The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1918-02-01

ister warning is repeated in a mad- den1ng fashion. It is always on the same squares of white wood, fastened on posts high in the air, in as plain
 sight as possible: Watch out for gas keep your gas masks ready" They use 1t often in these parts, this cow ardly method of destruction, that they
 have dared to introduce into their warfare. When going through here
 our camions, rushing madIy along this "Via Dolorosa" loaded with soldiers, run the risk of passing through these clouds of smoke which would mean
 death to the men if they hesitate even few seconds to cover their faces. The Ruined Churches
 A great many of the ruins, those which grieve your heart the most even more than the houses, the old family mansions or humble little
 houses with gardens-are the ruins of the churches One feels they are gone forever. Who can ever rebuild these relics of our past which adorned our
 France so beautifully. Tn this prov ince they are truly wonderful and you
 know how the Boches have worked their pleasure on them. Yesterday, the flowers of the fields, the dande-
 lions, the tufts of peoples on the broken walls, hid their distress a lit tie. Today, under this gloomy rain, it seems as if they cried out for ven geance. The heavier Roman archi- lecture can better resist outrages than the Gothic with it's high ogives, its
 delicate festoons which twine about the panes of glass, and they are brok-
 en in a thousand pieces, broken be- yond recovery.
 | An, here by chance Is something to
 make you laugh in the midst of this
 horror. Some soldier-laborers, rep1ac-
 ing some slates on a partially des-
 troyed roof under which, doubtless
 they intend to take shelter for several
 days, have suspended wooden cross
 at the end of a packthread. In a
 place where shells fall daily this lit
 tie warning to their comrades to look
 out for falling slate is humorous and
 at the same time quite touching. | Showers of Mud
 | I rode swiftly for two hours and
 came at last to that region where can
 vases, heavy and light, stretch for
 kilometres to keep the enemy from
 seeing what passes back and forth
 along our roads. Just as those signs
 for the deadly gas, this cloth which
 seems to have no end gives a grave warning. It seems to say: Watch
 out. You are in danger here. With
 out us the Germans would see you
 now" But I have rain with me to.
 night a heavy rain which has never
 stopped and soon the twilight vii
 hide me more.
 It has become a veritable deluge
 and is unusually cold. The first win } ter chill falls on your shoulders as the day grows dark before the usual houI , under the thick clouds. run now be tween two showers of mud whicl makes splotches on the ruins and a l the same time splash the poor soldiers ' grouped in the embrazures, looking > for want of anything better to do, a l the conveys going by. When it is no 2 necessary that I should hurry I go 5 little slower that they might be les r spattered even though I must star on my return journey before nigh  - sions, I ought then to be out of tn , danger zone, where it is forbidden t r light your lamps.
 :. But what is the use of slowing dow l when those camions, always rushing r by in heavy laundering lines, throy r up thicker and higher showers. A g for the mud, it counts for nothin , now. It was only an affair, of the frs r few moments for they had becom g unaccustomed to it during whol = season. But, after all, one soon be }, comes used to it. What does it mat ] ter, a little more or less. "One = warmer when they are well coated, d said one of them to me with a joll 5 laugh.
 k Since they have gained experienc l. with itin ouR French trenches they ar 1T prepared for it better and better. N st more is there the terrible suffering ( 1t the first winter. Now there are way st to warm themselves down there, t l, have light, even to have childish flu e and forget their troubles. When on e- looks back on those days of yesterda 'e with their beautiful sunshine an is calm nights it seems that war the J. was only play compared with what l. is today, with its long, dark nights, i n cold and frost.
 Oh Poor, bTavs fellows, who's
 courage never fails, how do those b, st hind your lines dare for an instant 1 le forget you, to complain for lack m heat, for lack of luxury or comfort D. The twilight and the rain show IT of that night is soon to envelope me, tt d one hastening the other. Yes, it seen K to me that I have never seen so clea IS ly before these desolated places tn oe cross and which ought to be so fl a miliar to me now. They pass by col l. tinually as though marching to must re the great orchestra of the ever-h To creasing sound of the firing of cal ut non on both sides of the road. In evel d, direction it is the same and it is u ne same in a hundred or two hundrt re places-cities. villages destroyed, the e. stones soWn in chaos on the groun ed trees cut down and strewn over u It. orchards, their branches dying.
 This is what happened to our de- ey France, done by the rage of Barba
 a Iians! It is horrible reality. One mu he tell Of it, and repeat 1t, and keep (