"Who goes there?"
"France!"
Some poilus hastily cross a part of the trench at the border of the Wood. The officer in command of them is one of my old comrades at Eparges——
"Tell me the news. How is it going?"
"I was going to ask the same question?"
"It's the third day. The attack will be held!"
"Yes, it must be held!"
We embraced each other and parted—I have never seen him again!
ON THE ROAD FROM CHAMBRETTES TO LOUVEMONT.
February 23, 1916.