Out of the blackness at my feet a man rises and the words on his lips are French.
"Is it you, Letty?"
"Yes, Lieutenant; I've got one in the thigh."
"That's all right, old man; we'll get there yet!"
Already there are no more harsh voiced brawlers around us. Manifestly they must reform before continuing the assault. So I throw away the helmet and replace my cap of which I have taken good care.
Before reaching the chasseurs I overtake four Boches, in each of whom, either in the back or in the head, I put a revolver bullet. Each one drops in his tracks with a long, strangled cry.
(Censored)
In the chasseurs' trenches I discover twenty or so of my men. They are kneeling in the mud at the bottom, unable to find a place in the firing line.
"Follow me, my boys," I cried.
The Vauxmarie Road is only a few steps away and I place my twenty poilus along the sloping side of a ditch. One and all we feel that all we want to do is to remain there until we die.