Without a pause the major is signing evacuation orders.
"Clear out, fast, those who are able to walk. Bucy may be taken any moment."
The wounded go hobbling away along the grapeshot-riddled road, the balls giving forth their odious buzzing sound all the time. Two carts are harnessed, and in them a score of badly wounded men are heaped together.
As in a dream, I recognize comrades of the 352nd. They tell me that the 21st has been exterminated. Ah! And Belin? No one can give me any information.
"What of the 24th?"
"It was in reserve still a short time ago."
Where are my comrades? Poor fellows. Here comes Lieutenant R——, the lieutenant of my section. He is hopping on one leg, with a bullet in his thigh. No sooner do I see him than I ask—
"Where are my comrades?"
"Ah, yes, I know whom you mean. Well, all five were uninjured an hour ago. That's all I can tell you. Things are pretty hot!"
I help him to get into the cart.