His warm Southern accent had made me start. How many convoys had he seen rolling past in the same direction during the few hours he had been there with his battery. The concentration! The idea of this gigantic operation made one think: these trains whose time-tables had been arranged months, no years, in advance, these hundreds upon hundreds of trains flashing across the country in every direction; skirting gulfs and mountains, crossing the rivers, flowing in from every extremity of France, carrying the immense masses of war material, and the harvest of young men. Caught up in this huge mechanism, this invisible unity, what a small thing I was, for all my pride of intellect! * * * * * A new tack soon threw us off the main lines. I occasionally turned round to look into the interior of the carriage, where the men were sleeping, livid beneath the swinging lantern, like corpses, I thought, at the bottom of a sunken submarine. I stayed like this for a long time, half-awake and half-dreaming. In what direction were we going? To Maubeuge? Or Châlons? I remember a long stop in the middle of the night on a siding on the outskirts of Noisy-le-Sec. Some of the men were awake, eating bread and cheese. I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Well, are you going to make up your mind to it?" Guillaumin asked me. "To what?" I yawned. "To take a nap. Why you're so sleepy you can hardly stand up! Come along and lie down!" "Where? There's no room!" "What about my place?" I declined it with thanks. He insisted. Oh, come along! It was his turn to take the air! Very well. I gave in. We started off again. The outlook was no longer so attractive. The glow of Paris had faded into the distance, and the moon had just sunk behind the deep blue horizon. CHAPTER II HARASSED, ALREADY When I woke, dawn was stealing in by the door which was once more open. Judsi had installed himself at it, his legs dangling outside. We all looked the worse for wear and had puffy faces. Where were we? It was dreary, barren country, an indefinite switchback of bald ridges. The rocky part of Champagne apparently. Exactly. A few minutes later our train drew up at Rheims. The weather was dull and drizzly. We felt cold when we got out: the men began to stamp their feet. We N.C.O.'s joined up together. Descroix and Humel complained bitterly of stiffness. The filthy carriages! Must have been made on purpose for us! Everyone was sighing for his coffee. Guillaumin preached patience. Frémont had wandered off to scribble a letter. De Valpic was pale and silent and heavy-eyed. I left them and went in search of some clean water. When I came back, tidied up and much refreshed, coffee had been brought. The tin drinking cups were plunged at will into the "dixeys." It was scalding! A real treat! There was "rooty" too. And the sun came out: we were reviving.