The Birmingham age-herald., 1919-12-07

 ners. The burying parties had to work
 in the dark, as lights of any descrip- tion would have betrayed their pres ence to stray snipers. When the sim pie ceremony of consigning the fallen | comrade to the earth was concluded small wooden cross with his name and
 the number of his regiment and the
 date of his death was put up to mark his grave. Sometimes the ground was retaken by the enemy the very next day. sometimes the temporary grave yard was fought over again and again,
 and the cross lost in the confusion During the war, widows and orphans were not allowed to visit the tombs at the front. Men with influence some l times managed to get there and were 1 allowed to search for their dead, but these cases were quite exceptional. When the armistice was signed a-cer- tain number of permits were given every week to people who wanted to l visit the spot where their dear ones had fallen. The journey was long and tire some. As a rule they were forced to walk for many miles from the nearest railway terminus to the battlefield.
 Even if the railway line did run to the i spot it was probably out of repair or reserved for the troops. Sometimes l friendly soldiers gave them lift in 1 their military automobiles, but as rule ] the poor mourners had to depend on i themselves for covering the long dis 1 tances
 l Now that nearly year has elapsed | since sthe signing of the armistice and l that the battlefields have beep put more or less in order the French railway i authorities are running special trains 1 from Paris to the front-yesterday, to-
 day and tomorrow October S1. Novem- 1 Der l and 2)-for the All Souls and All
 Saints days ceremonies.
 They are reserved exclusively for | mourners. only widows, orphans, fath- CTS and mothers or grandfathers and
 mothers of the deceased being allowed
 to utilize them. They only pay quar- 1 ter of the ordinary fare. these facili- | ties being accorded not only on the | trains running from Paris to the bat l tlefields. but from the starting place wherever that may be. Travellers are 1 expected to produce evidence that they have lost a near relative at the front, | when buying the ticket. A death cer- l tificate or other similar document is regarded as sufficient The trains
 start from Paris in the middle of the night and the destination is reached
 sometime in the morning. The mourn
 CTS come back in special trains in the afternoon and evening of the same l day.
 When the mourners reach the battle fields the saddest part of their task 1 begins. Some have precise indications | of where son or husband fell. Com | rades have been able to supply exact | details. But for the most part there 1 is weary. heart-breaking and often 1 fruitless search. Those who knew the 1 spot before the war say that they can not recognize even the commonest landmarks. The farm they visited as children is a mass of charred ruins | tivated are ploughed up by heavy | shells. The orchard presents woeful picture All the fruit trees have been l sawed down, and the ground is covered with noxious weeds. It is not easy | to make ones way among the tangles of barbed wire, w-ile parties of Ger man prisoners are clearing up the mess l by degrees. The occasional explosion of shell by the workers is the only l sound that breaks the mournful silence. 1 Small parties of women hurry with l feverish haste from cross to cross
 They hope to identify the grave of 1 their beloved The flowers that they purchased in Paris at the cost of
 meal. are fading visibty. When, and 1 if they discover the last resting place 1 of dear son. or husband. they will l no longer be fresh enough for their | last sad service Some of the mourn CTS weep quietly as they wander | through the QeSOldle llcluS, olHcio | smothered their sobs. unwilling to un- nerve the st6cs who are in need of
 all their reserve strength to restrain their grief.
 Winter has set in unusually early in northern France. Flowers from gar dens are already frost bitten, and of no use for purposes of decoration. The
 usual supply from Italy and the Ri- viera is not forthcoming owing to
 difficulties of transport. The florists are, therefore. compelled to rely on the home supplies grown in green or hot houses near Paris for the making of the thousands and thousands of | wreaths that are needed for the ceme- teries.
 Only the vefs rich can afford real 1 flowers this year. Others fall back on | the wreath or cross, ,saade of artificial l flowers so true to nature that it needs | an expert to discover the difference. | There are the wreaths made of ever l greers and the bouquets of everlast- | ings Cor the slender purse. The French l are also fond of wreaths made of multi | colored beads On wire, twisted to look 1 like flowers. Although they do not have the freshness of the real flower, they last indefinitely and look well l to the end.
 But every variety of wreath is be | yond price" this year, and it was cer- l tain that the greater part of the lone | ly tombs at the front would remain bare. The officer in charge of the military cemetery ac Noyon, Adjutant Dross, foreseeing this. made. an ap- peal to the French public. He pointed
 out that no better use could be made | of the flags bought to celebrate the | victory last July f4. the French na | tional holiday. than to send them to the front to be used to drape the tombs of the glorious fallen. There they make patch of color in the deso- l lation of the fields of battle. and pre- vent the weary travellers from carry ing away a picture of neglected and intended graves.
 For one day at least. their graves are a mass of bunting, and mourning nte9 change into rejoicing at this vis- ible sign that husband or son has not
 fallen in vain.
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