door which he said was the C. hotel. They refused to give me food because not even a candle was permitted. In the dark I went to bed.
 In the Queens Motor Car.
 The palace motor car came prompt ly at 12:3O and I got into it with my little bag, wondering whether I was going into Belgium to remain two hours, two days or two weeks. T noticed that the car had seen service. The glass was cracked even where protected by wire netting and the upholstering was threadbare in spots, but there was nothing the matter with the engine, and we whizzed along at goOdly pace. And now began what call the saluting habit. All the two weeks that I was in Belgian soil was of course never unattended, and if any passing soldier did not salute the officer at my side or the official motor in which I rode, I was con- scious of an extraordinary omission.
 My official motor carried a special horn which cleared the road of man and beast. The fields on all sides were titled. I wondered who the workers were, when what do you think I saw? Forty children in a l row, boys and girls, all ages, from the 1 little tot to the boy who would next 1 year be in the army, each with a hoe. In front of them stood an old man who beat time with a stick while the children piled the hoe, and I warrant they had a happy time doing it. | In small villa I met the Queen. pretty, charming and gracious. with wonderful eyes that seemed to look straight through me and beyond. We talked for quite long time, and she asked me what would interest me most to see in the little corner of Belgian Belgium. I replied that should like to see everything that was being done in a constructive way for the soldiers, civilians, children. With the promise that my wish would be gratified I took my leave.
 What in the world Is straw fixed up that way for?" I asked.
 That is 8 curtain of straw which stretches for miles along the road behind the trenches to hide our motors from the enemy. A motor means an officer. and if they could see us we would not be here long,"
 i We stopped behind the straw screen and got out, crawling under it into a communication trench. I had better call them ramparts, for this district, you know, was the inundated land of the Yser. One hundred yards in this winding alley of concrete and sand bag wall and we reached the main trench, a solid substantial rampant of concrete, sand-bags and earth, with the grass growing on the side facing the enemy.
 Here the soldiers on duty lived in their little cubby-holes in the wall And, if .ou please, do not suppose that these domiciles went unnamed or unadorned. One was inscribed Villa Netienfaispas"- Worry.
 How commonplace trench life has become after these two long years Of habit! Nowadays men do not go to. the office and the shop. They go 10 the trenches for daily duties. These trenches we were in were mainline, where the enemy was not supposed to penetrate unless rude enough actually to break through. So. the soldiers portioned off the rough earth beside the board walk that ran parallel to the rampant, and first they had a little vegetable garden, and next to it for beauty's sake a little flower garden and next to that s> little graveyard, and then the succession repeated. Five hundred yards beyond the main lines, across the inundated fields streaked with barbed wire stick ing up out of the water, was the front line trench. a rougher rampant, mostly of earth, and when it rained-oh mud! I sat outside on a bench one morn