The Germans now saw that their comrades had not been able to follow them and that their only chance of safety was to go back, by the railway bridge, across the Yser, and get to their own lines again. We went over the railway line from Caeskerke to Dixmude and were only twenty yards away from the armoured train which they did not see. We walked along in silence, two by two, with our warders on guard. Presently we came to a group of about fifteen Germans who were behind a mill and we all lay down on the ground. Four shrapnels burst over our heads. A young sailor had his leg shot through. Deliens dressed the wound quickly. A German said in a mocking tone: "Good German shrapnels!" This was true. We set off again and for more than two hours we walked across fields, jumping hedges, ditches, and streams. When we were trying to avoid a stream about three yards wide, a German asked: "Is that the Yser?" We could not help laughing. We were now quite lost and were plodding along in the mud, frozen to the bones. The officers went groping along. With the help of an electric lamp hidden in their long coats, they consulted their maps and the compass. Between the Major and his subordinates there were violent discussions as to the way we should go. I noticed the confidence the Germans have in their chief. Every minute we could hear someone asking: "Where is the Major?" and he, with brief orders, shouted in a hoarse voice, reminding them to pay attention to the prisoners, maintained cohesion among his grey flock. My poor companions in misfortune, some of whom, at my request, were freed, now helped each other, dragging along in groups with great difficulty. The young soldier who had been wounded, leaning on Deliens and de Marteau, trotted along courageously, leaving a track of blood behind him. Several young law and theology students walked with me and we conversed in German. They were Volunteers of the 202nd Regiment, who had just arrived fresh from Berlin and who were under fire for the first time. "How long do you think the war will last?" they asked. "Six months, or perhaps more," I replied. "Oh no," they exclaimed, "that is impossible. Italy has declared war on France and we have just taken 250,000 Russian prisoners." "And do you believe such tales?" I asked. "We must believe what we are told." When I asked them why they had attacked Belgium, I could get no other reply than the one word: "Necessity." They were surprised, in their turn, that so many young men in Belgium were not under arms and they were proud of their own patriotism, which, beside the compulsory service, had given them 2,000,000 Volunteers. "We have 15,000,000 soldiers," they said.