"up you get, sir!"

"what, what!"

guillaumin was in front of me, smiling and swinging a lantern. half-joking, he repeated: "i think we're in for it, sir!"

i got up. shadows were moving round us. the sharp air stung. the night was clear but moonless. i asked what time it was. three o'clock.

i immediately had a pleasant surprise. that form on the road—"humel!" i dashed at him. "hulloa, my boy! so you got through!"

"by jove! it was a bit of luck," he acknowledged.

i hungrily clamoured for details.

he explained: "you see, as long as we stayed in the trench, things went all right. we managed to hold the bosches. they weren't particularly keen to face the bayonet. but at night we had no more ammunition. the men got unstrung and wanted to do a bunk. delafosse opposed it—as you may imagine. some of them began to slope off. the lieutenant made up his mind to it, and we followed them. but the bosches got wind of it and opened fire at us. that's when we got cut up—not one out of four got away."

"the lieutenant?"

"knocked out, disappeared."

[pg 471]

another name was on the tip of my tongue.

humel understood, and lowered his voice! "descroix? he stayed behind, too."

i, in my turn, told him of henriot's death, and about playoust. i saw his forehead wrinkle. he said nothing. i took his arm.

"well, we're here!"

"not for long," he murmured, downheartedly.

"yes! yes! i swear that you, you, you understand, will get through!"

what did i know of it? but i had said it with such assurance that i felt it had given him new heart.

there was a short whistle—the captain calling up the n.c. o's.

"well, my friends," he said, "we have been complimented on our resistance the other night, and up till four o'clock yesterday in front of the montrolle woods. apparently we did not do badly!" he waited for a minute. "that is not all. we are asked, or i should say commanded, to intervene again. a great honour for the regiment!"

we were all hanging on his lips.

"mind you remember this date," he said, "in case we come back. this is the night, the 9th to the 10th, that the battle is to be won. we are attacking all along the line, and i think i may be allowed to tell you, in confidence, that some of our comrades alongside have just entered silly-le-long. at the other extremity the zouaves have taken lizy-sur-ourcq. the enemy is apparently still in possession of a little hill near here. what we've got to do is to oust them from it." his voice trembled. he must have been trying to find a last word of encouragement. not succeeding, he added: "we start in five minutes!"

[pg 472]

a remark not lacking in eloquence.

i joined de valpic in the darkness. his cough had made me aware of his presence.

guillaumin, who ran against us, said, in a joking tone: "well, if we aren't polished off this time!" and then, a little more gravely: "if only it's of some use."

"do you doubt it?"

"i? what do you think? i wouldn't change places. those who have missed this——"

he rummaged in his pocket, pulled out a sou, and threw it into the air! "heads we win!"

"and if it's the reverse?"

"a reverse for the bosches!"

he hunted about in the dark.

"can't you find it?"

"it never fell. it went straight up into the sky! the best sign of all."

we did not touch upon any more serious topics. we assembled, and started off. de valpic left us to join his platoon.

"good-bye."

we shook hands. we were never to see him again.

the most complete human friendship had drawn us together during the last fortnight.

we marched along a road in silence for half an hour. then we extended into the fields, like mute armed phantoms, the noise of our footsteps absorbed by the ground.

for the first time i had taken my place at the head of my platoon. my eyes searched the darkness. i regulated our pace by the captain's, whose tall silhouette stood out against the blackness. i formed only one wish which was this: that our intervention[pg 473] might have a decisive quality. a wish which resembled a prayer. i implored, i don't know what god, to grant me the good fortune to be a hero.

the ground was rising in a gentle slope. we were guided towards the east by a pale transparency, herald of the day. in that direction lay the enemy; the enemy whose sentries no doubt had orders to fire upon all suspicious objects. the first bullets would be for me. i did not think of them or fear them. the fifty men behind me, who would act as i acted, were a miraculous incentive.

there was a hollow exclamation close by on our left. a sentry! a shot rang out, followed by a second. i quickened the pace, my men remaining close at my heels.

in front of us, at a distance which was difficult to estimate, we could make out a noise and what seemed like confusion. on the left an already heavy fusillade was crackling. the absurd idea crossed my mind of giving orders for a volley. but the captain contented himself with raising his sword. advance!

our speed increased. charging pace, fix bayonets! some of the men were inclined to pass me. i restrained them below my breath.

there was a sudden volley of bullets, meant for us, but distinctly too high. we advanced bent double. there was a new rafale. this i felt was bearing to the right, where de valpic's platoon was. a mysterious shock warned me that at that second my friend—my friend had succumbed.... mown down, this fine life. but this destiny held no terror for him. and what other awaited us!

