we had hardly taken fifteen steps when the whistle began in our ears again! we threw ourselves down. but not quickly enough! our left hesitated ... and got mixed.
"scatter! can't you? you ..." i shouted.
a man spun round and fell.
henriot bellowed:
"can't you lie down?"
but his voice hardly reached us.
"why doesn't he lie down himself?" said judsi. "wot's the sense in it?"
he added:
"pore siméon. see wot a bloomin' pirouette 'e made. didn't i say 'e was too tall!"
the firing slackened off, but we naturally saw nothing. a new rush—too long that one! pffmm.... crack! we were enveloped in a noise like the snapping of straps. a man fell not far from me, and the fellow next him looked as if he were going to stop.
"no, no! there isn't time," i shouted.
"run! run!" shouted henriot.
it was easily said!
we had just gone into a ploughed field, and the earth stuck to our shoes.
[pg 222]
"will you run?" repeated the subaltern in a feverish tone.
i began to trot ponderously, steadying my water-bottle and my haversack. two or three of the men did the same, but at the end of twenty yards we gave it up, out of breath....
i turned round and saw one of my chaps fall. i ran up.
"well, loriot, what's up now?"
"oh, the blighters!" he groaned. "oh, the bloody bastards!"
"what's the matter?"
his hands were glued to his front. he shrieked.
"ow! my rupture!"
it was put on. i was not going to be caught!
"get up!"
"not much!"
i shook him.
"up you get, loriot!"
while he was going into contortions the others were gaining ground. infuriated i yelled in his ear:
"you could be shot for this!"
but i suddenly felt doubtful. was he really shamming? tears were oozing out of his eyes.
"it's because i ran," he groaned.
the rest was lost.... he abruptly unbuckled his belt, and his braces. i bent down; there was a lump as big as my fist.... he hiccoughed, and vomited.
stupefied and sickened, i stammered:
"yes, yes.... then.... st-tay where you are!"
all i had to do was to catch up with the rest. but now a new storm of bullets began to whizz by—thicker[pg 223] than ever—buzzing like a swarm of bees.... and, pap! pap! parapap! pap!... there surely must have been a mitrailleuse in action.
i was alone. i no longer had the support of friendly presences. i did not take more than thirty yards. good god! i suddenly collapsed. i hurled myself on to the ground.
my temples were throbbing. i could not get my breath. what did my life hang on? a thread! pfffff! pffmm.... if one of these sinister flies touched me ... there would be nothing left. the horror of such near annihilation ... suffocated me. nothing!... the black chasm.... i did not want to....
with my mouth open i convulsively breathed the air. i soaked myself in the supreme sweetness of things ... the dazzling sun, the transparent sky, the green fields spread in my sight, and the blue curtain of the woods, encircling the clear horizon...!
pffmm! less than two yards from my face a little dust arose, a clod had been hit by a bullet. i buried my head in the furrow. i dreamt of digging a hole, and burying myself in it, alive!
my section was almost disappearing yonder, nearly two hundred yards away.... i suddenly regained consciousness. what was i doing? i was a coward then?
a coward? the word hurt me! stay here behind. oh, if only i had a wound! how i longed for one, no matter how bad a one as long as it was not mortal!... or a sprain. i twisted my ankle and—must i confess it—pressed on it with all my strength.
there was nothing to be done! the ligaments[pg 224] held. as a matter of fact i soon gave it up, realising that i must go on. it had got to be done!
i was just about to overtake my section when there was a new unexpected noise ... like a huge piece of calico being torn.... they were opening fire farther down the line. but upon what? nobody knew, but it was the signal for everyone to let fly. instantly there was a crackle from one end of our line to the other.
when i came up some of the men turned round to look at me.
"here's the sergeant!"
"didn't expect to see you again!"
"why not?"
"thought you must be dead!"
