A WOMAN'S EXPERIENCES IN THE GREAT WAR BY LOUISE MACK (Mrs. CREED) AUTHOR OF "AN AUSTRALIAN GIRL IN LONDON" _With 11 full-page Illustrations_ LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN Ltd 1915 [Illustration: THE AUTHOR.] CONTENTS CHAPTER I. CROSSING THE CHANNEL II. ON THE WAY TO ANTWERP III. GERMANS ON THE LINE IV. IN THE TRACK OF THE HUNS V. AERSCHOT VI. RETRIBUTION VII. THEY WOULD NOT KILL THE COOK VIII. "YOU'LL NEVER GET THERE" IX. SETTING OUT ON THE GREAT ADVENTURE X. FROM GHENT TO GRAMMONT XI. BRABANT XII. DRIVING EXTRAORDINARY XIII. THE LUNCH AT ENGHIEN XIV. WE MEET THE GREY-COATS XV. FACE TO FACE WITH THE HUNS XVI. A PRAYER FOR HIS SOUL XVII. BRUSSELS XVIII. BURGOMASTER MAX XIX. HIS ARREST XX. GENERAL THYS XXI. HOW MAX HAS INFLUENCED BRUSSELS XXII. UNDER GERMAN OCCUPATION XXIII. CHANSON TRISTE XXIV. THE CULT OF THE BRUTE XXV. DEATH IN LIFE XXVI. THE RETURN FROM BRUSSELS XXVII. "THE ENGLISH ARE COMING" XXVIII. MONDAY XXIX. TUESDAY XXX. WEDNESDAY XXXI. THE CITY IS SHELLED XXXII. THURSDAY XXXIII. THE ENDLESS DAY XXXIV. I DECIDE TO STAY XXXV. THE CITY SURRENDERS XXXVI. A SOLITARY WALK XXXVII. ENTER LES ALLEMANDS XXXVIII. "MY SON!" XXXIX. THE RECEPTION XL. THE LAUGHTER OF BRUTES XLI. TRAITORS XLII. WHAT THE WAITING MAID SAW XLIII. SATURDAY XLIV. CAN I TRUST THEM? XLV. A SAFE SHELTER XLVI. THE FLIGHT INTO HOLLAND XLVII. FRIENDLY HOLLAND XLVIII. FRENCH COOKING IN WAR TIME XLIX. THE FIGHT IN THE AIR L. THE WAR BRIDE LI. A LUCKY MEETING LII. THE RAVENING WOLF LIII. BACK TO LONDON LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS THE AUTHOR _Frontispiece_ AN ORDER FROM THE BELGIAN WAR OFFICE A FRIENDLY CHAT PASSPORT FROM THE AUSTRALIAN HIGH COMMISSIONER THE AMERICAN SAFEGUARD A SPECIAL PERMIT BELGIAN REFUGEES IN HOLLAND THE DANISH DOCTOR'S NOTE MY HOSTS IN HOLLAND SOUP FOR THE REFUGEES PERMIT TO DUNKIRK SKETCH MAP OF BELGIUM A WOMAN'S EXPERIENCES IN THE GREAT WAR CHAPTER I CROSSING THE CHANNEL "What do you do for mines?" I put the question to the dear old salt at Folkestone quay, as I am waiting to go on board the boat for Belgium, this burning August night. The dear old salt thinks hard for an answer, very hard indeed. Then he scratches his head. "There ain't none!" he makes reply. All the same, in spite of the dear old salt, I feel rather creepy as the boat starts off that hot summer night, and through the pitch-black darkness we begin to plough our way to Ostend.