He went on. His tall silhouette disappeared behind the bushes.
Covered by a new patrol party, we chose a piece of ground of the length indicated. Night had come. The stars shone out one by one. The cannonade was diminishing in intensity. The long beams of the searchlight were probing the dark sky in all directions.
And now to our task. Guillaumin and I wielded spades ourselves, but the work did not get on fast, in spite of our efforts to hasten it. The men were lazy. They had made so many of these trenches in the Meuse and in Argonne which were never used at all.
At the end of an hour we had a ditch only a yard wide at the most, and not deep, allowing just enough room to fire kneeling down. We had to be content with it.
THE FIRST IMPACT
What made me a little anxious was the need for sleep manifest in nearly everyone. Sentries were to relieve each other in definite order—but what guarantee was there? In another hour all these men, who were yawning now, would be snoring!
I myself was dying to go to sleep. In view of the gravity of the situation I encouraged myself in the idea of going the rounds every hour. But the lieutenant came to find us and told us of his intention of mounting guard himself. He asked us, in a friendly way, to do the same on our side. We three between us would ensure the safety of the sector.