“It has just occurred to me that my guidebook states that passports are
not required in Belgium!” I explained.
The editor of that guidebook will have a busy time before he issues
the next edition. For example, he will have a lot of new information
about Malines, whose ruins were revealed by the motor lamps in shadowy,
broken walls on either side of the main street. Other places where
less damage had been done were equally silent. In the smaller towns
and villages the population must keep indoors at night; for egress and
ingress are more difficult to control there than in large cities, where
guards at every corner suffice--watching, watching, these disciplined
pawns of remorselessly efficient militarism; watching every human being
in Belgium.
“The last time I saw that statue of Liége,” I remarked, peering into
the darkness as we rode into the city, “the Legion of Honour conferred
by France on Liége for its brave defence was hung on its breast. I
suppose it is gone now.”
“I guess yes,” said Harvard, 1914.
We went to the hotel at Brussels which I had left the day before the
city’s fall. English railway signs on the walls of the corridor had
not been disturbed. More ancient relic still seemed a bulletin board
with its announcement of seven passages a day to England, traversing
the Channel in “fifty-five minutes _via_ Calais” and “three hours
_via_ Ostend,” with the space blank where the state of the weather
for the despair or the delight of intending voyagers had been chalked
up in happier days. The same men were in attendance at the office as
before; but they seemed older and their politeness that of cheerless
automatons. For five months they had been serving German officers as
guests with hate in their hearts and, in turn, trying to protect their
property.
A story is told of how that hotel had filled with officers after the
arrival of the Germanic flood and how one day, when it was learned
that the proprietor was a Frenchman, guards were suddenly placed at
the doors and the hall was filled with baggage as every officer,
acting with characteristic official solidarity, vacated his room and
bestowed his presence elsewhere. Then the proprietor was informed that
his guests would return if he would agree to employ German help and
buy his supplies from Germany. He refused, for practical as well as
for sentimental reasons. If he had consented, think what the Belgians
would have done to him after the Germans were gone! However, officers
were gradually returning, for this was the best hotel in town, and even
conquerors are human and German conquerors have particularly human
stomachs.
X
CHRISTMAS IN BELGIUM
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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