Proper credentials to accompany the army in the field had been formerly refused me by the war officers of England, France, and Belgium.

So in Brussels each morning I chartered an automobile and without credentials joined the first army that happened to be passing.
Sometimes you stumbled upon an escarmouche, sometimes you fled from one, sometimes you drew blank.

Over our early coffee we would study the morning papers and, as in the glad days of racing at home, from them try to dope out the winners.

If we followed La Derniere Heure we would go to Namur; L'Etoile was strong for Tirlemont.
Would we lose if we plunged on Wavre?
Again, the favorite seemed to be Louvain.

On a straight tip from the legation the English correspondents were going to motor to Diest.