The result of this long walk taught me many things. First in importance was that my confidence in the superiority of German trenches had been sadly misplaced. Since the trench fighting began after the battle of the Marne we have been regaled in Paris with stories of the marvelous German trenches. Humorists went so far as to have them installed with baths and electric lights, but we have all believed them to be dry, cement lined, with weather-proof tops and comfortable sleeping quarters, and as hygienically perfect as the German organization has ever made anything. This belief for me had been borne out in accounts of the German trench life reported for American newspapers and magazines. What I can now say is that the correspondents who permitted this legend to go over the world must have been grandly entertained by the Germans in special sections of their trenches set aside as quarters for the officers. I believe that these trenches, which I saw on this trip, must compare favorably with any they hold, for they form part of what is called "the labyrinth." Some of the most desperate fighting of the war is still going on there, with the French literally blasting the Germans out yard by yard, trench by trench. In fact, this trench line was to have formed part of the new boundary line of Germany--they dug themselves in to stay. I entered these trenches following a long passage leading from the rear of the original French lines. I thought I was still in the French trenches, when suddenly I found myself in a mud ditch, much narrower than any I had ever traversed. The bottom, instead of being corduroy lined, was rough and uneven, making very hard walking. I said to the Major with me, "You must have made these trenches in a hurry; they are not so good as your others." He replied, "We did not make them. The Germans are responsible." Then we came to a wide place where a sign announced the headquarters of the German commandant. The sides of his underground cavern were all solid concrete, with cement inner walls separating four rooms. Paper and artistic burlaping covered the walls and ceilings, and rugs were on the floors. The furniture was all that could be desired. There was a good iron bed, an excellent mattress, a dresser with a pier glass, and solid tables and chairs. The rooms consisted of an office, dining room, bedroom, and a kitchen, with offshoots for wine, and sleeping quarters for the orderlies and cook. Kultur demanded that the Kaiser's office should have the best accommodation transportable to the firing line, but the fare of the common soldier, I should judge, averaged quite a third below that of the French--both privates and officers, all of whom share the common lot, with straw for bedding and either mud or stars for the roof.