Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 157, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 July 1919 — SEEING BATTLEFIELDS AND RUINED AREAS OF FRANCE FOR FIRST TIME [ARTICLE]

SEEING BATTLEFIELDS AND RUINED AREAS OF FRANCE FOR FIRST TIME

Writer Describes Sensations Experienced at First Sight of Devasin Wakeof War—Admiration forthe Wonderful Spirit of the French People—Abandoned War Material on All Sides.

By C. 8. CLARK. Paris, France.—Standing amid the ruins of Fort Douamont, just beyond Verdun, and surveying the spectacle of ruined villages, the tortured earth, the wasted and shell-torn regions—the awful destruction and desolation stretching league after league in ev--1 ery direction —one does not feel that the peace terms handed to the German delegation at Versailles are too severe. One cannot look upon this work of fiends and feel that any punishment or any indemnities are 100 great for the nation responsible for the scenes that are everywhere apparent throughout the * northern part of France and Belgium. We followed the road taken by the second and third American armies on their way to the Argonne and Chateau Thierry sectors. Over hills, through valleys and quaint villages runs the road, as straight as an arrow for over a hundred kilometers, (about two kilometers to a mile) bordered on both sides by trees, which when their foliage is out, forms a complete archway of the road. So straight are the roads constructed by the government that frequently you can see the next town at a distance of ten miles, usually with the cathedral standing apparently at the head of the street Villages nestling on the hillsides or perched on the crest of a hill, come into view and disappear as we speed along an almost perfect “rue nationale" which connects the principal cities of Francq. Scenes of Great Beauty. These picturesque villages, with their houses of cement or stucco, redtiled roofs, upon a background of green, present a scene that would enrapture the heart of an artist. The colors of the scenery and the sky in France are Incomparable. Passing through Claye, Meaux and Montmirail toward Challons, there are acres of farm land on both sides of the roadway. Hundreds of acres are under cultivation and one wonders where the men and women who till the land come from, for often there are no houses in sight for many miles. At the inn of the “Gallant of the ' Green Castle” in Montmirail, we stopped for the night. The inn had not been heated for months and, of course, the bedding was very damp. Otherwise our rooms were most homelike and we spent a comfortable night. While the dew was still upon the grass we speeded toward St. Menehould and Verdun. Soon we came to within sight of the first grave—it was that of an aviator—in the center of a wheat field. The soldier had been buried whfere he fell. We passed hundreds of such graves during the next few hours. The roadway was becoming more uneven where the shell holes had not been filled up, and we found it necessary to reduce our speed. Entire villages were deserted, and gaping shell holes in the houses, the shattered roofs

