event it proved quite useless, as he continued to pat the Tommies
affectionately and to bombard them with impracticable suggestions.

We were joined later by three villagers, two gendarmes and a postman,
and all pulling together we managed to extract the rod from the tree. A
large lorry was passing, and on to it we heaved the wreckage. Up
clambered the Tommies followed by their unwelcome friend, who managed to
sit on the only unbroken portion of the side-car. This was too much for
Messrs. Atkins' equanimity. Limp with laughter, we watched them pass
from sight amidst a chorus of "Ong, ong," followed by flights of oratory
in the English tongue which do not bear repeating, but which were
received by the peasant as expressions of deep esteem and to which he
replied by endeavouring to kiss the Tommies and shouting, "Vive
l'Angleterre! Allright! Hoorah!"

Our guiding officer began to show some signs of anxiety to have us leave
before ten o'clock, but the good-byes took some time. Presents were
showered upon us--German _dragées_ (shell heads and pieces of shrapnel)
and the real French _dragées_, the famous sweet of Verdun.

We crept out of the city, but unfortunately at one of the dangerous
cross-roads our chauffeur mistook the route. A heavy bombardment was
taking place, and the French were replying. We were lucky enough to get
on to the route and into safety before any shell fell near us. It
appears that the Germans systematically bombard the roads at night,
hoping to destroy the _camions_ bringing up the food for the city, fresh
munitions, and men.

We slept that night at Bar-le-Duc and next morning saw the various
ambulances and hospitals which the Service de Santé had particularly