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70 WITH THE GERMAN ARMIES IN THE WEST
out. They are from the south of France, most of them from
Marseilles—that is to say they belong to the 15th Army Corps.
Here we also meet Colonel von Rath, whose acquaintance I
had made in Breslau.
Dannevoux had been horribly knocked about by shells,
and was still far from safe. The next day we heard that
General von Gossler had miraculously escaped being hit by
a shell which had dropped hardly twenty metres from the
spot where he was standing.
We mount the car once more to travel the six kilometres
which separate us from the little village of Septsarges, in a
south-westerly direction. On our left, hardly a kilometre
distant, was a little coppice which had been bombarded that
very morning. The day before yesterday the French had
learnt from spies amongst the civil population or through
one of their aviators that this was an important Beobach-
tungstand, or observation station, and yesterday a thousand
shells were rained upon it, but by that time the observers
had already withdrawn and only left a picket behind, who
found the necessary shelter in a bomb-proof cave.
The road we take is within the range of the French batteries,
and now and again a shell drops by the roadside. The ground
is pitted with the marks of shell fire, but we manage to steer
clear. We are as yet concealed by a slight rise in the ground
south of the road. It was lucky that a httle accident that
happened to the car compelled us to stop just at this point. A
little further on we should have been in sight of the French
observation posts, and should no doubt have drawn their
fire. The French artillery is exceedingly vigilant and considers
it can afford to waste ammunition even on single individuals.
I am worried by an inquisitive wasp buzzing round me and
contrast it vaguely in my mind with the somewhat larger
winged creatures issuing from the muzzles of the guns. Once
more the car is ready to start. " Drive quickly over the high
ground," orders Major Matthiasz, but it is easier said than
done ; this by-road is narrow and has been converted into a
perfect quagmire with enormous ruts by all the heavy traffic
it has had to bear. We have to be content with such speed
as we can manage, and trust that the French observers will
not notice us or that their directions will not be obeyed
until we are over the hill. On the left, towards the south,
are two French captive balloons. It is a little unpleasant to
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