"Boom!" It exploded five yards away from me, covering me with mud. It was the moment when every man crouches down in his shelter, but, for the observer, it was the moment to see something and to get up higher, if possible, in order to gaze out at the land around. A second shot was to be heard and, so far, I had seen nothing. An infernal noise shook the building under me. That was charming. I sent my two aids to get under cover and I fixed a certain spot in the darkness. Ah, there was a gleam of light. Quick, I had to place it, whilst the projectile was on its way. This was aimed too far. It passed like a whirlwind over my head. Quick with the telephone! Good, we are going to reply. Thirty seconds later, a volley started from us, and now the concert began in earnest. An enemy battery answered our firing. On our side, a second one was brought into action, and this bombarded the German post in front of me. Presently, there was a deafening noise on all sides. I could no longer hear the German projectiles, but red flashes and formidable shocks warned me that we were coming in for it.
I shouted my observations to the telephonist, who could scarcely hear me a storey lower. Finally the battery which was firing on us was reduced to silence. Others went on firing, but slackened down and, at the end of an hour, there was dead silence again, broken only by bullets which, from one trench to the other, were fired in search of victims.
When my time had expired, I went down below and was surprised to see my brave Liénart at the side of the ladder. He had been observing too. Instead of getting under cover, during the storm, he had come up to help in case of need. As to the telephonist, Cornez, I found him crouching down near his apparatus. "No chance of going to sleep here!" he said, on seeing me. And as it was his turn, he went up to take my place.
I threw myself down on my "flea sack" (the name answered to the reality in this case) and I slept the sleep of the observer, which had now become a habit with me. That is, I had one ear closed and the other listening to every sound. I kept my boots on, my pistol and cartridge case at my side, and my carbine within reach.
Suddenly, a bullet passed quite near, with that special click peculiar to shots fired at a short distance. A volley of shots then came, flattening themselves against the walls. We were all quickly on the alert. I went to look out at the observation post. It was probably an enemy patrol wandering about. Three men offered to go out in search of this and quickly started off, crawling along in the darkness. A few shots were exchanged and then all was quiet. The German patrol had withdrawn.
When I returned to my post, I felt suddenly chilly. I lighted a few pieces of wood in my brick oven and cooked three sweet potatoes over the cinders. This had been our usual meal since we had been at this observation post.
Gradually, whilst the wood was crackling and Cornez, who had been relieved, was snoring near me, I began to think of my home and of my old parents, who were watching and waiting so far away. I thought, too, of the beloved convent which I had left for this war, and of the strange contrast between this adventurous life and the serene life of the cloister.
For five months, we had been going from ruin to ruin in the midst of the inundation, trying to find a fresh post among the putrid waters, as soon as the shells had reduced the preceding one to a heap of ruins. A hundred times death had hovered over us, and a hundred times shells had paid us their gracious visits, in the very rooms in which we were living. It was all in vain, though, for we were "vaccinated."