rve de C. What a pleasure it was
to shake their hands, and to see their bronzed faces and dusty
garments.

We now went on together, chatting merrily. C. knew the village where
the regiment was to be billeted. We went straight for it at a trot. It
was there that, at nightfall, I was going to find my chiefs again, my
comrades and my men; and I should at last take my part in the
fighting. I could not know what the days to follow had in store for
me, but I did know that none could be so cruel for me as the day when
I went to the Front. I was now in the bosom of my military family, and
I looked forward to taking my share of danger at the head of the brave
Chasseurs I knew so well. Doubtless I should now know where we were
going; why we had to advance, and why to retire.

It seems that moral suffering is less keen when it can be shared with
others. I shall never suffer again what I suffered that day.

II. THE FIRST CHARGE

_September 4._

Six o'clock in the evening.

The atmosphere was heavy and stifling. The regiment had been formed
into two columns, to the right and the left of the high-road from
Vauchamps to Montmirail. The men, tired out, their faces black with
dust, had hardly dismounted when they threw themselves on the ground
and slept in a field of cut corn. The officers chatted together in
groups to keep themselves awake. Nights are short when you are on
campaign. The bivouac was pitched at midnight and was to be struck at
three o'clock in the morning.

And since six o'clock the battle had been raging, for the enemy had
engaged our rearguard almost immediately. This had happened each day
of that unforgettable retreat, begun at the Sambre and pushed beyond
the Marne. Each day we had had to fight. Each day the enemy was
repulsed. Each day we were obliged to retire.

Brother-soldiers!--you who came through those painful hours--shall you
ever forget them? Shall you ever forget the anguish that wrung your
hearts when, as the sun was sinking, you, who had seen so many of your
comrades fall, had to give up a further portion of our sweet France;
to deliver up some of our lovely hamlets, some of our fields, our
orchards, our gardens, some of our vineyards, to the barbarians?...
You were ordered to do so. We have learnt, since then, how important
such sacrifices were. But, at the time, we did not know ... and doubt
came into our minds. We passed through cruel days, and nothing will
ever efface th