Guillaumin, who appeared just then, asked if we were far from the frontier.
De Valpic enlightened him. Rather not! And judging by the direction we were taking we should soon be in that part of Lorraine which had been annexed1.
Good! It would have been maddening to go a long way round.
We reached étain, where we had a warm welcome, as the Bosches had not returned in spite of their boasting. We only went straight through the town.
It was a long stage, but we did not get over-tired in this mild weather. Milestone2 succeeded milestone. Metz: 43 km. 41, 40, 38.... Guillaumin was exultant3:
And Judsi:
[Pg 279]
"We'll be sleepin' in their bloomin' country, to-morrow."
Some of the men may have believed it. I thought it only right to moderate the enthusiasm.
"Oh Metz! We haven't got there yet. The siege is sure to be ghastly!"
The lieutenant5 who was passing, chaffed me:
"Dreher, as pessimistic as usual? He'll never believe we're getting on, until he's in Berlin."
We went into quarters at Buxy. Shortly after midnight there was an alarm. The artillery6 which we had not heard for some days was talking again. As old stagers we had missed the noise, it cheered us up.
But we grumbled7 when, having been called up and paraded in the Church Square, we were kept hanging about and freezing for an hour or more. The men "groused," and wanted to know why they couldn't be left to sleep in peace.
A lot of them wanted to "get down to it" again, and we had hard work to prevent them. A certain number sloped off in the dark. Each platoon lost a few who never turned up again.
Suddenly there was an uproar8 and crush at the other end of the Square. We had to spread ourselves to keep order. Playoust went to see what was up, leaving his half-section to take care of itself, with the natural consequence that it disbanded. He came back, raising his hands, with awful tales of the whole populace fleeing before the invaders9! There was nothing to be done! This time the Bosches were coming in dense10 masses, ravaging11 and setting fire to everything!
A group was formed round him. The men listened[Pg 280] anxiously. He pulled a face. Was he rotting, or speaking the truth? We never thought of interrupting. However someone did take it upon himself. It was De Valpic, whom no one had counted on.
"That'll do, Playoust! No tomfoolery!"
The other was quite taken aback. Guillaumin and I saw the danger, and went to the rescue, turning his tales to ridicule12. He tried to back out of it. The men were reassured13, and began to laugh, and our own confidence was strengthened by it too.
Yes, but what were we waiting for here? For orders, always orders! They were delayed for a good while longer, and when they did arrive, dumbfounded us! We were to fall back on étain.
There was nothing to be done but obey, so we retraced14 our steps along the road we had followed so gaily15 the day before. Dissimulation16 was no longer possible. We caught up and mingled17 with the sad troops of fugitives18. As long as the darkness lasted, we only half-realised what it meant. But what a ghastly vision of distress19 the daybreak brought us!
A dismal20 procession of women, children, and old men, many of them on foot, laden22 with packages and bags, or pulling and pushing wheelbarrows and hand-carts—the others huddled23 pêle-mêle in conveyances24 of all ages, shapes, and sizes, drawn25 by oxen, donkeys, and dogs. The whole populace, as Playoust had said, people hurrying along, elbowing their way, getting hung up, and delayed. Their heads were hanging, and they did not answer the stream of questions which burst from our ranks. Babies' tears, and mothers' sighs. Every other minute a cyclist, or a staff car cleared a way for itself, tooting and cursing.... And I remember an old, a very[Pg 281] old peasant, perched on a big tilted26 cart brandishing27 his pitch-fork and shouting to us, as he pointed28 in the opposite direction:
"That's where they be, you slackers!"
I was glad when, by eight o'clock, we had out-distanced the gloomy horde29, by our regular pace. But a long halt on the outskirts30 of étain condemned31 us to being caught up again by the mournful stream which flowed all day.
In the evening we set off again, and once more went through the little town. How it had changed since the day before!
We asked:
"What's happening?"
"They are there!" was the reply.
"There!" One would have thought they meant a hundred yards away! The inhabitants were turning out. I can see a well-dressed old woman, in mourning, on the pavement in front of her house, loading a waggon—her maid was helping34 her—with a confused medley35 of furniture, ornaments36, clothes.
"You needn't be in such a bloomin' hurry, Mother," shouted Judsi; "can't you see we're here!"
"You won't stop them," she retorted.
"Oh, steady on!"
"You won't stop them, I tell you! It's just like it was in 1870!"
She raised her gaunt arm, her piercing voice carried well.
