A few minutes later they had plunged into the depths of a thick morning mist, that rolled like a lake between the heights. The steep road led them at length to the banks of the Aisne. The Germans had naturally blown up the bridge behind them, but the Sappers had erected a temporary structure by the side of the ruined one. It quivered under their weight, and as the Subaltern looked at the water swirling so swiftly beneath, he wondered what would happen if one of those huge shells were to blow it sky high.... Running parallel to the river, and about thirty yards away, was a canal. This was likewise successfully passed, and so the Aisne was crossed without a shot being fired. The Battalion was concentrated while the rest of the Brigade crossed the river. And all the time the sun was chasing away the light clouds of river vapour. Soon the enemy would see them, and they would be caught in this difficult and dangerous movement, and the results would be disastrous. But the minutes passed, and the mist melted almost entirely away, and still the guns were silent. At last they moved off, and began to ascend the slope. They were only just clear of the place when there was a whistle, a shriek, a bang and a roar. The explosion was two or three times greater than anything they had heard before. The very noise was intimidating, paralysing, and before they had had time to rally their nerves and collect themselves, before the awakened echoes had died away in the woods above, a second shell, as mighty as the first, sailed over their heads and exploded as titanically as it had done. This was the first occasion on which the British Armies had been brought face to face with the German super-heavy artillery. Naturally the result was a little disconcerting. Tons of death-dealing metal and explosive were being hurled through the air as if Atlas were hurling stars about. There was something elemental, and superhuman about such colossal force. One felt like a pygmy in a Battle of the Gods. They were profoundly ignorant of anything that was happening. Everything was normal, except the roar of guns. There was not even a sign of the cavalry being driven in. The only thing to do was to keep on until an order came, or something definite happened. The road had turned into a village called Moussy, and was now running parallel to the river, along the side of the slope. An order was passed along to "keep down under cover of the right bank," so they advanced, half crouching, about half a mile.