Covered with mud and glory

by Georges Lafond

I reach a sort of crater made up of stones and trunks of trees blown apart and broken, in one complete tangle.

It would hardly be wise to stay here, for the crater is hammered full of shell holes.

A voice comes out of the ground between the stones, at my feet.

“Oh, good morning, Margis. Keep to the right; the first street to the left is Peronne.”

I recognize the joking voice and constant laugh of Sub-Lieutenant Delpos.

I have arrived; the company is here!

This hole is Maisonnette!

All right!...

And I jump into the protection of the bottom of the sap.