A sapper coming fresh from this scene of horror, unable to rid himself of the soul-sickening memory of it, gave me these details. His words bring images before my eyes which remain with me until they assume the form of almost an hallucination. Yet nevertheless the gruesome picture awakens in me something of a bitter pride, a fierce joy--I feel an uncontrollable desire to shout aloud, a desire to kill still so imperious that I have to clench my teeth to repress it. It was as I stood before the little low-roofed Mayor's house in the village, my eyes scanning those few lines written by some surgeon or other, that I became the prey of one of the most intense and confusing emotions it is possible for the human heart to experience. Several times I walked up and down, passing and repassing soldiers still hustling one another in their endeavours to read the announcements. Strangely alike in appearance were they. The faces of one and all were mud-stained and bristles filled the hollows of their cheeks. Their blue great-coats bore traces of the dust of the road, of the mud of the fields, of the heavy rain; their boots and gaiters had long since acquired a permanently sombre colour; their clothes were worn and torn at knees and elbows, and from their tattered sleeves protruded hands incredibly dirty and hardened. Most of them appeared wearied and wretched beyond description. Nevertheless, these were the men who had just fought with superhuman energy, who had proved themselves stronger than German bullets and bayonets; these men were the conquerors. I should have liked to have told each one of them of the sudden glow of affection which filled me for them--those soldiers who have now won the admiration and respect of the whole world by sacrificing themselves so grandly without thought of sacrifice, without realizing the depth of their heroism. To-morrow perhaps they must once again take up their knapsacks, fasten on once more those cartridge-belts which chafe the shoulders, and go marching for hours, despite feet that swell and burn; sleep beside ditches full of water, eating only when the occasion presents, knowing hunger sometimes and thirst and coldness. They will go on, and among them not one will be found to grumble at the life before them. And when the hour sounds to fight once again, they will shoulder their rifles with the same easy indifference, will rush forward as eagerly between the bursts of enemy fire, will display the same tenacity before the mightiest efforts of the enemy. For in them dwell souls, ever scornful of weakness, strengthened and fortified by the conviction of victory, capable of conquering physical pain and weariness. Oh, all of you, my brothers in arms, we are going to do still better than we have already done, are we not?