In the Field (1914-1915) | Page 2

mysterious reason. The three horses, frightened at being brought into
collision with each other, made the van echo to the thunder of their
hoofs as they slipped, stamped, and recovered their balance. I got up to
calm them with soothing words and caresses. By the light of the
wretched lantern swinging and creaking above the door I could see
their three heads, with pricked ears and uneasy eyes. They were
breathing hard and could not understand why they had been brought
away from their comfortable stable with its thick litter of clean straw.
They were not thinking about the war, but they seemed to understand
that their good times were over, that they would have to resign
themselves to all sorts of discomforts, march unceasingly, pass nights
in camps under the pouring rain, keep their heavy equipment on their
backs for many days together, and not always get food when they were
hungry.
Then the train would set off again with a noise of tightened couplings
and creaking waggons. Whilst I was mechanically looking out at the
darkness, dotted here and there with the coloured lights of the signals
placed along the line, my straying thoughts would wander to the fields
of battle and try to picture the scene on my arrival at the Front.
It was the 28th of August, nearly a month after the order had been
given for mobilisation. And the armies had been fighting for some days
already. What had happened? We could only glean part of the truth
from the short official announcements. We knew there had been hard
fighting at Charleroi, at Dinant, and in the direction of Nancy. But the
result had not been defined. I thought I could guess, however, that these
battles had not been decisive, but that they had cost both sides dear. I
was tempted to rejoice, fool that I was, to think that the first great
victories would not be won before I joined my regiment. I had not yet
been able to console myself for the ill-fortune that prevented me from
starting with the squadrons of the first line. And yet I had to submit to
regulations. The colonel was inflexible, and answered my entreaties by
quoting the inexorable rule: In every cavalry regiment the sixth

lieutenant in order of seniority must stay at the depôt to help the major
and the captain of the 5th squadron. They must assemble, equip, and
train the reserve squadrons of the regiment.
I shall never forget what those days were to me. Days of overwhelming
work, when, in a tropical heat, I was busy from sunrise to sunset,
entering the names of thousands of men, registering the horses, giving
certificates, and providing food for the lot. It needed some skill to find
billets for them all; the horses were lodged in stables, riding
establishments and yards, the men in every corner and nook of the vast
district. It was tiresome work, and would have been almost impossible
but for the general goodwill and admirable discipline. But all the time I
was thinking of the fellows away in Belgium boldly reconnoitring the
masses of Germans and coming into contact with the enemy.
At last, at eleven o'clock on the 28th of August, the colonel's telegram
came ordering me to go at once and replace my young friend,
Second-Lieutenant de C., seriously wounded whilst reconnoitring. At
six o'clock in the evening I had packed my food, strapped on my kit,
and got my horses into the train. I set off with a light heart, and my
fellow-officers of the Reserve and of the Territorials, who were still at
the depôt, came to see me off.
But how slowly the train travelled, and what a long way off our little
garrison town in the west seemed to me when I thought of the firing
line out towards the north! I made up my mind to try to imitate my
faithful Wattrelot, who had been snoring in peace for ever so long. I
stretched myself on the golden straw and waited impatiently for the
dawn, dozing and dreaming.
At about eight o'clock in the morning the train stopped at the
concentration station of N. What a crowd, and yet what order and
precision in this formidable traffic! All the commissariat trains for the
army muster here before being sent off to different parts of the Front.
The numerous sidings were all covered with long rows of trucks. In
every direction engines getting up steam were panting and puffing. In
the middle of this hurly-burly men were on the move, some of them
calm, jaded and patient. These were the railwaymen, who went about in

a business-like way, pushing railway vans, counting packages, carrying
papers, checking lists, and giving information politely and willingly.
The rest were soldiers,