CHAPTER XXVIII

IN RESERVE AT SOUVIR

He hurried on, for morning would break in half-an-hour, and he did not wish to be caught in that unwholesome hundred yards the other side of the canal bridge.  He overtook his men sooner than he expected, and the open space was passed without any resistance.

“They’re probably expecting a big attack at dawn, and they’ve brought us up in reserve again,” some one said.

Sure enough, the attack took place, but, like its predecessor, it failed, and they naturally expected to be sent back to the trenches at Poussey.  In this, however, they were disappointed.  Dawn having broken, it was apparently thought to be needlessly imprudent to make the Battalion run the gauntlet once again.  So they were allowed to stay where they were, with the caution that they were to be ready to move within five minutes of the Colonel’s receipt of the order.  It may sound a long time, but only a smart and efficient Battalion can do it.  The Adjutant has to open and acquaint the C.O. of the order.  He has to rap out his own orders.  Sleeping men have to be roused, equipment thrown on, arms taken up.  The men have to “fall in” in their right sections; have to be numbered, have to form fours.  If there is any muddle whatever, a Battalion cannot move off in five minutes.

They slept propped up against the bank for some hours; then they were moved further up the road into the little village of Souvir.  It appeared that their new role was to act as Local Reserve, and that they could amuse themselves how they liked as long as they were prepared “to move off at fifteen minutes’ notice.”

The men broke into two big barns and made themselves tolerably comfortable.  They lit little fires in the road and began to cook their breakfasts.  The Officers of the Company billeted themselves on the hovel nearest the barns and set about the same object.

“I think,” mused the Senior Subaltern, “that it would be an excellent idea if some of us went on a foraging expedition.  I should not be at all surprised if we did not have to stop here for weeks.  And there may be one or two things to be picked up—­before the others.”

So two of them went off on a tour of inspection.  Noticing bee-hives outside the house of the village priest, they went in and bought two large jars of liquid honey.  An estaminet yielded a couple of bottles of Medoc, and a patisserie, most unexpectedly, some bread.

Having successfully settled their business, there was time to look around.  Souvir was a bigger village than Poussey, and seemed to be teeming with troops, who looked as if they had been used to the place for years, and were likely to remain in it longer.  The first object of interest was the church, which had been turned into a hospital for Germans, many of whom were sitting about on benches in the stone-flagged courtyard.  The two Officers went in to have a closer look at them.  The majority were so greyish pale, their hair such unlovely stubble, their temples so shrunken that the Subaltern pitied them in their morose dejection and slow-witted taciturnity.