i pass over the arrangements of our pickets. each one of us knew his duties, and acquitted himself conscientiously in his part. henriot made a thorough reconnaissance. when he came back he showed me a plan which he had picked up.
"by way of practice, do you see? our maps only go as far as the rhine!"
at dusk, a lukewarm meal was brought to us from the supports.
the gloom grew more intense. our vigil was beginning.
we established ourselves in a clearing about twenty yards from the road. the stumps of some trees which had been cut down were utilised as seats, a lot of us sat cross-legged, either on the ground, or on little tufts of brushwood, which were a poor protection against the damp. no fire, of course. by the flickering light of two dim section-lanterns placed on the ground we could make out the carpet of trampled grasses, and a big black circle, the remains of a log fire.
what a night that was. during the first few hours guillaumin and henriot never ceased chattering below their breath. i wondered that their fatigue[pg 256] had not more hold over them. i only half listened to their conversation which still concerned our victorious march, and the demoralised enemy flying before the sword. speed, they declared, speed must come before everything else. we must fall upon the bosches in the rear before they had time to recover themselves.
the first excitement occurred towards ten o'clock, a shot in the distance, on our left. everyone leapt to his feet. another, and still another.... there was no doubt about it; the sentries' orders had been so explicit; there was to be no firing except in case of danger or surprise. no. 3 picket, next to us, had surely been attacked. henriot, much agitated, repeated the instructions: at a given signal, we were to extend and fall back on the support....
"it was not our business to put up a fight...."
the surprising thing was that the firing was dying down. we remained on the alert, and it was not ten minutes before new shots rang out, on our right this time, at no. 1 picket.
"they're crazy!"
henriot fumed.
"the lunatics! now our whole line of outposts will be marked!"
he was proud that our lot had kept their heads. but it was somewhat previous. a shot burst out in the wood, a hundred yards away, then a second: three, four, six. we saw a man rush up stammering distractedly: "someone had come up, he had challenged them, they had not stopped, his comrades had been carried off...."
not very encouraging! however, eight or ten volunteers offered to go and see what the matter was. on the way whom should we meet but the com[pg 257]rade in question, who was on the lookout and slightly uneasy, but made great fun of his companion, who had apparently fired at some shadows. henriot was annoyed and inclined to be hard on him. lamalou went to him.
"blackguard 'im if yer like, sir, but don't 'ave 'im punished. it's always the same story o' nights just at fust, you sees and 'ears things!"
he spoke from his experience in the african bush. henriot calmed down, and agreed that the sentinels were too far from the reserve picket; the arrangement of them was altered.
this continued all night ... shots, quite near at hand or some far away, marking out the zone which was being patrolled. we soon got accustomed to it. at the end of two hours no one worried about it any longer, indeed not enough.
an overpowering desire to sleep began to take possession of us. over and over again i almost gave way. my head nodded, my eyelids closed. then guillaumin gave me a shake.
"halloa, there, don't leave us in the lurch!"
henriot rubbed it in!
"remember we are responsible for the security of the whole army."
there was no gainsaying the fact that he behaved in the most praiseworthy fashion, sparing himself no pains. he was always to be seen on his feet, going to shake up the men who were reeling with weariness. towards midnight, the critical time, he suddenly proposed that we should play games. i thought at first that he was joking. but no, he had undertaken to keep us awake at all costs. he must treat the children in his school in the same way.[pg 258] childish occupation kept us amused for a long while. the greatest success was the game of old mother perlimpin pin which soon had to be stopped as the laughter was becoming so uproarious.
towards two o'clock in the morning a thunder shower came on. we were soon soaked to the skin.
"in ordinary life," joked guillaumin, "we should have kicked the bucket after a night like this."
i offered to go the rounds with the object of keeping myself awake.
the first sentry challenged me at a good distance. it was judsi. he was calmly smoking a cigarette.
"smoking's not allowed, judsi."
"pooh. it's a bit o' coompany. that won't stop a chap keepin' 'is eyes skinned."
but directly i had pointed out that the point of light might betray his presence at a distance, he gave way:
"that's true enough, that is."
he instantly threw his cigarette away in the damp grass.
i wanted to try an experiment on the next sentry-group and continued to advance after the order to "halt!" very well! i saw my two fine fellows both order arms again.
