And forward and backward and criss-cross through the gray Ardennes, the Chief Lieutenant and I, racing day after day. Laughter, when we tried it, died sickly on our lips. The bridges! the bridges! and nothing but the bridges! Empty belly, and limbs like lead. Once more, now; all together for a last great heave!
There lies Fumay on the smooth-flowing river; and next to the old bridge, a newly built one stretches from shore to shore—a German roadway, a roadway to good fortune!
Captain of the Guard! You? From the Staff Headquarters?
He shouts my name as he approaches.
"Congratulations! Congratulations!"
And he waves a paper above a hundred heads.
"Telegram from home! Make way there, you rascal! At the home of our poet—I've just learned it—a little war girl has arrived!"
I hold the paper in my outstretched hand. Has the sun broken suddenly into the enemy's land? Light and life on all the ruins?...
I see a new bridge reaching on—
Springtime scatters the shuddering Autumn dreariness.