"oh, rot!"
did i redden. bouguet whispered to me:
"you must keep your eyes open. some of 'em try to do a bunk on the q.t.!"
i did not feel quite sure that he was not pulling my leg. henriot bellowed:
"yes, yes. keep it up. fire away!"
no detail as to the sight, or target, or the length of range. a man was missing! guillaumin who crawled past, exclaimed:
"you ought to have been there, you see!"
henriot now corrected himself:
"cease firing! advance!"
he got up and repeated the order. nobody stirred. he lay down again and looked at us as if asking for advice. i pretended not to notice it. the men feverishly continued to bring their rifles to the shoulder, fire them, and reload.
i dropped on moulard who was lying just behind[pg 225] trichet and barely escaped hitting him at every shot he fired. trichet drew back looking dazed, without seeming to understand.
the worthy gaudéreaux who was beside him was firing precipitously.
but at what? at what?
in his agitation he got his lock jammed. i took hold of his rifle which burnt my hand. it took me a long while to repair the damage and i repeated:
"why, in thunder, are you so set on playing with your trigger?"
our losses were still slight. only one man hit, in guillaumin's section. but on ahead i caught sight of a barbed-wire entanglement surrounding a field. an unpleasant obstacle! and it was in our sector all right!
there was probably a ditch too. henriot shouted:
"here goes for cover!"
he started off courageously, and this time the men followed him. we covered the intervening space in a single rush, a foolish mistake which cost us two men. judsi delighted his lads by imitating a horse's gallop.
the bullets shrieked over our heads as we crouched in the ditch. we let off a few desultory shots on the chance of hitting something. a minute or two passed. the subaltern was worrying about how to cross this entanglement!...
"it's quite simple," said guillaumin. "who's got the wire-nippers?"
"i have," said corporal bouguet.
henriot hesitated:
"they'd better...."
"what?"
"be made use of...."
[pg 226]
"very good, sir."
bouguet calmly got up, and climbed out of the ditch. he knelt up and set to work.
"good for you, corporal!" shouted bouillon.
it was a thrilling moment. the bullets whizzed and whistled all round him. he was a hero. he took his time about it, and it was a miracle that he was not hit ten times over!
"will that do?" he asked.
"excellently!"
he passed through the gap he had made and went and lay down in the field.
how tempted i was to admire him, but i restrained the impulse. he simply had no nerves, that was all. as for me my temperament forbade such achievements....
"our turn now," said the lieutenant. "follow me."
he made a dash and slipped through. he was not touched either. a great piece of luck. but then suddenly he lost his head and began to run forward all alone through the hail of bullets, without looking round. he went on for about fifty yards, then stopped, and disappeared into the hole made by a shell, in all probability. yes, he had to call to us from there. his arm waved. we realised that he would never dare to come back to fetch us!
"well, now we're in command of the platoon!" guillaumin said to me. "let's each take charge of our men, what?"
he added:
"we must get on!"
"who'll go first?" i asked.
"i will, if you like."
[pg 227]
he raised his voice to give his orders:
"when you get through, advance in skirmishing order by the right."
he sent two men on ahead, and then joined them. the rest crowded through. there were no hitches until it got to the last men, two of whom fell, one killed outright, the other wounded.
"i say, get them to fire a round!" shouted guillaumin.
i gave the order for a volley. it was distinctly thin, and besides that, his men, having cleared the obstacle, stupidly inclined to the left. we were firing straight into their backs. i had some difficulty in getting my men to cease firing.
bouillon said to me:
"the lucky chaps!"
"why?"
"to have gone through first!"
they had left two dead men behind them, whose bodies half filled up the gap.
our turn now.
i felt strangely detached. i watched myself get up and heard myself telling off the three men nearest to me:
"get on, you, and you, and you!"
they went, much against their will.
"get a move on!"
the first man lost his balance just as he got to the entanglement, and fell back into the ditch. the others immediately flung themselves back again.
i turned to the next two:
"you show them the way, trichet and bouillon!"
bouillon looked at me imploringly, and neither of them budged an inch.
[pg 228]
pffmm! pffmm! went the bullets above us!
"aren't you ever coming?" shouted guillaumin.
