We were waiting for the Major to arrive. He had gone to Brigade Headquarters with the other battery-commanders to receive final instructions from the Colonel. As we waited the pool of darkness, which had at first washed shallowly about the gun-wheels and feet of horses, began to creep higher, till only the heads of the men and horses remained distinct against the frieze of the vanishing sunset—all else was vague and lost. A nightingale in a neighboring thicket began to pour out its solitary song; far away in the intervals of silence a second bird answered. There was a heavy and yearning melancholy in what they said which played havoc with the accustomed stoicism of our hearts.
Suddenly along the road came the sound of a rider approaching at a rapid trot. The sharp tapping of the horse’s hoofs changed to a dull thudding as he turned into the field. Then the thudding stepped. The Major’s voice rang out in an abrupt word of command, “Fall out the officers.” From the various sections the officers galloped out and formed up before him in a half-circle.
“Take out your note-books and write down these names,” he said; “they’re the villages through which we shall pass on to-night’s march. You will not tell any of the men the names of the villages and you’ll burn your list in the morning. This information is only given to you in case some of the vehicles should break down, so that you may be able to bring them on to rejoin the main party. And remember, absolute secrecy is necessary. Here are the names.... Be careful with your flashlights as you write them down: keep them shaded. We don’t want any Hun planes to get wind of us.” When we had replaced our notebooks he nodded shortly, “That’s all. In about five minutes we move off.”
As I rejoined my section the Number One of A. Sub rode up and saluted. “One of my men’s missing, sir. He’s Gunner Standish—a steady, quiet sort of lad: the chap as kept the gun in action single-handed, when all the rest of the crew was knocked out in the Willerval racket.”
I remembered Standish well; I had had him in mind for the next promotion. He had won the Military Medal for his gallantry at Willerval, for fighting his gun alone, when the pit had become a shamble? and all his comrades were lying about him, either wounded or dead. A fine piece of work, and especially fine for a chap of his nature, for he was nervous and high-strung, and only seventeen, though in his keenness to enlist he had stated his military age as twenty.
I turned to the Number One brusquely. “But you reported your subsection as complete a good half hour ago?”
“And it was complete then, sir. I spoke with the man myself. He slipped off while we was waiting for the Major; he didn’t ask no permission and didn’t say a word to any one.”
“Perhaps he’d remembered that he’d left behind some of his kit. You’d better send someone after him at the double. Probably you’ll find him in his billets.”
“I’ve done that, sir, and he wasn’t there.”
“Had he been drinking?”