We rushed the village, marvelling, in spite of the preparation, at such an easy success. Then we saw that the enemy had been warned and had evacuated it just before the bombardment had begun. The horrible part was that we had destroyed this village for nothing, nothing at all. Not a house was left standing, not a strip of wall spared. Some of the inhabitants, some women, came out of the smoking remains. They had taken refuge in the cellars during the devastating cyclone,--many of them had been killed there. Mad with rancour, among the ruins, they hurled taunts at us: "Ah. It's you! It's your work, is it! Even the Bosches are better than you!" That evening, we retired again after severe fighting. A night march, in zigzag formation, and in the morning bewilderment. We had retired too quickly, it seemed, leaving all our artillery unsupported, and in the greatest danger. We ourselves were surrounded, so it was said. This time it was really serious! We were assured that the situation was as desperate as it could be. Our colonel, the one like Dumény, had got a splinter in his thigh. The new one collected his officers and pointed out that no choice was left but to surrender or perish. His had been made he added, tapping his revolver. (Henriot was my authority for these details.) Someone or other, he said, had gone as far as to suggest cutting up the colours to prevent them being left in the hands of the enemy. Each N.C.O. and each private should carry away a shred. They had got as far as that! And then a young staff-captain dropped into the middle of them shouting; "For Heaven's sake, sir, send someone to relieve the guns!" He energetically took the direction of the operations into his own hands. A certain battalion was to play a certain part! Such-and-such a company as flankers. And there was not a minute to be lost! He was a born leader! We would have followed him wherever he chose. Our counter-attack was successful, and enabled the gunners to bring their batteries and ammunition waggons back. There was talk, the same day, of an extensive advantage obtained in our neighbourhood. We triumphantly thought we had done with these retrograde marches. No such luck! At night, orders came as usual to beat a retreat. We were entering on another stage of our fantastic itinerary. A flight--as we were being pursued. The hamlets of Argonne again burst into flame behind us. One evening twelve torches could be counted blazing beneath the lowering sky.... Astounding rumours began to spread. The most persistent, but also the one which found the least credence, was this: "Laon and La Fère invested!" CHAPTER III STRENGTH OF MIND