We passed on, but could hear her apostrophising the platoons and companies behind us:
[Pg 282]
"You won't stop them!"
The night fell, but we marched on and on. What a day's march this was, too. Having had a meal we managed to hold out. We advanced without thinking and yet what extraordinary sights we came across. The enormous column of fugitives was trailing along this roadway too. This time we were going up-stream, pushing northwards from étain.
But what were these soldiers scattered41 among the heart-breaking band. The moon was beginning to shine. We caught sight of uniforms, at first isolated42, then in groups—all the troops mixed, and the ranks, too, apparently43.... The strange thing was that it never occurred to us to ask what they were all doing or where they were going.... A few details only struck us. Why so many foot-sloggers on horseback? This problem worried Guillaumin. He sounded me several times.
"Of course!"
We advanced in silence, mechanically keeping our intervals46, our columns of four. No more peasants, and only an infinitesimal number of civilians47 drifted down-stream now. The crowd was swelling48 though. Transports and teams followed each other, rolling along, slipping and sliding. They were all military-limbered waggons49, forage50 waggons, ambulance waggons, munition51 waggons, a sutler's van. Battery after battery—an extraordinary state of confusion. Here were mud-crushers whipping horses, some of which[Pg 283] fell, there hussars on foot, dragging their worn-out beasts along.
We passed companies lying in the shade of the ditch, and envied them. There had been no halt for us for two hours at least. We had just climbed a hill; I was marching with half-closed eyes. Guillaumin nudged me:
"Heavens above!"
I opened my eyes. A large stretch of country lay before us, a dark undulating plain enamelled with monstrous52 glares.
I turned towards my companion.
"Villages!" he murmured.
Burning! That woke us up. We slowed down bewildered.
Bouillon said:
I counted the fires. Two to the right of the road, one of which seemed quite near, and had high flames shooting up, which cast a glow all round. Three to the left, and right in front of us at the axis54 of our march, a huge conflagration55.
Spincourt? I had heard that name.
The guns were growling56 sullenly57. I tried to work, myself up to a generous pitch of fury. These hamlets in flame, this blood-stained earth, was my France, my Lorraine!
But I was like a disconnected electric current.
We were told to lie down in the ditch where we slept. But not for long. We were made to get up and retire a little, and lie down again—we slept once more—then we returned to our first site. We obeyed without grousing58, and this time the rest was more worth having. We dozed59 until daybreak.
[Pg 284]
The defilade along the white road continued. How many officers and men, with horror and despair at their hearts, did we meet that August dawn? Henriot came to find us. He was tortured with suspense60 at last. What were all these people doing? We shook our heads, hesitating to pronounce an opinion. It all passed as in a dream. Silent, preoccupied61 phantoms62 who seemed to be hastening towards some goal....
Now, however, some were to be seen whose pace was less rapid, and who did not detest63 being looked at—men who had been wounded, only slightly for the most part—who seemed to be saying, "We have done our bit!"
A few of us ventured to question them. Oh, what replies we got. A snare64! A shambles65! There were too many Huns! Each man claimed to be the only one left of his battalion66 or regiment67.
A battalion sergeant68-major, hit in the foot, gave us a graphic69 account. "The Bosches were coming out of a wood, our 75's loosed off a belt at them, and made pretty good shooting too. You ought to have seen the blighters dance! We were under shelter, not far off, enjoying ourselves enormously. They were blown up and fell in little pieces. Platoon after platoon cut up. Others followed them, to be met with the same fate. More still—until at the end of an hour, there was a thick rampart of dead bodies all along the edge of the wood. But new lots kept on coming up and crossing the obstacle, others shoving them on from behind. Our guns were beginning to stop talking—not enough shells. And the grey swarm70 slipped through into the plain. Suddenly we were threatened and attacked and overwhelmed. What could we do? Retire! We ran for our lives."
[Pg 285]
Henriot ground his teeth, and muttered:
"No, no, not that."
"You'll soon see!" said the other.
Other accounts were in a different key. There was often a question of a defensive72 taken by us. We advanced, and lay down and fired. Everything was going well, but then suddenly the hostile machine guns were unmasked. Ran, ran, ran, ran. The famous crackle went on and on, mowing73 our lines down like corn. No use being plucky74! What could we do? (That was the everlasting75 refrain.) Escape! Never to return again.
