As the retirement went on the "set" kept up a stream of grumbles. The marches were too long. Poor reservists, we were being killed! Why did we halt so far from any well? Was it true that all the filth was thrown into them? Why was our company always given the most disgusting quarters? It was not surprising! Our captain didn't get on with any one! Who had to pay? We of course! And the baksheesh? Who got the baksheesh? As there wasn't even a ration of brandy every day. After "Beauclair" things got even worse. We only caught scraps of their declamations because they put on the soft pedal when they saw us coming, just as they did with the officers. Playoust among others was particularly good at posing as an excellent fellow who was never put out by anything. But out of the reach of "tell-tales" and "busy-bodies," their evil tongues wagged busily. It was sickening! they declared. The commanding officers were the outside limit! According to them our brigadier-general, an old Colonial, drank. The colonel was the kind of man to get us all hacked to pieces for the sake of keeping up his reputation for bravery. They gave us to understand they were delighted to see him wounded, and they would have been even more so if he had not been replaced by that old "dug-out." For that matter, you only need look at the result in order to see what our leaders were! Hopeless! If we weren't done for we deserved to be. Marches and counter-marches, bad management. We could hold the Bosches when we got them to grips. There was nothing to beat a French soldier! But as for preparation. Blimey! The slackers who had to look after that! Descroix cast up his eyes, swearing that those responsible would be found among the old ministers and present deputies. He foretold retaliation in the shape of lawsuits, or riots. Why was there such a lack of heavy artillery, of machine-guns, of searchlight apparatus, and armoured cars? Why did we see nothing of the aeroplanes whose praises we had had drummed into our ears for years? We were getting near to all the senseless recriminations of 1870. But they were not quite so serious this time, in spite of everything. They did not accuse Poincaré of having been bribed, or Joffre of being a traitor. They did not even go so far as to say that this war was absurd or unjust. We had to defend ourselves, after all! The most bitter complaints were of incompetence, and of the lack of foresight. Enough to be demoralising!