Downstairs the infantry were grumbling:
"Can't you keep quiet, up there, eh? We want to sleep! And the straw's all falling in our mouths!"
"If only it would stop yours!"
"Look out, you're on my stomach!"
"Sorry. Can't see an inch in here.... Can't you raise the lantern over there?"
Again came the sound of a shell bursting in the distance. I hesitated whether to take off my spurs and leggings, although I knew quite well that I should sleep better without them. But, if there was an alarm, should I be able to find them in the straw? Finally, I decided to keep them on, nor did I unstrap my revolver holster, which was chafing my side. I tightened my chin-strap so as not to lose my képi.
Saturday, August 29
Réveillé came at two o'clock, together with orders to start at once. The Germans, we heard, had crossed the Meuse. But our artillery had no doubt registered the course of the river. I could not understand why we had not heard the guns.
In the darkness of the early dawn the road showed up yellow between the blue-grey fields. On the way I recognized the yew-trees of a cemetery in which some dead were being buried the day before.