so, it is torture to watch comrades advancing under
the enemy's fire without any protection. At that moment the Germans
were concentrating their fire upon that small line of men we were
looking at, 200 yards away from us. The shells succeeded one another
uninterruptedly, but without any greater precision. We watched our
friends coming nearer until they had almost reached our barricade, and
noticed that two of the Chasseurs were being supported by their
comrades. In our anxiety, we got up out of shelter, but d'A. shouted:
"It's nothing; only scratches...."

At last they got in, and whilst our good and indefatigable
Assistant-Surgeon P. took charge of the wounded men we pressed round
the officer and questioned him as to what he had seen. "Are there many
of them?" "Was there any infantry?" we asked. But his daring
reconnaissance had not been very fruitful. He had had to stop when the
artillery had opened fire on him, and had not been able to see how
many adversaries we had to deal with.

Acting on the advice of Major P., our Captain, who had just rejoined
us with the third troop, gave orders to mount. We were only in the way
here, where there were too many defenders already, so recrossed the
bridge to put ourselves at the Colonel's disposal. I led with my
troop, and we passed through Jaulgonne by the main street. The
inhabitants thought we were beating a retreat and became uneasy. Some
women uttered cries, begging us not to leave them at the mercy of the
enemy. We had to calm them by saying that they need not fear, that we
were still holding the Germans, that our infantry would soon arrive,
and that in an hour the foe would have decamped.

To tell the truth, we were not quite so sure of it ourselves. The
enemy was in some force, and he had guns. Our infantry had at least 15
kilometres to march before their advance guard even could debouch on
the bridge at Jaulgonne. If they had not started before dawn they
would not arrive before eleven o'clock, and it was then barely nine.
The German artillery was already beginning to fire upon the village.

Suddenly, as we reached the market-place, we saw a group of three
dismounted Chasseurs emerging from an alley that ran down steeply to
the Marne. They belonged to F.'s troop. Two of them were supporting
the third, whom we at once recognised. It was Laurent, a fine fellow,
and a favourite with the whole squadron. It went to our hearts to see
him. His left eye was nothing but a red