I was in the rear of the section. I considered our column; expressions and attitudes at that moment imprinted themselves on my memory. Fifteen yards in front at the head of the section Guillaumin was marching along with his usual swing. I ran an eye over my half-sections. Here were Gaudéreaux and Trichet; there was Judsi, the buffoon, giving an imitation of the goose step; Lamalou with his képi _à la_ Knut. Loriot, the man with the rupture, gloomy and already dragging his leg along affectedly; my corporals, Donnadieu, a little pale, sandy-haired man gripping the butt of his rifle convulsively. Bouguet, extremely fit, turning round to see that all his men were there. It gave one the impression of a holiday parade. I have mentioned the windows decorated with bunting, the men's rifles and packs too were ornamented with little flags. And the flowers! In one section, Trichet, who was a gardener by trade, had procured great bundles of them. They had been distributed among the different half-sections. The other sergeants had been given roses or dahlias by their men. I had been forgotten, and when Bouillon, who was annoyed about it, had brought me some geraniums just as we were starting, I refused them with thanks! Quite unnecessary! I alone was clear-headed. You would have thought that I alone knew to what a sinister revel we were hastening. Left! Right! We were all marching at the same pace, towards our mysterious destiny. For how many of us had Fate signed the order of arrest! I tried to pick out the first victims. Was it that block-head--Henry, I think, they called him--who would be picked up in a fortnight's time, with his leg or head torn off? A big dark fellow was laughing, showing his teeth in a huge guffaw. I mentally put him down as not being one of those who would come back. This ghastly game fascinated me. On getting to the main street we halted for a time and waited to take our place in the regiment. The bugles passed by. Sol mi: Sol do! La classe s'en va! Then we followed the stream. A line had formed three-deep along each pavement. All F----, all the neighbouring country was crowded there. Our departure effected the country even more than that of the regulars. These men from twenty-five to thirty years old were the married youth, who had taken root and founded a family. Drawn up in the doorways, or leaning from the windows, women and children, with all their heart, were shouting: "Long live the 3rd...!" A territorial called out: "Halloa boys? We're coming on the day after to-morrow!" "Hm! At a safe distance!" Judsi retorted gaily. The men waved and smiled at their relations and friends who had come up, but nothing further; there was no chance of hanging behind, or falling out. Even Judsi soon gave up his tomfoolery; each one felt instinctively that a brave bearing would influence the people's confidence. The clamour round us continued to increase: "Long live France! Long live the 3rd...."