"well, what are you up to? this is a nice state of affairs." i reproached them.
"we recognised you, sergeant!"
"that doesn't matter, you ought to have made me halt."
"but as we recognised you!"
it was impossible to get them to alter their opinion. as for the last two sentries, they simply "about-turned" on the spot; that is to say, that at the first suspicious sound they fired on the picket.
[pg 259]
i saw how unhinged and overwrought they were, and had pity on them. i ended by promising to say nothing about it to the subaltern.
i found the latter on his knees. he had spread out his map, which was beginning to get torn, and was saying to guillaumin that we should do no more than screen metz; the chief thing was to push straight on to mayence, the key to the whole of the rhine district.
the rain stopped, and some time passed. towards four o'clock henriot shyly suggested:
"would it bore you frightfully to go out with a patrol party?"
"on the contrary!"
the idea appealed to me. by gad, i was not sorry to be able to stretch my legs. i chose four men. bouillon who had just been on outpost duty absolutely insisted on being one of them. he was not going to let me go alone. he was certainly a good chap!
we plunged into the darkness. hardly had we gone a hundred yards before it seemed as if we were a hundred miles away from the picket and its protection. we were in the middle of the forest, the gloom was intense. silent raindrops dripped on to our shoulders and caps from the foliage above our heads. my companions followed in my footsteps. i was not only ahead of this patrol, but ahead of the whole army, a daring explorer sent out towards the enemy, who was perhaps lying in ambush. i often stood still and silently gazed into the darkness. i had told my men to regulate their movements by mine, but we were almost invisible to each other. sometimes i distinguished ... that noise of muffled marching ... didn't it come from in front? or again when i heard some branch crack in the under-[pg 260]wood, my heart thumped unevenly; i caught my breath; i thought i made out forms, phantoms crouching, yonder ... ready to hurl themselves.... how agonising it was!
how much more courage i had need of than when under fire. i regretted yesterday's danger in comparison. i opened my mouth to shout, "everyone for himself!" my trembling knees wanted to fly. but here, as on the day before, what urged me on against my will was the presence of the men who saw in me their leader. the consciousness of my r?le, of my authority which must be kept up, seized me by the collar. i had to go on, and i went on. i got safely past the place where i had feared the ambush. for a moment i was delighted to have surmounted this terror, delighted even to have experienced it. what a chapter it added to my campaign impressions! what a joy it would be one day to recall these deadly terrors, if only i escaped them.
it was an interminable journey. the subaltern had told me to follow the road up to the edge of the wood. having arrived there i was to take a certain road whence i should get excellent views over a large stretch of country.
we continued to advance. our shoes squelched in the soft loam, and got covered with lumps of mud. we were splashed at each puddle. our feet were soaked, our hands, pinched with cold, clutched convulsively at our rifles.
it was nearly forty minutes since we had left the clearing. from time to time a shot on our left reassured us; a sentry group was on the lookout there. i was still watching for the road which ought to turn off on our right. the forest just lately had given place[pg 261] to a bushy thicket. the sky was already paling, and in the clear transparency i saw the beginning of a bridle-path. what a relief! all we had to do now was to skirt the hostile zone, instead of continuing to penetrate into it, more terrified at each step.
the path climbed the side of the hill. we occasionally caught a glimpse of a misty expanse. farther on, the view opened out, and we lay down flat on our faces, our elbows resting on the dewy grass of a hillock.
the sky tone was neutral. the chief features in the landscape were lent precision by the coming dawn. at our feet pearl-grey meadows sloped gently down to a highway bordered with trees, which might be followed northwards for miles, running in a straight line between two rounded hills. on the left there was a bizarre eminence, abrupt and bald; on the right two steeples, one of which rose at a short distance away behind a stretch of colourless heath. a mist hung about, dimming the surfaces and blurring the outlines. another gloomy day in the making.
"see anything, bouillon?"
"never a bosche!" he declared.
our glance probed each particle of ground. there was nothing suspicious, in the plain, or on the roads, which looked like huge ribbons. the enemy appeared to have melted away. our field of view increased, the shadows were dispersing, and the horizon seemed to recoil. still nothing to be seen.
