I succeed in persuading him not to remove his boots. Well wrapped in our coverings, we talk before going to sleep.
I am interrupted by an exclamation in the trench—
"The Germans are in the branch trench! Look out!"
We spring to our accoutrements and arms. A hundred yards to the right a brisk fusillade is going on.
"Who was it shouted, 'Look out!'?"
"A man of the fourth section, the one on guard at the listening post," placidly answers Verrier, who has already fixed his bayonet to his rifle, though retaining his cigarette between his lips.
"Well! Where are the Germans? There is nothing to be heard!"
We begin to scent one of those tragi-comic incidents frequent in warfare. The lieutenant passes, an electric lamp in hand. As he strides away towards the right, he gives the order—
"Everybody at the loop-holes!"
The command is obeyed.