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Action Front | Boyd Cable | |
An Open Town |
Page 1 of 7 |
"Yesterday hostile artillery shelled the town of ---- some miles behind our lines, without military result. Several civilians were killed."--EXTRACT FROM DESPATCH. Two officers were cashing checks in the Bank of France and chatting with the cashier, who was telling them about a bombardment of the town the day before. The bank had removed itself and its business to the underground vaults, and the large room on the ground floor, with its polished mahogany counters, brass grills and desks, loomed dim and indistinct in the light which filtered past the sandbags piled outside. The walls bore notices with a black hand pointing downwards to the cellar steps, and the big room echoed eerily to the footsteps of customers, who tramped across the tiled floor and disappeared downstairs to the vaults. "One shell," the cashier was saying, "fell close outside there," waving a hand up the cellar steps. "Bang! crash! we feel the building shake--so." His hands left their task of counting notes, seized an imaginary person by the lapels of an imaginary coat and shook him violently. "The noise, the great c-r-rash, the shoutings, the little squeals, and then the peoples running, the glasses breaking--tinkle--tinkle--you have seen the smoke, thick black smoke, and smelling--pah!" He wrinkled his nose with disgust. "At first--for one second--I think the bank is hit; but no, it is the street outside. Little stones--yes, and splinters, through the windows; they come and hit all round, inside--rap, rap, rap!" His darting hand played the splinters' part, indicating with little pointing stabs the ceiling and the walls. "Mademoiselle there, you see? yes! one little piece of shell," and he held finger and thumb to illustrate an inch-long fragment. |
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