Not one sergeant! Not even a corporal! All those squads which become after a time a well-beloved family to those in charge of them, a family not to be parted from without sorrow and regret--here they are deprived of their leaders, to whom they look up constantly, who watch over them, who sustain them through long and difficult hours by the mere magic of their presence. I had known each one of them so well, those I had lost to-day! They were the men of my choice, men for whom a single word from me was sufficient, men who had never sought to shirk their duties, accepting their task whatever it was, and fulfilling it to the very best of their powers. Others would take their places. What would they be like? And just when I had come to know these newcomers also, they would be struck down too, and would disappear, or perhaps my turn would come, or that of my men! Nothing lasting, nothing that the greatest of our efforts can make really ours, even for a day. The weariness of eternally beginning over again, the sadness of acquaintances ended with a mere farewell, all the minutes of our days and nights besieged by death, death which seizes on its victims in a second's space, which selects so blindly! Unhappy above all men is he whose heart cherishes the memories of old affections and griefs through days unending! Close to me in the darkness someone is sobbing, sobs which cannot be choked down, which break out again and again, deep and heart-broken, bringing anguish to those who hear. I can see him who sobs, sitting in the ditch, hunched and huddled together beneath the burden of his sorrow. I know, too, why he sobs; I went up to him at once, and, as he knew me, he unburdened himself.... He had a brother who was in the half section he commanded. They had fought in the wood side by side and almost at the beginning of the business the other had received a bullet in the leg.