Only a few of the towns in Central Tunisia were really wrecked by shellfire, but in Northern Tunisia all the towns along the line of battle had been truly destroyed.  Bizerte was the most completely wrecked place I had ever seen.  It was a large city, and a beautiful one.  It is impossible to picture in words what it looked like after its destruction.  If you remember World War I pictures of such places as Verdun, that was the way it was.  Nothing could possibly have lived through the months-long bombing that Bizerte took.  Those who say a city can’t be destroyed by bombing should go and see Bizerte.

As soon as the Tunisian war was over the Arabs began flocking back to their homes.  They had been cleaned out of the battle area by both sides, for two reasons—to keep them from getting hurt and because neither side trusted them.  Most of them were simply evacuated to safe hills in the rear, but those under suspicion were arrested and put in outdoor prison camps while the fighting was going on.

They came back across country in long caravans.  Scores of Arabs were in each group, with their sheep and their cattle, their burros and their kids.  They were a dirty and disheartening lot.  Their junklike belongings were piled high on two-wheeled carts.  I saw one cart with fourteen oxen hitched to it.  The women usually had large bundles on their backs.  Now and then one Arab gave the Victory sign and said, “Bonjour,” but most of them passed in silence.  For the Tunisian Arab had been well sold by German propaganda.

Ferryville and Tunis were the two places where fantastic demonstrations were put on as the Americans and British entered and released the cities from their captivity.