"At 1,000 yards our batteries again stop them. Whole rows are mowed down, vast spaces appearing between the ranks. The companies intermingle, then the regiments themselves seem to amalgamate and melt into one another. Officers are seen galloping along the sides, evidently trying to bring order out of chaos.
"The artillerymen work silently, the perspiration streaming down their cheeks, and continue sending on their messengers of death.
"The Second regiment of the Guard alone, off to the right, seems untouched, and on it comes. Suddenly the sound of a bagpipe is heard. The Scots are awake. From the trenches an avalanche rushes forward toward the disordered Germans.
"At the double-quick Scots and English, a few feet apart, yelling like demons, pounce on the attackers. Rifles are silent. It is cold steel alone. Our battery captains cry 'Stop firing.' There is a risk of shelling our own men now. We become spectators.
"On the right the Guard has suddenly turned toward the hill. A bugle blast and the mass of men half turns and seems to be thrown on the back of the British, outflanked. The situation is desperate. Our artillery is useless.
"Listen! Over the valley, rising louder and still louder, comes a song which the Germans have heard before. A crash of brass, a hoarse roar fills the air, echoing across the valley, drowning the shouts and curses of the human wave fighting below.
"The 'Marseillaise'—the English and Scots have heard it. 'Hold tight, the French are coming,' we scream. They cannot hear us, but we must shout—the strain is too intense.
"Past our batteries a company of Spahis rushes like a cyclone. Two more follow, then the Zouaves. Rifles close to their hips, bayonets low, throwing out over the valley its glorious anthem, the human flood crashes against the Guard.
"The lines waver in an indescribable jumble of gray, yellow, blue, and red uniforms, then seem to bounce back from the very force of the shock. Men appear, raised from their feet, and raised high in the air.
"Caught in a vise between the British and the French, the Guard alone remains. Ten times the shattered remnants of the Kaiser's proud regiment charged, and ten times was thrown back, first against the French, then against the British. Crying, 'Comrades, comrades!' hundreds began throwing their guns aside.