'Anyhow, we've given Fritz a twisting up to-day, and we've left the other blokes a soft job,' were the last words I heard as I dragged my weary legs to the place where I promised myself a good long sleep.
How long I slept I don't know, but it did not seem to me two minutes, although it might have been as many hours.
'The Boches have broken through!' Those were the words that came to my stupefied brain.
'What!' I exclaimed, 'it is impossible!'
'Yes, back at once!'
There was no time to ask questions, no time to argue. The poor fellows who had been fighting so long and bravely were with difficulty roused out of their sleep, and all had to retrace their weary steps towards the positions for which we had fought, and which we had won.
'Why is it? why is it?'—'There must be a mistake!'—'Why, we had got 'em on toast.'—'I tell you, we left 'em nothing but a picnic!'
The men were angry, discontented, grumbling, but they went back to their job determined to see it through nevertheless.
After that, I have but a dim recollection of what took place, except that it was grim, hard, stern fighting. The air was sulphurous, the ground hideous with filth, and blood, and dead bodies.
I don't know how it came about, but the Germans were more numerous than we. It was not we who were taking prisoners, but they, and then suddenly I found myself alone, with three Germans before me. One, I remember, had a rag saturated with blood tied round his head. He had a great gash in his cheek, too, and was nearly beaten; but there was the look of a devil in his eye. Had I been a private soldier, I expect I should have been killed without ado, but they called upon me to surrender. I was mad at the idea. What, surrender after we had won the position! Surrender to the men whom we had sworn to conquer! The Army which had set out to make an advance must not surrender!