Part 16 (1/2)

I recommend that a sharper control be exercised on the station platform at Luxemburg, as it is a simple matter to avoid the only control which is at the ticket gate, by simply not going out and therefore not having to come in.

The lot of the professional spy will be harder in the future. Meanwhile, I expect to shake the dust of the German Great Headquarters from my reportorial feet early tomorrow morning, for pedestrianism is not a safe pastime in the war zone.

Story of the Man Who Fired on the Rheims Cathedral

II.

WITH THE GERMAN ARMY BEFORE RHEIMS, Dec. 5.--Eating a ham sandwich while squinting through an artillery telescope at the cathedral and hearing the man who fired the famous shots tell all about it was the unique combination I experienced today, and in retrospect the ham sandwich stands out as the most important feature, for it symbolizes the morale of the men before Rheims.

The post of observation was in a sometime French fort, now riddled by French sh.e.l.ls, on the crest of a hill affording a fine panoramic view of the city, and my sightseeing predecessors here had included the Imperial Chancellor, von Bethmann-Hollweg; Muktar Pasha, the Turkish Amba.s.sador to Berlin; Major Langhorne, the American Military Attache, and other celebrities.

Rheims Cathedral was said to be about four miles away, but through the powerful magnifying telescope (of the scissors type and so contrived that only its two eyes peered over the breastworks while the observer was completely hidden from view) it showed up as clearly as Caruso through an opera gla.s.s. The top of one of the two towers had a decidedly moth-eaten appearance--it looked as if one of the corners had been shot away, and the roof was evidently gone, but otherwise the exterior of the cathedral looked--through the telescope--to be in a good state of preservation and likely to enjoy a ripe old age. No French observer was seen on the cathedral towers, and I was informed by First Lieut. Wengler of the Heavy Artillery that none had been since his admonitory sh.e.l.ls had carried their iron warning to climb down. A staff officer of the ---- Division had introduced him to me as ”the friend of the Rheims Cathedral,” explaining that it probably wouldn't be standing today but for him.

[Ill.u.s.tration: VICE ADMIRAL FREDERICK St.u.r.dEE,

Commander of the British Squadron Which Destroyed the German Fleet Off the Falkland Islands.

(_Photo_ _American Press a.s.sn._)]

[Ill.u.s.tration: ADMIRAL SIR JOHN FISHER,

First Sea Lord of the Admiralty, Who Holds the Guardians.h.i.+p of the English Coast.

(_Photo from Underwood & Underwood._)]

”So you are the vandal?” ”the friend of the Rheims Cathedral” was asked.

”Yes, I am the 'barbarian,'” he laughed modestly. He wears the Iron Cross of the first and second cla.s.s, and, although still only a Lieutenant, commands two batteries. A most picturesque but paradoxical ”barbarian,” with a soft-spoken lisp, mild blue eyes, boyish face in spite of a tawny-reddish full beard of long standing, and slightly bowed legs, it required a most rigorous reportorial inquisition as practiced on millionaires and politicians at home to extract these details from the modest ”friend of the Rheims Cathedral”:

”The French observer on the cathedral was first noticed on Sept. 13.

After that the French artillery fire became uncomfortably accurate.

Eighty sh.e.l.ls fell here in one day alone--killing only one cow,” he added, with a plaintive note of reminiscence. He pointed to three big holes in the ground close by and all within a circle of ten yards'

radius, where three French sh.e.l.ls had dropped in quick succession, as further evidence of how well they had got the range.

”The fellow continued 'on the job' quite shamelessly until the 18th,” he went on, ”when I aimed two shots at the cathedral, and only two. No more were needed to dislodge him. One from a 15-centimeter howitzer struck the top of the 'observation tower,' the other, from a 21-centimeter mortar, hit the roof and set it on fire. I used both howitzers and mortars so as to let the French know that we could shoot well with both kinds. I wanted to dislodge the observer with the least possible damage to the fine old cathedral, and the result shows that it is possible to shoot just as accurately with heavy artillery as with field artillery.

The French also had a battery planted about 100 yards from the cathedral. It isn't there any more,” he added laconically.

A few turns of the screw brought a row of trees marking a boulevard into the field of vision. ”There is a French battery there at the present time,” he said.

”How do you know?” For I saw trees but no guns.

”Aeroplanes,” ”the friend of the Cathedral” explained. Another turn of the screw brought a church steeple into view.

”The French are now using this church steeple for observation purposes,”

the battery commander said. ”The observer is reported to me every morning. He is getting to be too shameless. I shall take a shot at that steeple this afternoon in all probability. And then I suppose they will again call us barbarians. I saw the fellow myself this morning. He sits in that little arched window there.” I saw the window quite distinctly, and only regret that the culprit had climbed down for the luncheon intermission, which is religiously kept by both the French and German artillery.