As yet, the paralysis was not complete. Some faculties still remained. When the wound was dressed, the poor man remained for a few seconds, holding his head with his hands, leaning on his elbow, as though wrapt in thought. He did not recover consciousness, though, for a single minute, nor did he utter a word.
He had on his waterproof coat, of a greenish colour, and his brown uniform with a leather belt. The refined outline of his sympathetic face could be seen. In the little excavation, with its steep approach, everything was the colour of the ground. The blood stains alone were a cruel contrast to the rest of the colouring.
Presently a head appeared at the edge of our burrow. It was a soldier bringing with him a stretcher. He gave a leap and then came in on all fours. Gently we laid the wounded man on the stretcher. Bullets grazed the top of the earthen parapet, flinging rubbish and dust over us. The Germans were there, quite near, only fifty yards away probably.
The wounded man lay there unconscious, his legs already paralysed, his arm clenched on his breast. We pushed the stretcher a little further forward, where the digging had been deeper. We were in a trench that had belonged to the enemy and had been won by our men. There were niches in the walls, which had served as refuge during bombardments. By crouching down, we could get right into these niches with our knees up to our chins. At the end of the passage were some sacks, used for protecting the sentinel. The sky was blue above us, but we could not look at it, as our attention was given to the man lying there before us.
"He was too daring," said a Corporal. "Yesterday, he came boldly in without stooping in the least. To-day I was here and, as I watched him coming in, I was just beginning to cry out: 'Sergeant, what are you doing?' when I saw him sink down. He fell there, against the side first, and then he rolled down."
The man who spoke had the thin, stern-looking face peculiar to those who have suffered much during the war.
"I have seen plenty wounded," he continued, "but never anyone like that whilst I was speaking to him. You cannot imagine the impression it makes."
A man who was crouching down making the trench deeper, threw some earth over the parapet. Some bullets dashed against it. The face of the wounded man grew gradually more and more lifeless and his breathing became more difficult. In order to take him away, we were obliged to wait until the blue of the sky grew fainter and the darkness came on. To attempt anything else meant certain death. Everyone tried to say something, by way of helping to kill time.
"He was not even on duty. He volunteered to give a hand in taking the post. 'I am better qualified than the others, Commandant,' he said, 'for risking my life. I am not married and I am not an only son. If I happen to disappear, I shall leave no one depending on me.'"
Leaning against the parapet, we waited there. It began to get gradually colder and colder, and our heads and limbs were feeling more and more the fatigue of three days' consecutive bombardment. Our eyes were fixed all the time on the motionless features of the man whom we had known so gay and so full of life.