I remarked that it would be very interesting to get a sight of what was going on behind the station.

“Is it very near—­the battle?”

“About five kilometers, Monsieur.  The German guns are ten kilometers distant.  One of the German shells exploded behind the station this morning.  Would Monsieur like to walk out a little way?”

“But surely the pickets will not let me pass beyond the barrier,” said I.

My good friend of the auto-mitrailleuse smiled, rose, and buttoned up his coat.  “Come with me,” he invited.

At the barrier we were stopped, but luck had not deserted me, for in the Sergeant in charge of the pickets I recognized another cafe acquaintance of the previous night.  We shook hands, exchanged cigarettes, and proceeded up and down numerous streets, bearing always southward in the direction of the firing, until the open country was reached.

My companion suddenly caught hold of my arm and we both jumped up the bank at the side of the road to let a long string of artillery drivers trot past on their way back for more ammunition.  Another cloud of dust, and coming up behind us was a fresh lot of shells on the way out to the firing line.

Right up in the sky ahead suddenly appeared a ball of yellow greeny smoke, which grew bigger and bigger, and then “boom” came the sound of a gun about three seconds afterward.  A shell had burst in the air about 300 yards away.  Another and another came—­all about the same place.  They appeared to come from the direction of Bapaume.

“Bad, very bad,” commented my companion.  And so it appeared to me, for the Germans were dropping their shells from the southeast, at least one kilometer over range.  We were standing beside a strawstack and looking due south, watching the just discernible line of French guns, when we heard the ominous whistling screech of an approaching shell.  Down on our faces behind the stack, down we went like lightning, and over to the left, not 200 yards away, rose a huge column of black smoke and earth, and just afterward a very loud boom.  A big German gun had come into action, slightly nearer this time.

Just behind a wood I could plainly see the smoke of the gun itself rising above the trees.  Two more shells from the big gun exploded within twenty yards of each other, and then, with disconcerting suddenness, a French battery came into action within a hundred yards of our strawstack cover.  They had evidently been there for some time, awaiting eventualities, for we had no suspicion of their proximity, and they were completely hidden.

My ears are still tingling and buzzing from the sound of those guns.  One after another the guns of this battery bombarded the newly taken up position of the German big guns, which replied with one shell every three minutes.

Presently we had the satisfaction of hearing a violent explosion in the wood, and a column of smoke and flame rose up to a great height.