We go ahead without hesitation, but without speaking—one never speaks during these moments!
The field inclines and it is necessary to stop and pant a few instants—a circular view—prisoners hastily descend the hill, their arms raised, staggering like drunken men——
It is a nasty place to tarry any length of time—two boche machine-guns sixty yards to our right spit at us. Our advance can be effected, luckily, thanks to the deep craters our guns have made the preceding days. Day has fully broken—a fine rain is falling——
The position is as unmanageable as a runaway horse. We gain the second objective. The trench is wider than the former one and I cannot jump over it——
It is necessary to descend into the trench. I am followed by a few companions—A young German blessé is stretched out in the bottom. He is extremely young. He has curly hair and so blond that he looks like a little child——
He has been thrown in a jumble and the partially demolished trench on top—his head is twisted and his body and legs are sticking up in the air——
He makes an effort to rise. Striding over him, I see bloody froth on his lips—I heard him murmur:
"Wasser, wasser——"
With his arms and shoulders he makes another effort to get up——