"No, but they're over here, all right."
"They are said to be," corrected Millon. "But it was also said that we were advancing in the north. A brilliant advance!..."
"And the Russians!" went on Pelletier. "Why the hell aren't they in Berlin by this time? They've nothing to stop them on their side...."
Bréjard shrugged his shoulders:
"Well, but all the same they can't get there by railway, you know!"
"But a month ought to be enough ... with their famous Cossacks," retorted the trumpeter.
And he continued:
"It's all tommy-rot! Shall I tell you what I think of it, sergeant? Well, these Russians and English, who have declared war on Germany ... it's simply sham!... A put-up job! They've engineered the whole thing together in order to do us in ... just like '70!"
"Just like '70!" repeated Blanchet, who, sitting cross-legged like a tailor, was mending a rent in his coat.
This crushing catastrophe, which had descended upon us like the blow of a sledge-hammer, made us begin to doubt everything and everybody.