CHAPTER XVIII

THE FIRST IMPACT

What made me a little anxious was the need for sleep manifest in nearly everyone. Sentries were to relieve each other in definite order--but what guarantee was there? In another hour all these men, who were yawning now, would be snoring!

I myself was dying to go to sleep. In view of the gravity of the situation I encouraged myself in the idea of going the rounds every hour. But the lieutenant came to find us and told us of his intention of mounting guard himself. He asked us, in a friendly way, to do the same on our side. We three between us would ensure the safety of the sector.

We must needs bow to necessity. I was tempted to admire Henriot; he showed the vigilance of a real leader. Then I smiled. It was no doubt the effect of the minute received that morning concerning responsibilities.

What an interminable vigil that was. The men slept like logs, including, to begin with at all events, several of the sentries. I can answer for it that I shook them in a way that made them sit up.

When I got back to the picket I had chosen, I had all I could do to keep awake myself. A helmet of lead seemed to encircle my temples. I had a headache and felt overpoweringly drowsy. I dozed off about midnight, but not for long, luckily! The respite did me good.

Hour after hour passed by. It was a clear night, though the moon made only a late appearance. The landscape was lacking in any conspicuous features. There was nothing that caught one's eye right away to the horizon, which might be near or far.

It would not be long before daybreak. We were freezing where we stood. B-r-r! B-r-r-r! I shook myself and rubbed my shirt against my skin to warm myself. My attention had wandered.

Guillaumin suddenly appeared. I had not seen him coming.

He said to me:

"Not noticed anything?"

"No. Have you?"

"Yes, for the last few minutes.... I think there's something doing."

We strained our ears for a few thrilling seconds. Dead silence. Guillaumin admitted that he must have been mistaken, and apologised. But at this point Bouillon came crawling along in a hurry.

"Here come the Bosches. Look! Look!"

Yes. There was a moving line yonder, cutting across the pale grey of the stubble.

What orders would the lieutenant give? We went to look for him, quickly rousing the _poilus_ on our way. They got up, rubbing their eyes, and noiselessly seized their rifles at the order to stand to arms.

We met Bouguet on the way, equally on the alert. The whole platoon was breathless with excitement. We passed word along the line to our neighbours.

And what of Henriot? We ended by discovering the poor wretch, who had probably held out all night against his weariness, overcome by it at last, and snoring away with his head on his arm.

Guillaumin shook with laughter.

"A lot of good all his trouble had been!"

He wanted to startle him by clapping him on the back. I objected. What was the good of humiliating him? I arranged to catch him with my elbow as I brushed past, and deferentially inquired as he moved:

"Is that what you would advise, sir?"

"What! What!" he said, opening his eyes.

"To send word to the captain."

He raised himself up to listen to us, and approved our suggestions.

It was like a moving film!... That dark silent line, that line of assailants at which we turned to look continually, which we imagined was still a long way off. The speed was suddenly quickened. There was a sound of galloping--which seemed quite near. I strained my eyes, my lips opened with a jerk. I took a step forward....

Henriot blew his whistle.

I can still hear the rip of that imperious salvo. A volley of shrieks answered it from the plain, and dispelled my shudders.

And the salvo grew more violent and rolled along the whole line of trenches. We saw nothing further: simply went on firing, sweeping the ground in front of us. I shouldered my rifle and discharged it distractedly, just as mad as the others. The crash and uproar rose and swelled and threatened.

It did not last more than a minute. The attack was badly carried out, or, at all events, sustained. It was an entire failure. Our firing persisted. Cries could still be heard, but of pain now, and also the interjections of officers rallying their men. There were smothered moans and death-rattles. Our firing still continued. When it ceased nothing was moving on the plain and only an occasional guttural groan could be heard. When the dawn came we saw the stubble-fields strewn with bodies, some of them less than thirty yards away. They had fallen face foremost. The rest had been hit in flight. It was impossible to go and pick up even the dying. They must stay there all day, ghastly witnesses of the encounter.

* * * * *

It was broad daylight now.

Where had the enemy taken refuge? Probably behind one of those distant copses, unless they occupied trenches somewhere in this undulating plain which sloped gently away.

The German artillery was obviously anxious that we should not forget its presence. The avalanche of shells started again with terrific fury. Nothing but big "coal-boxes." Luckily all or nearly all of them roared over our heads to explode in the woods. Suppose we had stayed there!

The captain appeared towards seven o'clock and told us that we should be there for some time.

One pleasant surprise was the coffee, which was brought up from the rear by Fachard and Pomot, two cheery fellows who were seen coming along in the distance, smiling and fearless, gaily swinging their dixey. They had had to cross the zone of fire to get to us. When questioned, they admitted that they had had no orders. It was simply an idea of theirs to warm the lads up a bit. And they meant to go back. Fachard was no less a personage than the colonel's cook. His duty called him. Oh no, that couldn't be allowed. Lamalou forbade them to move. The colonel and his stew would have to look after themselves. They weren't going to let lads like that get themselves pinked, not much.

The captain, who turned up again, began by giving the two cronies a good slanging. A piece of nonsense that might have drawn the fire on to us. Then he calmed down and asked if he might taste their famous coffee, and congratulated them on it.

Pomot took a fancy to our platoon and stayed with us. I talked to him, but did not get much out of him at first. The thing that had struck him most was a shell which had just killed two staff-officers. Oh, yes, and then he had heard that reinforcements had arrived. An important piece of news that. I pressed him--then he told me a fantastic tale which had got about of taxis having brought up Zouaves and Turcos and Foreign Legion men, all night, nothing but those frightful creatures from Africa! It seemed to me an unlikely tale, but I thought it worth spreading all the same. It gave the men a tremendous fillip.

"Them chaps knows the business end of a bayonet all right w'en they sees it!"

Some time passed. I was occupied in getting our trench made deeper. The men put their backs into it better than they had the day before. But the captain immediately gave orders to stop the work, not to attract the attention of the enemy's lookout men. Everyone appeared delighted. They only bemoaned the fact that they were forbidden to smoke.

The German shells fell unceasingly, with clumsy, obstinate precision, a few hundred yards behind us. Part of the wood was on fire and black smoke hung above it. Sometimes when a shell fell near the edge of the wood leaves and branches could be seen spurting up, as at the kick of some huge monster.

It certainly was a rest for us. The crash of bursting shells no longer startled us. We had even given up ducking when the projectiles swished over our heads. The men were sitting or lying about in drowsy attitudes. Many of them were taking another nap. Aided by a natural feeling of indolence they ended by taking it for granted that this sort of fighting would last.

Another hour went by. I vaguely wished I could take some interest in the struggle. If only I had had a periscope or some field-glasses. I was too slack to go and borrow Henriot's. For a moment I experienced a kind of humiliation--was this all that would be required of us? Should we share in the glory of this victory without having earned it?--No one, up till then, doubted that it would be a victory--and leave the honour of the decisive attacks to those African devils? And then I must admit that this thought suddenly pleased me. I should get off easily and my friends too. Everything seemed to be turning out for the best. And De Valpic? Oh, he would recover.

Then, lulled by the deafening tumult of the cannonade, with my eyes half closed, I indulged in visions of a tender face. I wandered, enchanted, in the golden mists of the future....