The Pleasantville press. (Pleasantville, N.J.) 1912-1929, 1918-08-10

because it is chiefly machine made.
The scenes of popular fancy-the
kind one reads about in history and
which have been perpetuated in poet
ry and on canvas-are relics of the
past. Seldom, il ever, anything ap-
preaching them occurs on the western
front, in spite of the staggering amount
of men and war equipment used.
War has been revolutionized and the
second battle of the Marine proved it
the battle in which the American ex-
peditionary forces by their dash and
courage added luster to the folds of
Old Glory.
There were no swapping flags or mar
tial music to thrill our men in olive
drab. They did not march into the
fray en- masse nor to the front in any
thing resembling the average civilians
conception of the entry of troops into
battle.
They arrived IN French trucks driv-
en- by Hindu-C Chinese chauffeurs in
clouds of dust, tumbled off, scurried
to cover and took up the camouflaged
positions made necessary by the Sc
verest open fighting of the war. They
became in a jiffy part of the army in
visible.
Feature of Modern Warfare.
And right there develops a feature
that is one of the most curious of all
modern warfare-the successful con-
cealment of whole divisions and corps.
Nobody who has not been privileged
to go to the front and travel back of
the lines can begin to appreciate the
marvel. 1t is a case of doing a Kellar-
the-Great with an army-by modern
military le~gerdemain, making thou
sands of men, horses, mules, guns,
great and small, disappear as if the
earth had swallowed them.
You can motor along country high
ways through the most delightful farm
ing country and scarcely catch a
glimpse of the army as you go, save
the truck and ambulance trains in the
rear, the sentries and staff and regi-
mental headquarters. The fighting
units are strung out owe country plow-
ed and seeded for this seasons crops,
but you don't see enough of them to
conclude that there is even a good
sized regiment on the job.
Thus has the art of ~camouf1age been
devoloped-a new and interesting sci
ence of modern warfare still in its pri-
mary stages in spite of all that has
been done.
AS you motor well within the zone
Of high explosives, shrapnel and gas,
you catch fleeing glimpses of men and
animals and chow guns between the
foliage, and batteries ~ingeniously
screened from the eagle eyes and the
lenses of enemy aviators and balloon
observers. You are astounded to note
how cleverly the topography and the
beauties of nature have been pressed
into use in the scheme of concealment
and deception known as ~camoufage.
Army Sleight-of- Hand.
The army straightforward has become
such a big and necessary feature of
war that every army post has its an
mex of war scenery which reminds you
of a visit back to the stage between
theatrical performances. The most
skilled artists are doing their bit in
this respect, nor are %camouflage eff
fects confined to them. 1t is amusing
to see how army cooks and buck pri-
Yates shield themselves and their
kitchens and their animals. Camou-
aage certainly offers opportunity for
development limited only by the skill
and c%leverness of the individual and
materials offered by nature.
When our men were rushed into the
flood of strife on the Marine and re-
lieved French units tagged by days
and nights Of incessant fighting, hurl-
ed back the Germans with heavy loss
es, and held the highway to Paris, they
passed thousands of refugees who had
hurriedly evacuated farms and ham,
lets and towns.
These refugees were exhausted by
fright and travel and loss of sleep.
They were pushing wheelbarrows or
baby carriages containing all the
household treasures that they had been
able to save, while others with more
warning and greater facilities, rode on
carts great and small, piled high with
chairs and bedding and mirrors and
pictures.
Little tots slept in the eddies of
these loads. l saw n huge load
drawn by six oxen the color of milk.
The head of the house was driving
and his wife and four children were
perched on the load. Dangling from
the back was a bicycle, & dolls car
riage, and In the latter were tucked
a toy gun and sword and a French
doll with one eye. The owner in her
mothers lap on high had her favorite
dolly clutched to her little breast.
Anywhere for Safety.
The child was crying and so was
her mother. Most of the refugees were
solemn-faced, stunned, stole. They
were rafting over the roads anywhere
for safety, away from the Hun shells
and ~D0iConOTS VaDOrS whom clouds Of