Ashland tidings. [volume] (Ashland, Or.) 1876-1919, 1919-06-06

VdDoul5. lueTo WAS mUTc TOndutic
explanation, too, for one of the
Grown Princes mistresses was said
to he living there. Anyway, the
town wasn't shot up and people
went around az unconcerned as II
they had been a hundred miles
away. Then one day, right at the
very last, the Germans began to
shell the place One shot struck the
town hall, but there wasn't much
damage done, on the whole; but you
ought to have seen the people scut-
tie for cover"
We ate that night in the dining
room of the hotel-now what in the
dickens is the name? st. Nicholas, ]
think. You might ask some Of the
boys if they know. 1t is just oppo-
site the X. Of c, was reminded of
the old country hotels in the States.
One went into the kitchen and
washed in the sink and wiped upon
dear old roller toweL had n
comb and four of us used it. The
women in the kitchen were wonder
ing what was for it was the firs.
navy uniform they had seen. They
pointed to the stars on my collar and
wanted to know If were some sort
of general because French generals
wear stars; admitted modestly that
/ wasn't exactly general, not yet.
A colonel then perhaps? Well, some
thing like that maJbe. So as a
colonel dn the navy received nice
soft, fresh towel all to myself to
wipe my most dirty face on. / won.
der If any of the fellows at home
ever ate in that dining room? II
SO, they will remember the large
oval table around which a dozen or
| fifteen can sit. There were about
eight or ten of us, the four fellows |
was with, another navy man who
had come on the same train, and
two or three OF the soldiers who hap
pen to be stationed in Ste. Men
chould. One of the four of whom |
have spoken, had been a prisoner in
Germany for six months.
"He was captured in July" the
one sitting next to me. said. eve
supposed he had been killed until
We learned sometime in December
that he was prisoner, but would
be freed shortly. He got back TO
us on Christmas eve; you can mag
inc what sort of a celebration we
had. You would hardly think now,"
he went on, looking at his comrade
speculatively. that he was the
same fellow. For some time he.
like the rest, had been fed partly on
roots"
stayed that night at the X of
c. and was up early the next morn
ing to see whatever there was for
seeing in Ste. Menehould. 1t was
here, remembered, that a queen
regent was once forced to bargain
with a crowd of rebel mobiles to Sc
cure at any price the safety of her
sons crown. The town of those
days no longer exists, having been
destroyed and left SO during the
later wars which sopped Northern
France in blood. The present town
dates from its restoration under the
old monarchy some time prior to the
Revolution. 1t is like any one of
thousand other French towns, twist
ing, cobble-stoned streets, Gathering
Itwo-whdeled carts, heavy grey blank
walled houses with small, deeply
set windows. and red-tiled roofs
It is French, typically French, in
everything from its souvenir shops
to its system of sanitation.
Out beyond the city is one unfor-
gettable sight. It looks at first sight
like a widis-spreading garden of gay
ly red poppies in full bloom. The
poppies are the headboards, in which
the red appears most prominently,
of fifteen thousand French graves,
where lie the soldiers who fell in the
first battle of the Argonne. Many
of them are but six inches apart:
the sight is fascinating, bewilder-
ing, tragic Death ceases to be an
abstract term; here you stand in
the Real Presence of sacrifice
which was truly one of "bounden
duty and service"
The train chugged in from Chal-
ons and VIE just did manage to catch
it, tho from its average rate of
speed do think we could have CIV
en- it half an hours start and then
caught up with 1t with moderately
rapid walking. Soon we were jog
eing comfortably thru the Argonne.
The sole reminders of war here were
the trenches which zig-zagged thru