_Poilus_ go and come along the thoroughfare. There is a great bustle in
the village. The Argonne is the only interesting sector at this moment.
"Pretty hot up there?"
"I should say! Just came out of it!"
"Did you advance?"
"Yes. They attacked in mass formation, shouting 'St. Menehoulde--St.
Menehoulde!'"
"You replied?"
"Pigs' feet! Pigs' feet! and we ate 'em up, lieutenant!"[8]
AN EPISODE IN MINING WARFARE,
MALANCOURT WOOD.
_July_ 7, 1915.
We arrived yesterday afternoon toward dusk, in an automobile, and in
full view of the enemy.
General de Salins, who commanded the Brigade, found us at this moment
on the edge of the wood and could not believe his eyes--Guéneau and
I were bumping along, making very slow progress on account of the
numerous shell-holes along the road made during the last bombardment.
What a magnificent afternoon! At this time of the year, Malancourt Wood
is an exquisite sight. The lengthening rays of the sun easily penetrate
the green foliage of the trees that completely surround us.
This sector had been active enough before, when the enemy for the first
time attacked with flame-throwers. After that, save for the days when
mines were exploded, the wood became one of the most quiet spots on the
front.
We are heartily received by our sapper-comrades.
At night we all go together into the first-line trench, where there are
but few soldiers. It is very black without. Not a rifle shot, not the
sound of a cannon. What a difference from the sector in Flanders!
We leave the trench and go over, crouching, into No Man's Land,
advancing with great precaution through the tall grass. When a rocket
flares from our lines or those of the enemy, we flatten with our faces
to the ground and remain without the slightest movement. Then we
advance again, holding our breath. Finally we arrive at the enemy's
barbed wire entanglements and hear them talking in their trenches.
I am close to Guéneau, who listens attentively while I murmur in his
ear:
"Old chap, yesterday at this time we were drinking a whisky and soda on
the boulevard."
* * * * *
We pass the night in a shelter placed at our disposal by Major Jouanic.
We must assist in the early morning at the explosion of a mine under an
enemy listening post.
We choose our time and it is yet night when we start out. Hardly awake,
we look more like a hunting party: nearly all the sappers preceding us
in the communicating trench are carrying clubs and might be taken for
beaters.
Arriving soon at the first line, each takes the place that has been
assigned. I look at my watch--the mine will be exploded at four o'clock.
It is near the edge of the wood and I gaze into the open stretch on
my right. The sky is turning a deep rose and the birds are singing,
as they sing at the break of a beautiful summer's day. All else is
asleep in our corner of the earth, and for us who know, this silence is
impressive----