w that by the feeling of my men for me. But the best
are dead. Bitter loss. This heroic regiment. We gained our object. Will
write at more length.

_February 22_ (1st day in billet).

DEAR BELOVED MOTHER,--I will tell you about the goodness of God, and the
horror of these things. The heaviness of heart that weighed me down this
month and a half past was for the coming anguish to be undergone in
these last twenty days.

We reached the scene of action on the 17th. The preparation ceased to
interest me; I was all expectation of the event. It broke out at three
o'clock: the explosion of seven mines under the enemy's trenches. It was
like a distant thunder. Next, five hundred guns created the hell into
which we leapt.

Night was coming on when we established ourselves in the positions we
had taken. All that night I was actively at work for the security of our
men, who had not suffered much. I had to cover great tracts, over which
were scattered the wounded and the dead of both sides. My heart yearned
over them, but I had nothing better than words to give them. In the
morning we were driven, with serious loss, back to our previous
positions, but in the evening we attacked again; we retook our whole
advance; here again I did my duty. In my advance I got the sword of an
officer who surrendered; after that I placed my men for guarding our
ground. The captain ordered me to his side, and I gave him the plan of
our position. He was telling me of his decision to have me mentioned,
when he was killed before my eyes.

Briefly, under the frightful fire of those three days, I organised and
kept going the work of supplying cartridges; in this job five of my men
were wounded. Our losses are terrible; those of the enemy greater still.
You cannot imagine, beloved mother, what man will do against man. For
five days my shoes have been slippery with human brains, I have walked
among lungs, among entrails. The men eat, what little they have to eat,
at the side of the dead. Our regiment was heroic; we have no officers
left. They all died as brave men. Two good friends--one of them a fine
model of my own for one of my last pictures--are killed. That was one of
the terrible incidents of the evening. A white body, splendid under the
moon! I lay down near him. The beauty of things awoke again for me.

At last, after five days of horror that lost us twelve hundred men, we
were ordered back from the scene of abomination.

The regiment has be