"Again the king … trump…."
But I fear I am not in a sociable mood. Porchon suddenly throws down his cards and says:
"I play no longer. I have had enough. You worry me…. And, after all, I bore myself. I think we had better go to bed early this evening!"
I am also bored with myself and think only of bed. A night such as last night, after all our trials, is either not enough or too much. Just one more, or more than one, and we shall have regained all our strength and spirits. Let us be thankful for small mercies. Of to-night at least we are certain, and although we do not know it, it may be that others are to follow. We have been informed we may anticipate a few days' rest in billets on the left bank of the Meuse.
Five o'clock in the evening. An order is circulated: "It is probable that the —th Infantry Division will move on to-night. Distribute the rations at once and be ready to leave at any moment."
So much for our night's rest! It appears that a reserve division has been thrown into confusion near the Spada Gap. We must go up in support. Gone is all hope of the night's rest, anticipated and almost promised us!… Still, one more effort to accept events with resignation, to obey implicitly any and all orders given us, no matter what they may be; once more the contortion which hoists the pack on to the back, an ever-present burden.
We leave at eight o'clock, with a long march through the night before us. The villages of Chatillon-sous-les-Côtes, Watronville, Ronvaux are passed. They are all full of soldiers, the murmur of whose voices comes to us through the darkness. Moonlight struggles feebly through the chinks of the old doors of barns; clear fires are burning before the houses and gleaming on ammunition dumps, over which men are squatting and keeping guard.
"Where are we?" ask some of our men.
"At Paname," voices reply.
"In the Meuse!"