Suddenly, cries and the rattle of triggers ring out. I turn swiftly to find thirty of our men deploying as skirmishers, facing the crest. Our old captain, red as a beetroot, his small scared eyes darting wildly round, shouts at the top of his voice:
"Look out! Look out! Rapid fire! … upon the enemy approaching … at 800 yards…."
What can all this mean? Have we been taken by surprise? I look about, but can perceive nothing, absolutely nothing to cause an alarm. Then I see J—— hurriedly whispering in the captain's ear. Over the latter's face there instantly spreads an expression of complete astonishment:
"Cease fire! At once! At once, I say!"
J—— turns away convulsed, slyly indicating with his forefinger rows of corn-stacks aligning the crest of the hill!
On the road leading to the village, we pass people in detached groups, each of which becomes a hotbed of gossip. The latest arrivals are questioned avidly and insatiably:
"So there was a machine-gun in the church tower, was there?… How long did they continue firing on you?… Is it true that almost all the wounded were hit in the feet or legs?"
I approach one such gathering. In the centre are two stragglers: one is silent and sad-faced; the other orates with much gesticulation. There is a slight scar on his face, where the blood has dried and coagulated. And he displays a bullet embedded in the padding of his great coat, like a needle in a piece of cloth.
One encounters these stragglers constantly.
(Censored)