Once more night came on, putting an end to the terrible work of the day. Our sentinels, in absolute silence, went back to their outposts, and we waited for the comrades who were to replace us in the trenches. Our food was all gone and nothing more to eat or drink was brought to us. We began to get very anxious. At eleven o'clock, the Senegalese came to take possession of our trenches. These brave soldiers came so quietly that they took us almost by surprise. They are tall, strong fellows, and in the dusk only their eyes and teeth can be seen shining in contrast to their black skin. We were glad to have them with us. They had scarcely been there half an hour, when the enemy attacked them, but without any success. The Senegalese rushed forward to meet the enemy, whom they repulsed with their bayonets and knives. As to us, glad to be free for a time, we marched along with big strides in spite of our fatigue. There was a death-like silence in Dixmude. The stretcher-bearers, taking away the wounded, were all that gave to these smoking ruins a little life. We crossed the shaky bridge over the Yser once more and moved on, after giving a last sad look at the huge pile of _debris_, with its dead, which was all that was left of the town. On the road, our Major told us that we were going to have a rest, that our banner had just been decorated with the "Order of Leopold," and that the name of "Dixmude" was to be embroidered on it in gold letters. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 8: _The Campaign of the Belgian Army._] [Footnote 9: The Artillery ammunition began to be scarce a few days later. Towards the 25th it was chiefly the congested traffic of the railroads which interfered with the supply.] CHAPTER XXVI Eight Days in Dixmude Extracts from the Diary of an Artillery Observer, by F. de Wilde of Brigade B (Formerly 12th Brigade) _October 19, 1914._ We have been at Nieucapelle for the last three days. The war is getting picturesque. Blue or red burnous are now to be seen as the army passes along. The horses are small and their riders perched on the saddle like monkeys. The whole tribe must have set out together, as there are several generations, from youths to old men with faces like parchment. At eight o'clock, we had been ordered to assemble at Oudecapelle. We found the horde of _goumiers_ there, giving a touch of Orientalism to the melancholy Flemish landscape. Our men fraternised with them, and details about Arab life were soon forthcoming.