The captain to whom I wire the results is delighted.
"Don't let them go," he answers. "Any movement in the spot marked will be dealt with as the others have been. They have no idea where we are."
I return to my watch. A mere foot-soldier in charge of a battery may well feel proud. How nice to be some one "with his wits about him."
Wednesday, 4th; Thursday, 5th November.
My rôle as observer is rendered ineffectual by a dense mist.
Alpine infantry from the Midi relieve us. The company goes down to quarter at Bucy-le-Long. We have now been in the trenches twelve days. None the less do we receive the order to "be ready for every eventuality."
Friday, 6th November.
After a passable night in the cellar of a house in ruins, we send out Jules, as usual, to find decent lodging for us. He does so and brings us to see it. It is a large bedroom where it is possible for us to remove our boots, change our linen, shave, and generally make ourselves presentable. The luncheon is a substantial one. Seated round the table, we look almost like normal human beings once more. Besides, our hands are actually clean!
This night, our undressed carcasses slip into white bed-clothes. It is two months since we have had such a treat!
Saturday, 7th November.