the balls continued to mew fiercely in our ears like terrible cats. it felt like the blows of wooden ham[pg 474]mers which would pound and crush everything to dust—("would bash our heads in"; the popular expression just fitted it).

i was thinking of that when i became aware of a sort of fluctuation behind me. somebody shouted: "kneel!"

it was amazing. my line had instantly given way, and thrown themselves down. there was an immediate clash of steel, followed by feverish firing. a bullet whistled past my nose. i threw myself on to the ground and turned round and cursed henry, the clumsy lout, who was firing and firing.

what was to be done. the captain yonder was bellowing in an infuriated voice: "advance! advance!"

i got up, waving my rifle, and shouted: "come along, no. 3 platoon. show them what you're made of!"

a few of them got up and followed me. the majority hesitated. there was no time to wait. we took about twenty steps at the double. i had to stop. there were only six poilus with me!

i shouted again. i yelled. the bullets were still cracking. they passed us coming from both sides. i recoiled. the confusion was terrible. i bumped into humel. guillaumin turned up bringing us a handful of men. i remember that i asked him coldly: "how far off are they?"

"a hundred yards."

"good. we've got 'em!"

then i don't quite know what happened after that. it hardly lasted a minute. it seemed like a hundred years! i believe i rushed back in search of my men, shouting:

[pg 475]

"this way! come along! follow me!"

i flew. i furrowed the ground, sowing the sacred fire in my tracks.

"look, they can't touch us!"

they were no longer firing on our left. hand-to-hand fighting must be going on—a cacophony. noises which had nothing human left about them. no doubt the enemy was giving ground. i stumbled near a long ditch, a first-line trench, which they had already abandoned.

i felt sure that i was going to be killed, but oddly enough i cared very little. to-day or to-morrow, what did it matter! a thousand thoughts thronged each other in my mind. the dominant one, simple and sublime, was that victory was leaning towards us. we should carry this hill, for i could see our men wriggling along the ground to rejoin us, and grouping themselves again.

the light and serenity, the frenzy of it! i swear that at that instant france was really something other than an abstract entity for me: the whole in which i participated, which was me and more than me. of my own free will i was sacrificing my paltry individuality. i was melting a wan unit into the collective consciousness of the beings of my country.

surprise may be caused by the fact that i found time to revolve all these thoughts in my mind during these brief moments, among this chaos, where i might be seen dashing about madly, expending myself in exhortations and reproaches.

well, i did find time for them, and for a thousand others! i myself, lucid and multiplied, marvelled at it.

my resources were increased tenfold. i burst into[pg 476] blossom. i attained the apogee of my power. the instant in which i raised myself to the conception of the immense national soul was also that in which my own spirit was expanded most largely. nothing escaped me. i was twenty beings. i had a tender thought for the memory of my mother; one for my brother who had fallen; for those of my people who remained. and you, jeannine, my betrothed, i evoked your face and let my lips caress it lightly. i descried all that life we should have lived together, and tasted all its happiness to the full. i adored you, oh my well beloved! i was certain, that at that instant you knew that i was being killed for your sake, that you were proud of it, and sobbed for it.

my men were collected there, lying with their eyes fixed on me, already half raised, ready to dart forward.

as i looked at them and counted them over, a fantastic idea struck me. fifty living men. in a minute, half of them would be dead, at a sign from me.

gloomily determined, i enjoyed my fatal power. did i spare myself? no. i remained on my feet, and the bullets made a nimbus round me. preserved by a constant miracle, i moved among these fiery trajectories like a salamander.

and then, ruminating on a vague hope of living, i dreamt that a fate protected me; that death was overawed by my temerity.

the hour struck in the depths of my consciousness.

i included all my men, body and soul, in a comprehensive gesture to advance.

their undulating line moved as one man. bouillon was just behind me. in getting up he seemed to[pg 477] stumble, and fell like a stone, with a bullet in his forehead.

then i began to run quickly, straight ahead. there was no longer any need to turn round. behind me i could hear that breathing, and the heavy trot regulated by mine. we formed an inseparable block, they and i. if any fell, their places were filled up. twenty yards away i saw phantoms scattering.

"they're bolting!"

my own voice seemed to swell in the deep-throated roars which it tore from my companions. living, rolling thunder! the enemy overcome and swept away! full of a prodigious reserve of breath, life, and pride i was going to—

a-a-h!