His words gave us strength to push the gun, the wheels of which kept turning backwards, forward into position again. "Hutin!" "What?" "Did you hear?" "Hear what?" "There it is again." "Bullets ..." "Yes." "In threes, double traverse!" The Captain had climbed into an apple-tree close to the fourth gun. The bullets, brushing over the crest, were too high to touch us, but they continually cut down leaves round the Captain. We begged him to come down. For the tenth time one of the gunners insisted: "You mustn't stay there, sir!" The Major interfered: "Come down, De Brisoult!" But the Captain, his glasses to his eyes, continued to scan the northern horizon and only answered quietly: "But I can see very well, sir ... very well. Nine hundred!..." "Nine hundred!" "Nine hundred!" repeated the gunners. Our infantry had doubtless retaken Lassigny. German shells were now bursting over the town, giving off clouds of yellow smoke. "One thousand!" We had at last found a more or less firm position for our gun, and our fire accelerated as the enemy fell back. "Eleven hundred!" "Twelve hundred!... Cease firing!" The detachments piled up in front of the trenches the ejected cartridge-cases which strewed the field. Bullets still continued to hum over our heads, but the 77 mm. shells were now falling wide of the mark. We remained motionless at the bottom of our trenches. Every few minutes Hutin asked me: "What time is it?" When I told him he became impatient: "Confound it!" said he, "we don't seem to be getting on!" In the afternoon, on an order from the division, the Major commanded the limbers to be brought up. The drivers arrived on horseback, at a trot. "Dismount!" shouted the Captain. They did not hear. Bullets, skimming over the crest, still whistled by. They would inevitably be killed. "Now then, altogether," said the senior N.C.O.... "One ... two ... three.... Dismount!..." Twenty voices were raised in a single shout. This time they heard, and, without stopping the limbers, the drivers hurriedly tumbled off their horses. * * * * * We took up a fresh position still nearer the enemy between two lines of poplars in a meadow overgrown with tall grass. Almost immediately the 77 mm. guns, which since the morning had been searching for us without success, began to threaten our battery. The enemy could not have seen our movements, and no aeroplane was visible aloft. Had our position been signalled by a spy? A foot-soldier passed, holding his abdomen with both hands and shifting from one foot to the other in the throes of intense suffering. "Is there an ambulance over there?" "Have you had a bullet in the stomach?" "No, here ... between the legs. It burns, it burns frightfully!" "Listen," said Millon, "make for our limbers--over there on the left, behind the trees. They've nothing to do, and will perhaps be able to help you." "Thanks! I'll go to them."