The Bosches had not pillaged much, only a few houses. I won't swear to it that certain others did not suffer by our doing. There were complaints by the mayor, and an inquiry; they spoke of a thief caught in the act.
The officers in command, on the contrary, closed their eyes to the orgies and drinking parties. Discipline was relaxed, in fact. I was a little disquieted about it, in spite of the fact that, in our lot at all events, the men kept within certain limits. It is certain that they were feverishly anxious and eager to make the most of all the material benefits, which they might not enjoy for very much longer. And surely the thought that a lot of these fine lads would be under the ground to-morrow was a good enough excuse.
The place stank of spies. During our short stay, several were discovered, and had summary justice dealt out to them, which gave rise to a tendency to see them everywhere. Every civilian fell under suspicion; there were repeated disputes between soldiers and villagers—ill usage and reprisals. We will draw a veil over it! It was sickening!
As to the general situation, the large majority never gave it a thought, and we others still knew nothing.
General Pau was supposed to be striking a knock-down blow in Belgium while Castelnau on the other wing was pushing on the invasion of Alsace. A superb enveloping movement! All that our army group in the centre, which served as a pivot, had to do, was to hold out, to avoid being broken through. This slight retirement, on our part, had been of small importance.
But matters were to be precipitated.
The same evening we leave Béthain to march northwards towards the firing. We do not get very far. The moment our advance companies enter a village, a hail of "Black Marias" begins—there are heavy losses—we retire in disorder—an accomplice in the steeple is signalling to the enemy. We have orders to shoot him; he escapes. A deadly halt in a field.
And suddenly on the road close by a hullabaloo, a rout. That stream of fugitives, runaways, and wounded. We know all about that! Spincourt over again! An infallible sign of defeat! Surprise and bitterness—once more!
Some battalions marched past in comparatively good order, troops from the south, who had fought as well as any of the others, but their accents and black beards tickled our sense of humour, and a stupid tale got about that they gave way without fighting.
Terrible tidings were passed along, spread by the captain, a native of Tarascon, I imagine, who ran up to one of our officers: