IN BELGIUM.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVII, Issue 195, 26 January 1915, Page 6

IN BELGIUM.

ii A WOMAN'S EXPERIENCES. ,j i TERRORS OF BOMBARDMENT. A GRAPHIC NARRATIVE. London, November i. Louise Mack (Mrs Creed), the only woman war correspondent in the present war, has just returned from Belgium, where she has been for the past six weeks. You may well expect a woman who has been living in a bombarded town to be suffering from nerves, but not so Mrs. Creed. She is just as calm as if she had been for a holiday trip to the Continent. "I got quite used to the bombs," she said. "In fact, I quite miss them now. At iirst they were terrifying, especially the noise. We all felt we couldn't stand it. Then we didn't seem to mind. The shells make a noise like a big mosquito buzzing through the air. You hear the buzz, arid wonder where it will land. I saw one come down about 20 yards ahead of me. It was tevrible. Tlie earth shook, i felt my legs melt,ing from under me, and I fell straight down on the ground. As f lay there, I saw a big building slowly drift down to the earth in the oddest way. The shell had gone right through the centre, and tlie walls gently collapsed. I lay quite still for a while, for I could not move; then I got up and went back to the hotel. There. 1 met Mr Lueien Jones, the correspondent of the Daily Chronicle. He was quite white, and said to me: 'l've just seen a bomb.' I sajd, 'So have I,' and we both found that we were trembling. But somehow, I wasn't really afraid.

AT BRUSSELS. "When I first went over, I went straight from Ostend to Antwerp. Things were quite calm there, so I went on to Brussels. There I went to an hotel, where I had stayed some years ago. It was closed, but the proprietor remembered me, and took mo in. They all loved the English there, and would do anything to help us. I stayed in Brussels for three days, but nothing very exciting happened; the people went about their work as usual, only everyone looked sad and dull. So I thought I would go back to Antwerp. "I got an American passport and set off in a cart with some Belgian peasants. We ha|d gone as far as Ninone, when we were stopped by some Germans. They questioned us, and examined our passports, and to my horror, they let the peasants go and arrested mc. .They took me into the chateau, where they were stationed, and I was marched upstairs to a bedroom. There a Red Cress nurse undressed me, and took my clothes away, leaving me an old wrapper. She took everything except my hat —and my papers were all in the crown lining of my hat. "There I was left all night with a soldier guarding my door. They sent me some supper, and some breakfast, but I would not touch their food. The:| the nurse brought back my clothes and told me that I could go. I managed to get a lift on a car that was going along the road, and so reached (Antwerp just as the bombardment had commenced. Tiie first thing I saw was the notice that there was no water! That seemed worse than the bombardment.

Two other war correspondents were staying in luy hotel —Mr Prank Fox (Morninig Post) ana Mr Jo»cs (Daily Chronicle), and they were so goojd to me. When there was no longer a question of Antwerp holding out, they begged me to go with them. It would have been suicide for then) to stay, but there was less risk for me, so I made up my mind to wait and see the Germans comein. Mr Fox and Mr Jones waited until Friday morning, and they could wait no longer. One of the. last things they did was to push my big wardrobe in front of my window, : to keep tilings from splashing in.' 1 was glad afterwards that they did, for all the windows, of the hotel were smashed by a bomb bursting nearby. "When they had gone, I felt very lonely, for all I knew, I was the only Englishwoman, probably the only English person in the town. I stood looking down the road watching for the Hermans, and 1 saw a Belgian peasant woman runninig by with a figure in a little cart. I said to her. 'ls that someone who is ill?' and she called out without stopping, 'No, lie is doad. He is my son. I have just got his body from the fortifications, and I want to bury him before the Germans come. Then she went on.

WHEX THE GERMANS CAME. "Then the Germans came. First, two young Germans walked by and saw the sign 'Winter Garden' over the door. I suppose it reminded them of home, for they pointed at it and smiled. It was so pathetic, the Belgians going, and the Germans coming in, that I just stood and cried. Then more soldiers came, and one looked up and jeered at me. And that was the worst thing I saw of them in Antwerp. "I had arranged with the hotel people to stay as their maM, thinking that they would shut their doors, and that I could just go in an(9 out. Imagine my horror when they threw open their doors wide, and welcomed the Germans with open arms. Then I found that the hotel was full of spies. The head waiter there was, and lots of others, waiters and grooms, and men that I had thought good Belgian citizens. I don't think the proprietors were really spies, they were just out to make money, and they didn't care whose money it really was. I saw them all sitting around a table, and the tpies giving the soldiers ; .....rs and receiving money, and they were! all laughing over it. And worst of all, were two men whom we thought were British marines, and who had been mixing among us for a week or more as Englishmen. They spoke perfect English, and they wore the clothes of our marines, and had been out on fortifications, and when the Germans came. they were Germans and spies. It made me furious, and I wanted to tell them to their faces what I thought of them, but instead, I had to keep out of their way for fear they should recognise me. Evidently, the hotel people were afraid ton. for after a. couple of days they loeked me in my room, for safety they said. They kept me there for two days, one of the days was my birthday: and I never felt so wild about anything. I could hear the Germans going up and down tin- stairs, laughing and talk- ' ing, and there was I, shut up in that room, and not knowing when the people would betray me. However, they were not so baid, and after two days they let mo out. T got away from tlie hotel. I vent out as the chaffeur's wife. Two little girls came with us. T took one bv the hand, and Francois (the chaffour) took the other, and wp walked out. Francois called me Louisa, and as we passed the Germans, he said, 'T have just found my wife: she has arrived f! is morning from Brussels.' Thev let us pass, and Francois took me to an inn There the woman, who was a German from Luxembourg, was very kind. She put her arms aronud me when we were

I! in the kitchen and said, 'Poor madame.' ■ I told her not to say.ma-dame, but to' call me Louise. She did, and I stayed, with her as a servant for a couple ofdays. A BORROWED PASSPORT.

''By a bit of good luck, some people I k..ew had given me the key of their houscbefore they left Antwerp. It was locked up, and the Germans did not touch any of the houses that' were! shut up. I met a man and his wife, who were homeless, so I took them to this house, and they, in return—the Belgians are the most grateful of people—undertook to get me out of Belgium. The wife lent me her passport, and the husband borrowed a motor-car an{! took me as his wife. And one of most dreadful moments was in that car. It belonged to a wealthy old man who drove us himself. My 'husband' haft told him that I had a most important mission for the good of the. country, but the old man seemed a bit suspicnus of me. We drove along for a little way, when suddenly, out on the road, with 500 Germans around us, he stopped, aild said he would not take me without a security of 'SOO francs. I really was terrified at that moment, for I was afraid that he would denounce me as a spy, and I knew that, if he did, they would shoot me. I didn't know what to do. I had only 200 francs; so T turned to Francois and asked him for 300. He gave them to me at once, and I handed the 500 francs to the old beast. Then lie went on. When we arrived at the village at the border, 'Albert told him I had. to send a telegram. This was supposed to be my important business. I went into to write it, and he came and looked over my shoulder. For a moiwnt I could not think of anything to say; then, with a sudden flash of inspiration. 1 addressed a telegram to Lord Kitchener, nrjl said 'Guard Ostend,' and signed it. When the old man saw it. he grunted with approval, and then, as we left him, gave me back the 500 francs. "Of course, I've explained to the War Office since my return, but it W'as only one of the manv thousand messages they get every day."