THREE:As we left through the Gate-of-Bruges towards242 Thourout we were approached by a small military group, a few German soldiers who escorted about a dozen French and Belgian prisoners of war. Until that moment the street had been relatively quiet, but the inhabitants had scarcely heard that the "boys" came, when each ran into the street, forgetting all fear of the "Duuts," and, breaking through the escort, they gave their "boys" an apple, or a pear, or a packet of cigarettes; so we saw a huge round of white bread fly through the air and land in the hands of one of the "boys." Such a thing touches one always, and even the escorting Germans, who at first were very indignant on account of the sudden and unexpected intrusion, left the citizens alone with a generous gesture, as to say: "Well, have your way."In every quarter I met Belgian refugees from the south, and Netherlanders who wanted to escape to their safe native country. The Lige people themselves were not allowed to leave.
