On the day appointed for the performance chairs were placed for the higher officers, the chief of the battalion, and the captains. The privates noisily disposed of themselves as chance permitted. There were spectators roosting on the wheels of carts, others perched on straw-stacks; wherever a body could hold its equilibrium, there was a body. An improvised orchestra opened the entertainment. Then several singers followed with comic songs. The applause was tumultuous, as high spirits mounted higher. We forgot the war, at that moment, and its suffering and privation. A ballad touched our deeper sentiment. A monologue was punctuated with laughter. The hilarious faces of the spectators told of their pleasure--the joy of living, with youth and health. We relaxed our tense nerves, and became human beings again. There were no more shells, no more mud, no more guard duty, no more fatigue. The tragedy had paused; and, if one had not heard the growling rage of the cannon bent upon its work of death and destruction, one would have believed that there could be no more pleasant existence. On other days there were games in the open air. Like children freed from school the men ran in the meadows, tussled in a game of prisoner’s base, or played leap-frog. The suppleness of body, the litheness of movement, were such as to inspire admiration. These were no longer soldiers, but graceful athletes, with agile muscles and solid torso. Under the trees gently waving in the breeze, with the clear sky of France above a charming countryside, the scene evoked the picture of the athletic games of antiquity. Not even the group of philosophers was lacking, walking up and down and arguing. Thus the hours ran on, peaceful and all too short. The troop took a fresh breath, renewed its spirit, calmed excited nerves, found new courage and a magnificent enthusiasm. The cruel remembrance of dark hours, of horrible spectacles, of losses, became dim. We found again a vibrant love of life. The soul-sickness which had grown upon us at the parapets, under the shells, melted away in the new environment, in the joy of a recreation dearly won. The week of vacation was completed. They were new men, refreshed and invigorated, who fell into line when the hour arrived. In the darkness we retraced the road by which we had come. We were returning to the battle, we were re-entering the tunnels, the dugouts, the redans, the trenches, the parallels. Now we were the relief, in our turn. We took our place. We brought back with us arms, food, replenished cartridge-boxes, new men to fill the vacancies in our ranks. More than that, we brought back valor, patience, faith, and a spirit reborn. We entered again the domain of death, again we began the agony. IX THE BATTLE OF CHAMPAGNE