In a few minutes all the men and women had started digging as though for buried treasure, and the British sat still for a spell and encouraged them with happy comments.
Very soon down the opposite slope thousands of little grey-blue ants came swiftly, and from the ridge behind them dim flashes shot out.
"Now, then, you'd better 'op it!" said the lance-corporal.
And even then they didn't understand what those ants really were.
"Allmonds!" was the lance-corporal's laconic remark.
The arrival of a shell settled it, and the villagers ran helter-skelter for their houses and little treasures. In a quarter of an hour another pitiable reinforcement had joined the ranks of the refugee army flying southwards, and only the old curé remained, ever true to his charge. They were gallant gentlemen those French curés, and bravely they faced the death which nearly always overtook them at the hands of those murderers.
It was not until the British had turned to advance from the Marne that they began fully to realise the nature of the Germans. As yet they encountered no evidence of the atrocious, bestial work of the enemy. But already rumour was busy, and even on this day I had recorded authentic details that the Germans were placing women and children before their advancing infantry, and that they were stabbing the wounded with the bayonet.
On the Sunday another British Division, the 4th, had arrived at Le Cateau, the little town to which the Force was now moving. This meant a reinforcement of some 14,500 men, together with three field batteries. They were there waiting to come into action on the Wednesday, and in the meantime had begun to entrench.
The general line of retirement on the Tuesday was:
(a) First Corps, Bavai—Maubeuge, to Landrecies—Maroilles.