Item 01: Henry Weston Pryce diary, May 1916-ca. 1918 - Page 130
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Transcription
[Page 130]
2 - The Flanders Nights
The full moon has come again but tonight she turns down befo turns toward the Road and then looking with a wan face, stark with horrors for the road remains awake. The poplars are bending and crashing, swept by the in whirlwinds of hate over the crashing trees, over the fields and in the village street, creeps a grey mist shot with flames that leap and vanish like the swift opening & closing of many furnace doors. Flame bursts out in the air and there is noise, un-nameable, dreadful fear begetting noise. And the road is a stream of faces - the panic stricken crowd - Oh no there passes slightly a man with a bandaged head, trundling a wheelbarrow in which sits an aged woman clasping
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