Some badly wounded men appeared supported by three or four comrades who made use of the excuse to escape. There were very few orderlies and stretcher-bearers. One heard nothing but complaints, for the most part unjust, of the army medical corps76. Guillaumin undertook to see a Zouave, who had just come a cropper, to the neighbouring dressing77 station. He came back disgusted. A major had grossly insulted him:
"Oh, go to the devil! Your pal's done for!"
A certain number, who were dragging themselves along in a sorry state, found the strength to exhort78 us, with a melodramatic gesture, to avenge79 them.
Others pitied us:
"Poor lads. You don't know what it is!"
"You think not!" retorted Bouguet. "We had a taste of it at Mangiennes!"
"Pooh!" The others snorted with contempt. "Mangiennes!" Did we think that counted!
Some gunners, black with powder, who were squatting80 in a cart, shook their fists at the foot-sloggers.[Pg 286] The latter, absolutely broken down, and drunk with rage, returned their invectives. They were just on the point of pulling out their bayonets. Our company commander, who had witnessed the scene, seized the most rabid by the collar. His tone and rank over-awed them.
An old sergeant, with touches of grey on his temples, followed, holding his cap in his hand, and repeating in a singsong voice:
"Stick to your packs, lads!"
It was broad daylight now. All our poilus were up, taking in every detail of the show.
Will you believe that in the end not one of us was seriously demoralised. Warnings and narratives81 left us rather sceptical. We even felt an uncharitable tendency to rag survivors82 of the furnace. Their hasty gait, their burlesque83 accoutrements! Above all each tragic84 assurance: "I'm the only one left of the X——," raised storms of laughter. We had seen dozens and hundreds of bearers of that device march past! Judsi exclaimed:
"Don't cry about it, old chap! Your chums are waiting for you in Paris!"
I believe that at the bottom of our hearts each one of us felt na?vely convinced that our arrival would put everything right....
The realisation that we were witnessing a rout85 did however penetrate86 my consciousness at last, though still only in a vague way. Vaguely87 too I dreaded88 lest our energy should suffer by it.
I was delighted when we got orders, about six o'clock, to leave the high road. We went across country for not more than four or five hundred yards.
[Pg 287]
A French dirigible, the Fleurus, passed high above our heads, and seemed, I do not quite know why, a happy omen21.
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1
annexed
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| [法] 附加的，附属的 | |
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2
milestone
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| n.里程碑；划时代的事件 | |
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3
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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7
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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8
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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9
invaders
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| 入侵者，侵略者，侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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10
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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ravaging
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| 毁坏( ravage的现在分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
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ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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14
retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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dissimulation
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| n.掩饰，虚伪，装糊涂 | |
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17
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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19
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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21
omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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conveyances
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| n.传送( conveyance的名词复数 )；运送；表达；运输工具 | |
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25
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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26
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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27
brandishing
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| v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 )；炫耀 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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horde
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| n.群众，一大群 | |
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30
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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32
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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33
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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34
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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35
medley
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| n.混合 | |
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36
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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37
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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38
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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40
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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41
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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45
drowsily
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| adv.睡地，懒洋洋地，昏昏欲睡地 | |
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46
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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civilians
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| 平民，百姓( civilian的名词复数 )； 老百姓 | |
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48
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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waggons
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| 四轮的运货马车( waggon的名词复数 )； 铁路货车； 小手推车 | |
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forage
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| n.(牛马的)饲料，粮草；v.搜寻，翻寻 | |
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51
munition
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| n.军火；军需品；v.给某部门提供军火 | |
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52
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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53
wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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54
axis
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| n.轴，轴线，中心线；坐标轴，基准线 | |
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55
conflagration
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| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
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56
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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grousing
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| v.抱怨，发牢骚( grouse的现在分词 ) | |
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dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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62
phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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63
detest
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| vt.痛恨，憎恶 | |
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64
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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65
shambles
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| n.混乱之处；废墟 | |
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battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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graphic
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| adj.生动的，形象的，绘画的，文字的，图表的 | |
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70
swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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71
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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72
defensive
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| adj.防御的；防卫的；防守的 | |
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73
mowing
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| n.割草，一次收割量，牧草地v.刈，割( mow的现在分词 ) | |
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74
plucky
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| adj.勇敢的 | |
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75
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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77
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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78
exhort
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| v.规劝，告诫 | |
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79
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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80
squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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81
narratives
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| 记叙文( narrative的名词复数 )； 故事； 叙述； 叙述部分 | |
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82
survivors
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| 幸存者，残存者，生还者( survivor的名词复数 ) | |
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83
burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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84
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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85
rout
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| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
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86
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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87
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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88
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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89
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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