"Our turn now," said the lieutenant. "Follow me."
He made a dash and slipped through. He was not touched either. A great piece of luck. But then suddenly he lost his head and began to run forward all alone through the hail of bullets, without looking round. He went on for about fifty yards, then stopped, and disappeared into the hole made by a shell, in all probability. Yes, he had to call to us from there. His arm waved. We realised that he would never dare to come back to fetch us!
"Well, now we're in command of the platoon!" Guillaumin said to me. "Let's each take charge of our men, what?"
He added:
"We must get on!"
"Who'll go first?" I asked.
"I will, if you like."
He raised his voice to give his orders:
"When you get through, advance in skirmishing order by the right."