A third witness declared: "On the night of September 6 I was with my two daughters and Mme. Lhomme in hiding under the stairs of the cellar of Mme. Macé, a widow. Groups of German soldiers kept passing round the house, and some had even come into the cellar without discovering us. Between 11 p.m. and midnight, one of these bands having found women's clothes in a cupboard, came towards our hiding-place. As they had seen us, Mme. Macé exclaimed: 'Do you wish to kill old women?' To which they replied: 'No, no harm to grandmother,' and pushed her on one side. They next tried to push me aside, crying 'Fraulein all naked,' but could not move me. One of them then shouldered his rifle. I raised my arm to strike up the muzzle, but he was too quick for me, and, taking advantage of the space thus disclosed between the young girls and myself, lowered his arm and fired. Mme. Lhomme was wounded in the left arm by a ball which then shattered the left arm of my daughter Marcelle, aged 27 years. She died between 4 and 5 o'clock on the afternoon of September 7." _In the Place de l'Église, turn to the right, then immediately afterwards to the left towards Champguyon. The road_ (G.C. 48) _shortly afterwards traverses a level-crossing and passes alongside the cemetery_ which contains the remains of many French soldiers. This road was the one followed by the Germans when they fell back on Montmirail, before the French. _Traverse the long street of =Champguyon= (53 km.)_ which suffered much from the bombardment, but more from the fire started by the enemy. The view above was taken in the courtyard of a farm, which stands on the left of the road, a little this side of the church. The view below shows a ruined house, being one of a group about 1 km. further on. Several of the inhabitants were murdered. The widow of one, Mme. Louvet, thus related the death of her husband: [Illustration: BURNT HOUSES, CHAMPGUYON] "About 5 p.m. on September 6, my husband, whom the Germans were dragging along and striking with sticks, called to me, exclaiming: 'My wife, my poor wife.' I ran and kissed him through our garden gate, but was roughly repulsed by his captors, and fell. My poor husband was in a piteous state, blood streaming from his ears. He begged for mercy and asked: 'What harm have I done you?' He also cried out: 'Colonel, colonel.' I could not help him, for the Germans who were torturing him were from ten to fifteen in number, and kept their rifles pointed at my throat. They bore off their victim to the end of the village, doubtless to put an end to him. The next evening about 5 p.m., I found the unfortunate Louvet. His head was horribly smashed, one eye was out of its socket, and one of his wrists was broken. He was almost unrecognisable."