The memory of the afternoon of this day will forever remain sad; I ask myself often how my comrade LeBlond and I had been able to reach Ornes.
We succeeded in reaching Bras toward two o'clock: the village was violently bombarded—human bodies and horses blocked the streets.
I went to pay my respects to General B—— whom I found in his fighting post, surrounded by his officers. He wished us good luck in affectionate terms.
We climbed Côte du Poivre and arrived at Louvemont toward three o'clock in the afternoon. In going through the village, our eyes commenced to be irritated by tear gas: the bombardment was infernal.
It was apparent that the enemy was undertaking a decisive action. The road which we traversed was hammered by numerous projectiles and there was nothing for us to do but forge ahead like automatons——
LeBlond had taken my arm, and, together, it was decided not to stop before any obstacle——
The nearer we approached Chambrettes the more dense became the fire.
At four o'clock the enemy piled up a barrage on the road and concentrated their fire on the farm: it rained projectiles of all calibers—of all big calibers, I know.
In a circle of 325 yards radius, there fell, certainly, four marmites every second, of a caliber equal or superior to 21 centimeters. The ground trembled and a smoke, acrid and suffocating, enveloped us.