"No one is ever killed for nothing!" the other answered. "And as to your stripes, if you daren't wear them, I'll relieve you of them!" "The captain's a fool!" I said. "Do you think so?" "Certainly! It's probably true that the Bosches mark the N.C.O.'s." Goodness knows I held no brief for Descroix, but Guillaumin disgusted me then with his little heroic sniffs. I had decided to use my pack as a shield. I told him. "Pooh! Do you think that's any good?" I implored him to follow my example. It was sufficient protection against grape-shot. He ended by allowing himself to be convinced, and gave the same advice to the men who for the most part did not follow it. Henriot, on his knees, was watching for the signal and giving us endless pieces of advice in an under-tone. "You'll all start at once. Keep your eyes fixed on me, see? At the double. Is that clear? And as for firing, be careful about that. Be sure to wait for the order to fire!" "Talk away," muttered Lamalou; "think we're going to wait for your bally permission when we get a sight of the Bosches?" The whistle was blown. "Advance!" shouted the subaltern. CHAPTER XI A MUCH STIFFER MATTER We had hardly taken fifteen steps when the whistle began in our ears again! We threw ourselves down. But not quickly enough! Our left hesitated ... and got mixed. "Scatter! Can't you? You ..." I shouted. A man spun round and fell. Henriot bellowed: "Can't you lie down?" But his voice hardly reached us. "Why doesn't he lie down himself?" said Judsi. "Wot's the sense in it?" He added: "Pore Siméon. See wot a bloomin' pirouette 'e made. Didn't I say 'e was too tall!" The firing slackened off, but we naturally saw nothing. A new rush--too long that one! Pffmm.... Crack! We were enveloped in a noise like the snapping of straps. A man fell not far from me, and the fellow next him looked as if he were going to stop. "No, no! There isn't time," I shouted. "Run! Run!" shouted Henriot. It was easily said! We had just gone into a ploughed field, and the earth stuck to our shoes. "Will you run?" repeated the subaltern in a feverish tone. I began to trot ponderously, steadying my water-bottle and my haversack. Two or three of the men did the same, but at the end of twenty yards we gave it up, out of breath.... I turned round and saw one of my chaps fall. I ran up. "Well, Loriot, what's up now?" "Oh, the blighters!" he groaned. "Oh, the bloody bastards!" "What's the matter?" His hands were glued to his front. He shrieked. "Ow! my rupture!" It was put on. I was not going to be caught! "Get up!" "Not much!" I shook him. "Up you get, Loriot!" While he was going into contortions the others were gaining ground. Infuriated I yelled in his ear: "You could be shot for this!" But I suddenly felt doubtful. Was he really shamming? Tears were oozing out of his eyes. "It's because I ran," he groaned.