Land the devastation needed no explanation. We passed abandoned airplanes, army trucks,- camions and guns of every description. We passed numerous German prison camps. Eight hundred thousand prisoners are being utilized wherever possible in repairing the buildings, roadways and the part of the damage they have done. The Debris of War. Nearing Verdun we came upon many storehouses filled with ammunition —shells, hand grenades, and other war material —that has never been from the containers. What to do with the tons and tons of this ammunition Is one of the af-ter-war problems. Mlles and miles of narrow-gauge railroad lines ■» were constructed over which the ammunition and supplies were sent to the front. These railroad tracks, for many miles, are still undisturbed. Not a single entire house remains standing in Verdun, at one time the home of 25,000 civilians. Where once there were homes is now only a mountain "of stones, brick, rubbish and gaping walls. The fort is intact —at no point did the German guns penetrate the walls. We walked through four miles of tunnels' under the forts, in which the inhabitants lived with the soldiers during a part of the time the city was under fire. Fort Donamont, ten miles beyond Verdun, is merely a heap of stones and debris, entirely surrounded for miles by tom and tortured earth resembling a plowed field, excepting for the the craters made by exploding shells. Here 'were the bones and skulls of dead Germans, empty shells, helmets and gas masks. Some of the dugouts remain in the hillsides. This is a most desolate spot on the earth excepting possibly “No Man’s Land” between Challons and Reims. Reluctantly we retraced our steps and returned to Ste. Menehould. Here we found an inn where we put up for the night. Bright and early with the sun at our backs we started on a 70-mile ride to Reims. By noon it was snowing hard. The road between Challons and Reims had not been put in as good repair as in some other sections. Shell holes forced us to proceed cautiously. Desolation Everywhere. We followed the Hindenburg line, which we crossed and recrossed several times during the morning. Miles of barbed-wire entanglements, dugouts, trenches and abandoned huts stretched along the roadway. No Man’s land stretched before ub for miles. We reached Fort de la Pompelle shortly after noon. The.fort had been leveled to the ground, but we were able to proceed 70 feet below the ground and along the tunnels leading to No Man’s land. The bones of dead boches and horses are still unburied. Here we found abandoned tanks and guns. Reims, a city of 125,000 before the war, with many fine public- buildings, including the cathedral, now has less than a dozen buildings standing and a population of 7,000 people. Refugees are just beginning to come back, and a few sh&ps are being opened. The beautiful cathedral with its wonderful .stained glass windows where kings have beep blessed, is a mass of ruins with nothing but the walls standing. German prisoners were removing the stones, bricks and mortar from where the roof had fallen to the auditorium below. It was estimated that it would take a hundred prisoners weeks to remove the debris. German prisoners are being used to repair the parts of the buildings that can be used as temporary quarters and in rebuilding the sewers and water systems. It was here we saw Germans hitched to wagons taking the

place of the horses they have killed or stolen. Work of Fiends. The members of our party shuddered as we gazed on the spectacle of this ruined city. Could this be the work of men or of fiends? Can such wounds be hehled? Can the Germans who inflicted this destruction ever obtain forgiveness? To those in America whose only interest in war has been a desire to get over here “before everything is all cleaned up.” I can send the message that they need not fret if they are delayed a year or two. Their children’s children will still look upon the ruins of Invaded France. With the sun of spring but a few days old, It already begins to smell bad in western Belgium and northeastern France. 1 JBones of men and horses are all about unburied. Great piles of ammunition and lines of trenches lie just as if the troops had marched away yesterday. No progress has been made in the restoration of homes, factories or stores. Mlle after mile we sped through wrecked towns and villages in which civilian residents are just being permitted to return. - Vicious Desecration. We stopped at a once famous country villa. The beautiful home had been occupied by German officers. When we went from room to room and found filthy pictures and obscene poems scribbled and scrawled upon the walls, when we found priceless tapestries with spikes deliberately driven through them, when we found statuary deliberately knocked about with rifle butts and everything movable carried away, we wonderech what sort of men had dwelt thereip. Just as it seemed our hearts could stand no more, we came upon a little group of laughing, klssing_ country folks —one of our party caught enough of the conversation to learn that mamma goat had just successfully increased the population with a baby goat—and France could even smile with so little assistance. We returned with increased admiration of the French nation and a greater appreciation of the hardships that had been endured so heroically. Martyrdom of France. No more pregnant emotion can grip the human Soul than those inspired by the scene we had beheld. Here men fought for empire and left their mark on nature. These ruined villages, this tortured earth, this awful desolation —stretching for miles in every direction —unite in showing tf’hat men will do when they put on the livery, of imperial militarism. We know now what prance has suffered, ahd we know that all she has lost is a loss to the whole world. Her awful martyrdom, her heroic endurance, her indomitable fortitude cry aloud from these heaps of stone which were once peaceful homes or the centers of Industrial prosperity, now stilled for a brief time only. In this war the spirit of evil sat upon the throne and sent his slaves, to challenge civilization. In the providence of God the end was certain. That end we saw on the battlefield, for there despotism died and the new justice for France and fer the cause of right was born. We returned to Paris through Chateau Thierry \yith the conviction that not a tenth of the devastation, destruction and looting has ever been told or ever can be. I have since read the peace terms with a new understanding and I do not wonder at their severity. , .