_19th August._—The 4th squadron is on reconnaissance. We start alone, at a venture. We are in the saddle all day. At night we make a triumphal entry into Gembloux and we are baited with drinks and food. The Germans are at the gates of the town and the crowd is wildly excited. The sun goes down without a cloud, round as a wafer. I forget the day’s fatigues and we venture across the plain and the woods. It is an agonising moment; we hide ourselves behind a long rick of flax; the enemy is some hundreds of mètres off and all night we have sentries out. I slept two hours yesterday, to-day I am passing the whole night on foot. The cold is cruel. Now and then my legs give way and I nearly fall on my knees. We have had nothing to eat but bread, the chill damp gets into our bones. Some Taubes pass, sowing agony. _20th August._—I am one of the point party under Lieutenant Chatelin. We fire on some horsemen at 600 mètres. The squadron is still on reconnaissance. One could sit down and cry from fatigue. We advance towards Charleroi, whose approaches are several kilomètres long. A population of miners. Everywhere are foundries, mines, factories, and for two hours unceasing acclamation. We arrive at a suburb of Charleroi, done up, falling out of our saddles. Interminable wait on the _place_; night falls. The camp kit comes up at last, but the march is not yet over, we are camping five kilomètres farther on. It is enough to kill one. We get to Landelies. Rest at last, we bivouac. I share a bed, with Delettrez, for the first time for three weeks. In a bed at one side a fat old woman is sleeping. No matter, it is an unforgettable night. _21st August._—Landelies; rest; we satisfy our hunger; we expect to pass a quiet day and night. At four o’clock we are off to an alarm; we are in the saddle all night and arrive in a little village, whose name I forget, half dead with hunger and cold. The peasants give us bread. We have been all day on horseback. _22nd August._—Are we going to have a little rest? No, we were out of bed all night and we are at it again. We do not understand the movements we are carrying out. _Are we retreating?_ The fatigue is becoming insupportable. We get to Bousignies at three in the morning. On the road I lost my horse during a halt and I found myself alone in the night and on foot. I had all the trouble in the world to catch up the squadron on foot. We slept two hours in the rain in a field of beetroot. Off again at 9 o’clock. Loud firing twenty kilomètres off. All the peasants are clearing out. They say that Charleroi is on fire.