Page:War's dark frame (IA warsdarkframe00camp).pdf/235

 HE next morning was dull and depressing and as cold as early winter. As one does out there, we studied the direction of the wind first of all, and inspected our gas masks. We fancied that with less sun the German cannons might bark less viciously, but as we drove on, huddled in our coats, the clouds promised to break, Williams left us for a moment at a division headquarters. No officers lounged there. The streets were nearly empty of uniforms. Williams came out, looking as if he had heard something unexpected.

"The Huns are strafing the main road," he said to the driver.

"Go the other way."

Outside the village a Canadian Highlander stopped us and examined our passes. He seemed very particular. He had an appearance of wondering what the deuce we wanted inside the lines that morning

Just beyond we left the main road and twisted through country lanes, while out of the morbid, threatening morning was born the hateful gun