"You're not going to leave me here, are you? Take me away! I am wounded in three places." "Come along, then; we'll carry you into this farm." "No, no! They'll come and finish me. Please don't leave me behind." One cannot tell the poor fellow that he will be dead before the Germans arrive. It is courting death for ourselves also, sure enough, but we take him tenderly by the arm and drag him away with us. Very speedily the end comes, and we leave him lifeless on the ground. It is six o'clock. What remains of the section is crossing a field of oats. The bullets still follow us, also occasional bursts of artillery firing. We have to pass in and out of the projectiles like ants making their way between drops of water trickling from the rose of a watering-pot. The man by my side falls to the ground and lies there motionless. Behind me I hear the snort of a shell. "That one's for me!" I say to myself. Instinctively I hitch up my haversack over my head. The shell explodes, and I am lifted into the air. Then I find myself flat on the ground. A stifling feeling comes over me; I tear off my cravat, coat and equipment, and I know no more. It is night before I regain consciousness. Where am I? I stagger to my feet, but immediately sink to the ground like a drunken man. Rain is falling, thin but penetrating. The ground on which I lie stretched is a veritable quagmire. I perceive that my shirt and trousers form my only covering. My senses are quite confused; surely the whole thing is a horrible nightmare! I am shivering all over, and my mouth is full of blood. What am I doing here all alone in the middle of the night, and half undressed? I feel myself all over; not a scratch. My watch and knife are in their place. After all, I am not dreaming. Then memory suddenly returns: the skirmish-line, the withdrawal under fire, the shell. I look around: everywhere on the horizon flames are to be seen. An occasional boom of cannon in the distance. I must have fallen between the lines. Forward, straight in front of me, come what may. I cross a wood, and fall into a stream, where I remain for some time in an almost fainting condition. The rumbling of carriage wheels makes me prick up my ears. I blindly feel my way in the direction indicated; I have lost my glasses. A short-sighted person without his glasses is in the mental condition of a drowning man. I am at the end of my tether. For three hours I have been crawling along; the rumblings draw near. Soon I hear the sound of voices; my heart stands still! What if the language is German! A good French oath reaches my ears. I run forward; the ground slips from beneath my feet, and I tumble headlong down a steep path into the midst of a convoy of stretcher-bearers. They bundle me into a pair of blankets, as I am now quite helpless. I ask what time it is: three in the morning. I must have been unconscious from six o'clock till midnight. _Wednesday, 26th August._