Energy books

I went through Ypres so many times in early days and late days of the
war that I think I could find my way about it blindfold, even now. I
saw it first in March of 1915, before the battle when the Germans
first used poison-gas and bombarded its choking people, and French and
British soldiers, until the city fell into a chaos of masonry. On that
first visit I found it scarred by shell--fire, and its great Cloth
Hall was roofless and licked out by the flame of burning timbers, but
most of the buildings were still standing and the shops were busy with
customers in khaki, and in the Grande Place were many small booths
served by the women and girls who sold picture post-cards and Flemish
lace and fancy cakes and soap to British soldiers sauntering about
without a thought of what might happen here in this city, so close to
the enemy's lines, so close to his guns. I had tea in a bun-shop,
crowded with young officers, who were served by two Flemish girls,
buxom, smiling, glad of all the English money they were making.


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