We advanced towards the guns at the _pas de gymnastique_ and reached
them without mishap. Some were too shattered by the recent bombardment
to be of any further use, but others were still intact, and these, as
it was difficult if not impossible for us to get them away in a retreat
over a hilly wooded country, we determined to destroy. Ordering some
of my men to do what was necessary, and as rapidly as possible, the
others and I kept a sharp look-out. The enemy gave not a sign of life.
The fuses having been attached to the breeches of the guns and lit,
we began to retire whither we had come, but had hardly gone more than
fifty yards, and heard the successive explosions of the guns blowing
up, when, on looking over my shoulder, I saw a body of Germans emerge
at a run from a coppice about two hundred yards to our right, and heard
them open fire upon us. At the same time I felt a sharp, burning pain
in my side; a curious sensation of intense weakness filled my being;
and, with a vision of men falling to the ground with extended arms, I,
too, bowed down, unconscious, to Mother Earth.
That night, as I afterwards learnt, I was posted as "dead on the field
of honour." After eleven hours of oblivion, I came to myself in a
German ambulance. My first impression on recovering consciousness was
that of hearing the gruff, peremptory voice of a German Herr Doktor at
my bedside; my second, when he had passed on to another sufferer, that
of seeing a sweet French face bending over me.
"Where am I?" I asked.
"Hush! the doctor says you must speak as little as possible," replied
the nurse, in a French which I at once detected to be that of an
educated person. "I will tell you all that you need know for the
present. You are in our little ambulance at Erquelinnes, on the
frontier between Belgium and France--a German ambulance. But fear
not"--this in a lower voice--"my country is France, and I am not
without influence, or I should not be here. Your wound, though serious,
will get well in time. Only you must be _sage_, and obey me. There,
now! _Cela suffit!_ Try to get a little more sleep; the more rest you
have the better."
It needed but the invitation, the sound of her soothing voice, like
that of a tender mother speaking to her child, and especially those
singularly calming words: "Fear not--my country is France," which
seemed to wrap me within the protective folds of the tricolour, to
send me back once more into that state of semi-unconsciousness which
appears to transport one to the borderline between life and death. Loss
of blood during those many hours while I had lain forgotten on the
battlefield had, indeed, brought me to so weak a condition that, as
my benefactress told me later, the doctor had hardly expected to pull
me through. My wound was one of those which have been encountered so
often in this war; it exhibited the curious vagaries of which bullets
are capable. The projectile entered my right side, travelled along a
downward, curved path, and, avoiding any of the vital organs, came out
at the other side. A millimetre to right or left, and it might have
either killed or paralyzed me. As it was, the injury and loss of blood
were serious, and could only be repaired by many weeks of immobility,
coupled with skilled medical aid (and I must do the Herr Doktor the
justice of recognizing that he was highly capable) and the devoted
attention of my nurse. Ah! kindly benefactress of the ambulance of
Erquelinnes, know, should you ever read my words, that I can never
thank you enough for all you did for me. To have shown my gratitude
too openly amidst the surroundings where your lot was cast--under what
circumstances I have often tried to imagine--would have betrayed you.
But, knowing how one French heart can understand another without the
passing of words, I doubt not that you have long since comprehended the
gratitude of the soldier of the Republic whom you befriended and saved.