"Halloa, Sergeant! You following poor Loriot's example?"
"No. I've got a sore foot," I said; "but I am going to stick to it all right."
On my refusal Guillaumin took on another lame dog's pack. Lamalou soon followed his example.
I only kept on automatically. My heel must be quite raw. Perhaps I was risking the fate of my whole campaign. It couldn't be helped. In my heart of hearts I almost congratulated myself on this opportunity of escape.
We ended by breaking all ranks. Sections, platoons, and companies were all mixed up. We were just a herd, and at the entrance to a little hamlet when the order was passed down to shoulder arms no one budged. Not much! We're not so green as all that! Give us a bite o' some'at first!
But it was not to be so lightly disregarded! The captain rode down what remained of our column, and repeated the order, brandishing his whip furiously. The men made up their minds to obey it. We found out the reason for it afterwards.... A general surrounded by his staff, was watching us march past ... someone whispered that it was the general in command of the division.
It was unfortunate that this should be his first experience of us. He took stock of us superciliously; his forehead puckered in a frown of disillusionment. The men growled.
"Like to see you in our place, old chap, with an empty stomach, and a pack on your back!"
Oh, that arrival at our billets in Orne, a village of five hundred inhabitants, already overflowing with troops of all kinds. Oh, how depressed we were, both physically and morally. I was especially exhausted. There was a complete lack of any spirit of organisation among the authorities, and the troops were totally out of hand. We were obviously worth nothing at all!