"no. 2 section is just as good as no. 1 section, surely!" i exclaimed.
somebody muttered:
"after you!"
i implored bouillon to try and get one or two through.
he sighed, and called out:
"villain ... and judsi, old chap, aren't you going to show them how?"
"you don't mean it?" said judsi.
he came rolling along. villain stood up with difficulty.
"aa-h!"
his head burst like a hand-grenade.
judsi ducked, giving vent to cambronne's historical exclamation. shaking like an aspen i wiped my sleeve on the grass.
at that instant a shot rang out among our men. what clumsiness! beside myself, i shouted:
"donnadieu!"
the corporal answered from his half-section. was he there? yes, i caught sight of him and went up to him.
"donnadieu," i said excitedly, "i'm going on with some of the men. you'll shove the others along, see?... kick them if necessary."
he looked down, and muttered something. i caught the word "wounded."
"what wounded? you wounded?"
this expression of misery and terror on his face ... his rifle lying on the ground. with his right hand he[pg 229] took hold of the other fist, and raised it with difficulty to show me....
blood was dripping from his hand. the middle finger was in a horrid mess and hung down limply, by a strand of skin; a fragment of bone was sticking out.
"poor old chap ..." i began.
but i suddenly had an intuition. the man's eyes avoided me.
"it's a put-up job," i shouted down his ear; "you've done it yourself!"
i shook him roughly by the shoulder. the wretched creature tottered, and fell on his side, protecting his mutilated hand.
"you hound!"
i ground my teeth:
"a good job if it kills you!"
i believe that in my rage i went so far as to kick him.... one's own weak moments are so easily forgotten.... i was choking with anger and disgust, and the agony too of being unequal to my task.... i was responsible; and we were hanging back behind all the others, making a gap in the front of attack.
our comrades who had gone on began to abuse us.
"a lot o' bloomin' funks!"
"going to stay behind are you?"
i was forced to act. i felt my mind lashed by the burning blast of decision.
i began by rebuckling my pack behind my shoulders. freedom for one's arms was an obvious necessity.
i stood up and said in a firm tone:
"we've not done yet; we've got to get through!"
[pg 230]
my cheeks were scorching. everyone was looking at me. i think i gave the impression of the most absolute coolness.
"come along! come along! bouillon...!"
i reached the gap without hurrying myself. pffmm! pffmm! that terrible buzzing.... i got through and shouted imperiously:
"hurry up! hurry up there!"
i was standing up. i had set them in motion. bouillon, lamalou, and some others hurried along, bending down.... someone shouted:
"lie down, sergeant, lie down!"
i lost all consciousness of what was passing. i was thinking of a thousand other things—of my brother.... i calmly wondered if he had been killed in this way. however, some instinct urged me to kneel down, and then the realisation of the danger we were in seized me.... if only i could have thrown myself down and lain still! but ten of my men were still on the other side. i felt bound to wait until the last one had come through. and they did not hurry themselves! how bitter i felt. all my senses were waking up again. i was annoyed with myself for exposing myself like this, but i could not prevent myself from doing so.
i had got them all over at last! guillaumin got his poilus together for a new rush.
"advance!"
nobody dropped out; nobody, that is, except two poor lads who were killed on the spot.
"at the gallop!" cried judsi, who was once more pretending to be a horse.
i signed to them to keep extended order. we ran along like that for about one hundred yards, almost[pg 231] without casualties, and then crowded all together behind a narrow tank.
there was heavy firing for a few minutes; a relaxation for the nerves! two hundred and fifty yards! at the edge of the wood! fire! i had given my orders quite at random.
bouillon assured me emphatically that he could make out the peaked helmets. i, too, was firing madly, as an excuse for giving no more directions.
i suddenly saw henriot beside me; he shouted:
"cease firing!"
and leaning towards me, said:
"steady on; you must husband your ammunition! and the show's over for to-day!"
over? it was only then that i noticed that the sun had just disappeared, that the night was falling. the engrossing struggle had robbed us of all idea of time.
