When we returned to regimental headquarters we led an ordinary barrack life there. The admirable unity which made us all brothers in the firing line had a tendency to relax in face of the pettiness of ordinary military duty. Peace-time jealousies showed themselves during our forced inactivity, when our tour of service did not call us far from our horses to dismounted fighting. For this reason, and as I was desirous of living again and renewing acquaintance with those intoxicating hours to which one becomes accustomed as a necessary factor in life, preferring, in short, to perform the duties of a foot-soldier with real infantry men, knowing their duties and suitably equipped, rather than to degenerate into a dismounted dragoon, I asked to be appointed 2nd Lieutenant in an infantry regiment as soon as the ministerial circular concerning cavalry non-commissioned appeared. Fifteen days later my request was granted. I was gazetted 2nd Lieutenant on February 3rd. The 22nd were at Volckerinkove. M. de Vesian told me of my appointment, and a few hours later I was sent with the others who had been recently promoted—Fuéminville, Marin and Paris—to the headquarters of the 5th Division, and from there to Poperinghe to the headquarters of the 9th Army Corps. In spite of my decision, taken freely of my own accord, I was very sorry to leave the 22nd. It was for me a page turned over, something finished. I passed down the ranks and shook hands with all those comrades by whose side I had marched, slept and fought for six months, and then, without looking behind me, I set off on horseback on a fine sunny day. Having been posted to the 90th Regiment of the Line, I followed a course of instruction at Vlamertinghe, with the newly gazetted officers from Saint-Cyr. After fifteen days of a monotonous and tranquil life the class broke up on the 21st. On the morning of the 22nd I rejoined the 90th, and the same evening we left to go into action. In February I was again in the trenches, those which I occupied affording me great amusement. We left at half-past eight in the morning, and we had eighteen kilomètres to march. At Ypres we made a few minutes’ halt on the edge of the pavement before the celebrated Cloth Hall. I looked eagerly around me, wishing to fix the sights which met my eyes. They were intensely picturesque and of peculiar interest. When the war is over shall we ever again see such a picture? It is not likely. Night had come. It was a time propitious for reliefs, hence everywhere feverish activity reigned. All lights in the town were masked. Under a moon, luminous as shining chalk, the cathedral and the Cloth Hall were of a dazzling white, which made the gaping wounds which the shells have made in the stonework all the blacker and more apparent.