“Good Lord, Hannay! Where did you spring from? The news, you say?” He sank his voice, and drew me into a quiet corner. “The news is hellish.”
“They told me we were holding,” I observed.
“Holding be damned! The Boche is clean through on a broad front. He broke us today at Maissemy and Essigny. Yes, the battle-zone. He’s flinging in division after division like the blows of a hammer. What else could you expect?” And he clutched my arm fiercely. “How in God’s name could eleven divisions hold a front of forty miles? And against four to one in numbers? It isn’t war, it’s naked lunacy.”
I knew the worst now, and it didn’t shock me, for I had known it was coming. Laidlaw’s nerves were pretty bad, for his face was pale and his eyes bright like a man with a fever.
“Reserves!” and he laughed bitterly. “We have three infantry divisions and two cavalry. They’re into the mill long ago. The French are coming up on our right, but they’ve the devil of a way to go. That’s what I’m down here about. And we’re getting help from Horne and Plumer. But all that takes days, and meantime we’re walking back like we did at Mons. And at this time of day, too.... Oh, yes, the whole line’s retreating. Parts of it were pretty comfortable, but they had to get back or be put in the bag. I wish to Heaven I knew where our right divisions have got to. For all I know they’re at Compiegne by now. The Boche was over the canal this morning, and by this time most likely he’s across the Somme.”
At that I exclaimed. “D’you mean to tell me we’re going to lose Peronne?”
“Peronne!” he cried. “We’ll be lucky not to lose Amiens!... And on the top of it all I’ve got some kind of blasted fever. I’ll be raving in an hour.”
He was rushing off, but I held him.
“What about my old lot?” I asked.
“Oh, damned good, but they’re shot all to bits. Every division did well. It’s a marvel they weren’t all scuppered, and it’ll be a flaming miracle if they find a line they can stand on. Westwater’s got a leg smashed. He was brought down this evening, and you’ll find him in the hospital. Fraser’s killed and Lefroy’s a prisoner—at least, that was my last news. I don’t know who’s got the brigades, but Masterton’s carrying on with the division.... You’d better get up the line as fast as you can and take over from him. See the Army Commander. He’ll be in Amiens tomorrow morning for a pow-wow.”