How quiet,
how peaceful was the morning! No thundering cannons or whistling
shells, no sputtering of machine guns or hum of hostile planes
was heard. Peace had again come to the valley. The poor peasants
were returning to their ruined homes, some carrying all their
earthly possessions in bundles. Yet as we looked at that vast
field of crosses and thought how the best blood of both France
and the United States had been spilled to bring about peace, we
shuddered at the awful price paid for it.
We passed a number of ruined villages on our way to Toul. From
there we had a most delightful trip, motoring through Metz and
Luxemburg and arriving at Coblentz late in the evening.
The scenery along the Moselle is in many places just as
beautiful as that along the Rhine. The steep hills that ran down
to the river were cultivated in many places to near their tops.
All along the railroad track lay plats of vegetables, and the
neat homes that nestled at the foot of the hills among
blossoming pear trees looked as if "neither care nor want had
ever crossed their threshold." The foliage had not yet clothed
the vines that rose in terraces far above the houses. At Kochem
we beheld the ruins of a splendid castle and monastery. The old
cities of Kardon and Treves were seen through a sunlit rain, and
the level rays of the descending sun produced an effect of the
most singular beauty.
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