From Brittany a telegram reaches me dated 31st August. It has been only five days on the road!
Just now there returned to the depot with a bullet in his arm a man who left on the 23rd August, like myself. He has been a sergeant-major, belonging to Class 1886, who gave up his stripes and joined again. As I had seen him fall, I imagined he was dead. Like a couple of old soldiers, we recall the plain strewn with projectiles and all the incidents of that day on the battlefield. On the evening of the 25th he counted seventeen villages in flames.
Whilst boasting of our campaigns, Reymond, who is just behind us, recites—
Dost remember, Viscount, that half-lune we captured from the enemy at the siege of Arras?
What's that thou say'st? A half-lune indeed! It was a full lune, I tell thee....
Sunday, 6th September.
At the seven o'clock muster the quartermaster reads out the orders for the day—
"Sunday, rest and labour [travaux] incidental to the cleanliness of the body."
The word travaux will give some faint indication of the trouble needed to get the dirt out of one's skin.
Washing of clothes and a bathe in the Mouche. Eager perusal, beneath the apple-tree, of letters and journals three days old.