Toward night the fire in their front died somewhat, and after
sunset it sank lower, but they still heard a prodigious volume of firing
on both flanks. John remembered then that they had eaten nothing since
morning, but when some of the prisoners who spoke German requested food
it was served to them.
Night came over what seemed to be a drawn battle at this point, and
after eating his brief supper John saw the automobiles and stretchers
bringing in the wounded. They passed him in thousands and thousands,
hurt in every conceivable manner. At first he could scarcely bear to
look at them, but it was astonishing how soon one hardened to such
sights.
The wounded were being carried to improvised hospitals in the rear, but
so far as John knew the dead were left on the field. The Germans with
their usual thorough system worked rapidly and smoothly, but he noticed
that the fires were but very few. There was but little light in the wood
of Senouart or the hills beyond, and there was little, too, on the
ridges that marked the French position.
John kept near the edges of the space allotted to the prisoners, hoping
that he might again see von Arnheim. He had discovered early that the
Germans were unusually kind to Americans, and the fact that he had been
taken fighting against them did not prevent them from showing generous
treatment. The officer in charge of the guard even wanted to talk to him
about the war and prove to him how jealousy had caused the other nations
to set upon Germany.
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