The Paris journals have altogether stopped.
Sunday, 16th August.
The company musters at seven in the morning; the four sections, each in two rows, forming a square around the lieutenants and sub-officers.
The lieutenant in command is a kind-hearted man, on whom the gravity of the situation weighs heavily. This morning he declares curtly—
"The musters take far too long!"
Profound silence.
"Far too long. And I don't wish to speak of the matter again...."
Gabriel reads the daily orders: "Every morning, drill and marching. Tuesdays and Thursdays, rifle practice. Afternoons, lectures in quarters from one to three; afterwards, Swedish gymnastics."
This existence in the depot, a blend between barrack-life and drill, will not be so very pleasant every day. May the powers that be send us speedily to battle!
This morning, at nine o'clock, military mass.