CHAPTER X

A PAUSE, AND MORE MARCHING

A village called Amigny was reached at about six o’clock in the evening, and here the Battalion, in its usual evening state of prostration, was billeted.

The Company settled down in the chief “estaminet” of the place.  The decision was a faulty one.  The old woman who was hostess gave way to hysterics at the thought of having to provide for five large, hungry and nervous officers.  She was a horrid old woman—­mean, dirty, and if the Captain’s word could be taken as strict truth, immoral.  Still, a roof to cover their heads was an unusual blessing, and it was not long before they were all sound asleep.

Next morning there was no parade in the grey of dawn.  As the first chilly beam of light crept into the room the Subaltern turned in his sleep, and smiled at the complete luxury of prolonged rest.  They did not get up till eight, and having dressed, washed, and even shaved, they had what the “hostess” called breakfast.  And still nothing happened, no breathless orderly delivered the usual order.  What had happened?

The Senior Subaltern, who was suspected of leanings towards matrimony, began to write a letter.

The Captain, who was energetic, began to play billiards on the miniature pocketless table.  Later on the Colonel came in.  It was not an official visit, only to warn them to be ready to move at any moment.  Having thanked the old woman, he left in a singularly peaceful frame of mind.

At half-past twelve they moved on to a small hill just outside the village, which they proceeded to put into a state of defence.  They heard that afternoon of a large counter-attack launched in the neighbourhood of Guise, which had been successful in temporarily relieving the pressure on the British Front.  Here it was that they first heard rumours of the affair off Heligoland, which had become inflated into a tremendous victory for the British Fleet.  Apparently half the German Fleet had been sent to the bottom of the sea, and you can imagine the state of enthusiasm that was caused by this news.  They felt that, no matter what might happen to them on the battlefields of France, their homes at any rate were freed from the menace of the German.  To add to their jubilation, instead of having to spend the night in the trenches they had dug, they were marched back, for some inexplicable reason, to their billets in the village.

Next morning they paraded as soon as it was light, and the retreat was continued throughout the day.

There was a very marked change in the country.  The open cornfields were replaced by woods of such a dense nature that any operations would have been impossible.  Curious as it may seem, the Subaltern had in some way been upset by the previous day’s break in the usual marching routine.  The heat seemed more intense than ever; his haversack and equipment more cumbersome.  But the roads were now avenues, and the overhanging branches provided very welcome shade.