Having left him, I hurry back through the village and overtake my men at the moment when the column halts opposite the last houses of the village, on the already familiar road to the Amblonville farm. The supply wagons are waiting for us there, and the issue of rations takes place without the usual disputing and grumbling. Huge fires flame clear and high. The men squat about them, bathing their hands in the warmth, watching with idle eyes the steaming pots suspended above the brazier, roasting their faces, chests and legs, while the cold night behind them freezes their backs. We receive at last greasy steaks which burn our fingers; we drink coffee, hot but innocent of sugar; the grateful warmth of which runs through our whole bodies. Under these beneficent influences the aspect of affairs brightens a little. We may even be able to sleep a short while. My watch tells me it is only half-past one, so there is still plenty of time before day-break. We stretch ourselves out on the earth, ignoring the fact that our clothes want to freeze to us. How icy are the nights towards the end of September! Heavy eyelids droop over eyes which retain a vision of the jumping and leaping flames of the camp fires. And sleep so grateful to our weariness steals down gently, stilling the tumults in our hearts. A sleep well earned.... "Get up!" There is to be no sleep for us to-night; to-night we must march. Our legs do so from sheer habit, we accompany them. Here before us is a hill; we ascend it; it is steep. Here now are fields; the earth is very soft; everywhere there are holes which cause one to stumble or to fall prone with all one's weight, which is increased by the weight of the equipment. Where are we going? No one knows. Endless, these fields ... apparently we are never going to arrive at our destination. Only the leader of the detachment knows where that is, and apparently he has gone and lost himself somewhere. We wander at large. The ranks break up; we march in groups, in a herd, a herd of most miserable animals. To the right: to the left: straight ahead. Our legs move onwards from sheer habit. We are out of the cultivated fields now and passing over land covered with broom, stunted pines, and brambles which merge finally into dense woods. For a long time we follow their edge, a curiously capricious edge. It brings us to the side of a road. We halt there; that is our destination. The men, already half asleep, positively fall down. In a moment their numbed, overwearied bodies are at rest. Scattered dark masses: a deep silence broken occasionally by loud snores. VII THE ARMIES GO TO EARTH _Friday, September 25th._