Our poilus had hurried up, and were forming a hedge. They ventured to question those who seemed the least affected.
"Well, lads? So you've given 'em a knock?"
Most of them did not reply. A few shook their heads.
"Nothing to be done."
"More likely them?"
They made a painful impression. More carts followed, these last drawn at a foot's pace. Orderlies signed to us that they contained the badly wounded.
Their time was up. Why bother to transport them even?
A vehicle passed at a trot going in the opposite direction empty.
"What have you done with your cargo?" shouted another driver.