The commander took his rifle from his hands and said:
“I’m not sleepy, and, besides, I shall sleep very well to-morrow. I’ll mount guard to-morrow. Sleep, little one, sleep. We, the old, have lost our habit of sleep.”
The sentry did not even acquiesce in this invitation. He had accepted it in advance, for he was asleep already.
At daybreak when the relief came, the sergeant who accompanied the new sentry was thunderstruck when he recognized the commander mounting guard at the loophole.
“Here’s his rifle. Wake him up when I have gone. Say nothing about it, for he was very sleepy.”
When the signal for the assault was given the next day, after our first two waves had gained the enemy trenches without firing a shot, the commander, who was to go with the third, had scarcely advanced on the field when the whistle of a single shell shattered the air.
A “77” burst and a cloud of smoke went up. His thigh was torn off and we saw him fall in a pool of blood.
Lieutenant Delpos was getting ready to dash across with the second section of the company and he jumped towards him.
“Go on, my friend, the end has come. I am waiting for it. Tell Captain C ... to take command of the battalion.”