"they must 'ave 'ad a scare."
our mission was apparently at an end. it was up to the aeroplanes to take observations of the enemy's new positions. one of the war-birds happened to be flying over yonder at that moment, but we were un[pg 262]deceived when it approached, and we recognised a taube.
"let's be getting back!"
"say, sergeant, the country's not so dusty!"
touched and curious, did we foresee the miracle with which daybreak was to endow us?
here was the luminous veil of the a?rial vault above us being rent and scattered. shreds of the more transparent vapours still floated in the air, but the depths had ceased to look so uniformly dust-coloured. it was not long before cracks and then fissures and then chasms were hollowed in the clouds, and the liquid blue shone out between them bathed in a diaphanous radiance. the true sky smiled at last. the fleecy clouds dispersed and vanished, a few of them lingered in the form of scarfs, so attenuated that they looked like modest nebulas. the scintillation of the stars pierced through them. they would only shine for a moment and then pale in the growing daylight, but it was enough that they had reminded the mortals, saddened by the opaque and misty night, of their existence.
the whole of spring glowed resplendent in this summer dawn. newly awakened chaffinches chirruped and chased each other at the edge of the wood. the luscious green countryside, a sight to gladden the eyes, exhaled the fragrance of recent harvest mingled with the resinous perfume of the firs and larches sown among the beeches round about us. now the entire firmament was clear and serene, suggested in fluctuating colouring which changed by harmonious gradations from a mauve verging on violet, in which the western sky was bathed, to the pale phosphorescence, which, on the opposite horizon heralded[pg 263] the approach of apollo. on that side the mists accumulated in the recesses of the valleys, evaporated more quickly, and rose up impalpable, the incense of the earth. unsuspected ridges appeared. through an opening between the two crests my wandering gaze could glide towards a blue distance, infinite as the ocean.
a plain, a different region, seemed to open out down there. it occurred to me that the woevre might lie in that direction. yes, we must have reached the confines of the valley of the meuse. yonder my brother had fallen. i made a vague attempt to recall my sorrow and rancour, to connect my present mission with that of the army and my nation. my consciousness repelled these fierce imaginings. taking a deep breath i inhaled the woodland scents. i chewed a stalk of grass, and dangled a corn-flower picked on the other side of the slope. i na?vely congratulated myself on being present, in the womb of nature, at the birth of each dawn, with which i, as a civilised being, had rejoiced my eyes too seldom.
the sun rose. a ray of gold touched us, appearing from the bottom of the disk. the outline of the orb was barely discernible, hidden by the triangular shadow of some peak or other, reared at an immense distance, which stood out in relief against the luminous segment. the planet as it rose hesitated for some time before adopting a shape. it stretched itself out, and capriciously widened then lengthened itself, a dark red mass upon which it was still possible for the naked eye to gaze.
i wondered vaguely where i had lately delighted in a similar vision?
the ball grew more condensed and, ceasing its[pg 264] frolics on the orange line of the horizon, rose rapidly, armed with a blinding brilliance. then—sparkling reminder—a sickle-shaped streak began to glitter on the ground below: some pond.... a flight of memories was instantly loosed, and soared in me, and then subsided, eddying. my heart leapt at the vivid recollection. it was the suchet morning; we had seen the sun rise from the snowy alps, equally distended and tortuous, until the instant, when full blown, it had reflected its disk in the waters of neufchatel....
good god! how short a time ago it was. it was only three weeks since we had dallied happy in our youth. my memory caressed each detail of that excursion, the first glimpse we had had of the abyss in whose depths there had shone, like ships' lights, the lights of the canton-de-vaud—and our wait for the miracle's accomplishment in the icy atmosphere of the mountain top. in order to warm ourselves we had laughingly thrown pebbles down the slope in an endless avalanche....
as i lingered dreamily over this resurrection the pictures faded away of themselves. one alone persisted, infinitely sweet. i mentally breathed the name. seated on a rock which jutted out on a level with the ground, breathing in deep breaths of the scented air of the hilltops, turned towards the rising sun, it was yours, jeannine, my friend....
