During the long halt in a field by the roadside, some troops came into sight. We went to have a look, because it was a regiment of regulars, which had been heavily engaged, we knew, during the last few days.
We were at once struck by the gait of these men. They were advancing very slowly and seemed to have to make an effort to raise their legs at each step they took. They halted. When arms had been piled many of them did not even take the time to undo their packs, but let themselves fall where they stood. Several of them went to sleep instantly.
They were worn out. Three days' fighting without a pause and three nights.... The terrible nervous armed multitude, not a gesture, not a cry of joy in honour of this victory which they had won. Not to speak of the uniforms stained with mud and dust, and some in rags. The terrible part was these dull, ravaged faces, with their scared and dazed expressions.
I went down their line in silence. What gaps there were in these ranks! In one platoon there were only fifteen men left. A fair-haired corporal on the ground was trying to get to sleep, but the flies persecuted him. I chased them away.
"Thanks," he said.
I knelt down and asked him:
"How have you got on?"
He turned a dull eye on me, and answered in a broken voice, interrupted by dismaying silences:
"We're done.... Ever since the other morning—what day is it?... we have done nothing but fire ... and be fired at. At night too.... They kept us on the hop ... with their whizz-bangs and bombs.... Without rot, there were times ... when we envied those who fell, because they could at least pause for a while.... Look here, yesterday evening when the rations arrived ... well ... no one had the strength ... to put the stuff into their mouths. They had to send some dragoons ... up ... from the rear ... to feed us ... we would rather have gone under."
I left him. I understood now why the conquerors do not usually take full advantage of their victory. And I thought that to-morrow it would perhaps be our turn to go through it all.