CHAPTER VIII
AN ATTEMPT TO REVISIT YPRES
When we arrived at the convent, we found that a soldier had called to say that a motor-car would be starting for Ypres at 4.30, but which would not return until the next day. We felt hardly inclined to accept the invitation, but dared not miss the opportunity which would perhaps not present itself a second time. Mother Prioress and Dame Placid decided to go, and to pass the night in the abbey and come back the following day in the motor. We were all so anxious at the idea that two of us, viz. Dame Columban and Dame Patrick, offered to go on foot to be able to help in case of danger. The narrative will be continued from the notes of Dame Columban and Dame Patrick:—
‘We set off at 2.30 as we should, of course, take longer than the motor. Two of the servants of Madame Boone, who were also in the convent, accompanied us, to be able to see in what state her house was. At their suggestion we decided to follow the railway line, instead of going by the high road; and thus we were spared the dreadful mud and constant traffic we should otherwise have had. On our way we met many poor people who were flying from Ypres; for the Germans were still shelling it. They tried their best to dissuade us from our purpose, depicting in vivid colours the great danger we were incurring—we, however, continued on our way. Several aeroplanes passed overhead, one of which received a volley of shots, so we knew it must have been an enemy. Sad to say, it escaped untouched. As we advanced we heard the sound of the guns louder and louder, till at last we found ourselves once again in the noise and confusion we had left a week and a half ago. Our hearts beat faster as we began to distinguish in the distance the tower of St. Martin’s and of the Hall; and we hastened our steps, wondering if the motor-car, which was to bring Mother Prioress and Dame Placid, were already there, and making plans as to what we should do for the night. The fugitives had told us that the Germans were principally shelling the station, so we determined to go round the town, and come in by the Porte de Menin which would bring us immediately to the Abbey. As we were thus settling everything in advance, we came to where the railway lines pass over the high road, and were about to continue by the latter, when a French policeman suddenly stopped us, asking where we were going. We bravely replied, “To Ypres!” What was our dismay when he politely informed us he was forbidden to allow anyone to enter the town. In vain we expostulated, saying how far we had come, that we only desired to see our Monastery once again, that it was quite impossible to walk back to Poperinghe that night. It was all useless. As we spoke, some poor persons endeavoured also to pass, but were sent back. We then asked the officer if he had seen a motor-car with two nuns in it. He replied in the negative, but promised to stop them should they pass. He tried to mend matters by explaining that he was obliged to obey orders, and that it was to prevent deserted houses being broken into and robbed that persons were not allowed to enter the town. “For,” he said, “people pass by empty-handed in the morning, saying they want to see if their houses are still standing; they come back in the evening loaded with things; is it their own belongings they have, or some one else’s?” This, however, did not console us, and we turned our steps disconsolately towards Poperinghe.
‘It was nearly six o’clock. The cold wind beat pitilessly in our faces, for it was freezing hard. The stars were shining, but there was no moon, so the road was dark. Should we ever reach Poperinghe again? What if Mother Prioress and Dame Placid were waiting for us at the Abbey? They would assuredly think we were killed!... We walked slowly on, debating what was to be done. At last we decided to try to find a lodging for the night, and get into Ypres the first thing in the morning. We stopped at the first group of houses which came in sight. What was our joy to see a motor outside. Perhaps we could get a ride home. We addressed ourselves to the French soldier who was standing by, and asked if by chance he was going to Poperinghe that night. “Yes!” was the rather laconic reply. “And would it be possible to take us also?” That was another thing. We must wait for the officer, who would be back, perhaps, in half an hour, perhaps later. Then, as if to excuse his apparent unwillingness, the soldier told us they were strictly forbidden, under pain of thirty days’ imprisonment, to take anyone in the motors, as it had been discovered that German spies had been acting as chauffeurs to several French officers. Did we look like German spies? Be that as it may, it was not inviting to think of waiting in the cold for half an hour or more, and then meeting with a probable refusal. We consequently returned to our first idea of getting a night’s lodging. We knocked at the first door, but found the house full of French soldiers. We went farther on, and, through a window, saw some English “Tommies” seated round the fire with the members of the family. This looked more inviting. We pushed the door open (there being no sign of a bell or knocker), and at our enquiry, were told that the house was full, there being four officers lodging there, as well as the private soldiers. We asked if it would be possible to speak to an officer, and were requested to step inside. Our visit being announced, a cheery voice called out, “Entrez, mes Sœurs, entrez!” We entered the little room, and found ourselves in presence of four officers, who were actually engaged in making their tea, and who were more than delighted on learning our nationality. They were very interested in our story, and pressed us to take tea with them. We thanked them for their kindness, but refused, not wishing to deprive them of what they so well deserved. Two of them next offered to go in search of some means of conveying us back to Poperinghe, as we were not likely to find a lodging anywhere. They were also sure that the officer had never left with Mother Prioress, for—as one of them remarked—“Ypres is a very unhealthy place for the moment.” After some time, the two returned, saying they had found a French vehicle, which would conduct us to within a mile of Poperinghe. So, thanking our kind hosts, we followed our two guides to the place where the carriage (if so we may call it, it being rather a closed cart, drawn by mules) was standing. The soldiers were busy unloading it. As we were talking, two lights appeared in the distance, which rapidly grew bigger and brighter, as a motor-car dashed past us. The two officers soon chased it, calling on the driver to stop. He accordingly slowed down, and we learned, to our great delight, that the officer (an English one this time) would take us straight to Poperinghe. We were soon spinning along the road, leaving Vlamertinghe, houses, carts, horses, soldiers, far behind us; and in a good quarter of an hour, we stopped at the door of La Sainte Union. We begged our kind benefactor to accept something for our drive; but he refused, saying he was only too pleased to have been able to render us this little service. As soon as we were safe inside, we were surrounded, all asking what had happened to us, for everyone had been more than anxious on our account, owing to the alarming news which was brought from Ypres. We related our adventures in a few words, and then had to go quickly upstairs to show ourselves to dear Lady Abbess, who was greatly troubled over our absence, and enquired constantly if we had yet arrived.
‘In our turn we now desired to know what had happened to Mother Prioress and Dame Placid, so, during recreation, which we shared with the other nuns, refugees like ourselves, we heard of their doings. After going out in search of the officer who was to take them to Ypres, and waiting in the rain and cold, the soldier who had called in the morning found them and said the captain had been delayed, and would not leave before 4 or 4.30. They had then returned to the convent and set out once again, this time taking the key of the Abbey, which they had previously forgotten. Arrived in the market square, they saw a long row of motors drawn up, with soldiers busy taking off the cakes of mud and mire which literally covered them. In vain they looked for their driver. At this moment a regiment of Chasseurs Français rode up four abreast. They had hardly gone when the Dragoons, with their uniform of pale blue and silver, galloped past also. This state of things lasted almost an hour. The captain not yet making any appearance, they had gone in quest of something to take with them to eat, in case no food should be found in Ypres. By a strange coincidence, on entering the shop, they were accosted by the manageress of one of the hotels of Ypres, who immediately recognised them. At last, on coming once more out into the square, the soldier met them again, saying that the bombardment was raging so fiercely that there was no question of leaving Poperinghe that afternoon. It was useless to think of sending after us, so every one had remained in the greatest anxiety until our return.’