The Germans had brought chlorine because they had more than they needed to bleach cotton. Not twenty men on earth were thinking seriously about the chlorine atom. Marvin believed it to be a mixture of two masses, and considered the fact important.
Beside the road was a dry ditch that presently revealed a straggler lying asleep. The lad had discarded his hot wool blouse, and the morning was so cool that Marvin thought he would step down and wrap it around the sleeper. But when he descended he saw there was no need. Nothing would ever warm that sweet-faced American boy again. He removed one of the identification tags and lingered a minute. It was piteous that this beautiful thing had to be buried, but he was not sorry that it had been born.
After a while the guide made them stop, while he proceeded up the hill. When he neared the crest he wormed his way on his stomach till his nose was over the top. Presently he beckoned to them, and the officers worked their way up and lay at his right. They perceived that the road to the north was pitted with craters.
“Well, Mr. Gregg, you see what the road looks like. This is about as far as we can get with our transportation tonight. It will save time to carry from here.”
“You will have the train stay here, sir?”
“No, we’ll let it go back to the woods west of Connigis, where it was before the last move. But we’ll unload the ammunition carts and establish a dump. We have plenty of spare guns.”
“Nobody left to man them, sir.”
“No, but we won’t mount them—just keep them here for replacement, and leave a loading detail. Better use that clump of trees down there in the dark. What are they, Fisher?”
“Aja-wee-mig.”
“O. Fisher, when in France better talk American.”