"The cold became intense … those wounded who had not yet been recovered moan and cry aloud in their sufferings and distress…. 'Are you going to let me die here?… Drink!… Ah!… Stretcher-bearers!…'
"And the soldiers, hearing those agonized cries, but chained to their posts by the word of duty, groan in anguish: 'What are they fooling about, those stretcher-bearers?…
(Censored)
"'They are like fleas—never to be found when one most wants them!' And the cries continue—voices soft and strained and weary from having called so often and long:
(Censored)
"'…?' 'Mother! Oh! Mother!—Jeanne!… P'tite 'Jeanne!… Oh! say that you can hear me, 'Jeanne!… I am thirsty … so thirsty!…' The cries of others make one shudder. 'Still, 'I say I won't … I won't die here, my God!… 'Stretcher-bearers!… Stretcher-bearers!… 'You joint-shearers, carve me up!… 'Ah!…'"
The advance of the regiment is checked. The enemy, following his early retreat, which at times assumed the appearance of a veritable rout, turned at bay. The section in command of our lieutenant dig a trench and pass forty hours in it. It has rained and it is still raining. A furious downpour is succeeded by a trickling stream which drips ceaselessly above their heads:
"Motionless, and packed tight together in cramped and painful attitudes, we shiver in silence. Our sodden clothes freeze our skin; our saturated caps bear down on our temples with slow and painful pressure. We raise our feet as high as we can before us, but often it occurs that our frozen fingers give way, letting our feet slip down into the muddy torrent rushing along the bottom of the trench. Already our knapsacks have slipped into the water, while the tails of our greatcoats trail in it."
So one night was passed—and then a second. The relief was due to arrive at any moment; but would it ever appear, that relief?
"As for myself, I no longer hoped for it. I had gone past caring. We had been there a long time…. No one will come. No one could possibly relieve us placed as we were, at the edge of this forest, in this trench, beneath this rain! Never again would we see houses with the lights glowing in the windows, never again see barns in which the well-packed hay never got wet. Nor ever again would we undress ourselves to rest our bodies and free them of this terrible iciness…."