The people of Sugny were to be pitied. First they had been plundered by the flying French soldiers, the allies of the Belgians, who had taken along with them everything they could get together in a hurry, and now the Germans were acting in no better way. In a family of seven we were told that the French had taken away all the bread and meat. They had gone through all the cupboards and shelves, and had even stolen the gold watches belonging to the daughters of the house. These and similar tales we heard from several families of the place, and what at first we did not think possible on our side we now beheld with our own eyes--even our well-trained soldiers robbed, pillaged, and stole. War makes no difference between friend and foe. The roaring of the guns, which could be heard very distinctly, kept the inhabitants in constant fear and excitement, so that we were finally quite able to understand why those people prayed to God to be so kind as to give victory to the Germans. An old inn-keeper explained to me in fairly fluent German: "You see it is not that we are for Germany. Heaven forbid! We are just Belgians and are so accustomed to it that we would rather remain Belgians to the end of our lives. But if the Germans had to retreat now, the French would come again and our village would again become the scene of battle. The little left to us would then be a prey to the flames. Therefore the Germans must win." And then he began praying again. That part of the country had twice harbored the French, and now we Germans were there. That the population suffered from want and hunger was not to be wondered at, and often we divided our rations with the severely tried people. Myself and two mates had given our "iron ration" (preserved meat and vegetables and a bag of biscuits) to a woman "blessed" with eight children. At the call we could not show our "iron one," so we each of us had to mount guard twice as a punishment for that feeble proof of our charity. Our half-file leader, Lieutenant Spahn, expressed the opinion that pity was idiocy, and if the woman had eight children it was her own concern. Then he concluded literally with great emphasis, "In war everybody is his own nearest neighbor, even if all around us die in a ditch."