This fulmination was interrupted by shouts of “Shut up” and “’Old yer jaw” and “Put a sock in it” and “Let’s get a bit o’ sleep,” but there was no chance of further sleep.  The air was heavy with the rank smell of stale tobacco.  Several men lit cigarettes and the ends glowed in the darkness, each one illuminating a face as the smoke was drawn in.  Someone lit a candle and the bright flame dazzled us at first.  Another man got up and threw immense black shadows.  The recesses of the tent were full of murky gloom.

“Have a look what the weather’s like!”

I raised the flap and peered into the outer darkness.  A cold gust of wind blew in carrying several snowflakes with it.

“It’s snowing!”

“Jesus Christ, another day o’ misery afore us—­when will this life end!”

I began to dress.  I picked up my towel and soap and loosened the flap once again.  I felt I had to go out and wash, for I had not washed at all on the previous day, fearing the dirty, freezing water and the piercing wind.  I longed to remain in the warm tent, and for a moment I wavered.  Then, with an effort of the will I suppressed the strong temptation, and squeezing through the tent-opening, I stepped out into the oozy mud.  The black night seemed to weigh heavily on the world.  Only here and there dull glimmering blurs showed that candles were burning in the other tents.

An icy wind was blowing round me.  I was in my shirt sleeves and regretted not having thrown my great-coat over my shoulders.  The cold made me contract my muscles and draw my breath in sharply between my teeth.  I felt the snowflakes beat gently against my face.  I folded my arms across my chest and found a little protection from the gusts that seemed to pierce me.  My left foot had sunk deeply into the slush.  I pawed the mud with my right in order to find the duckboard.  I touched the edge and stepped firmly upon it.  With an effort I dragged the other foot from the slush.  It came out with a loud, sucking squelch, but I felt it was leaving my boot behind.  I let it sink back again and then freed it with a twist of the ankle.

I could not see the duckboard in the dense gloom.  I walked along it carefully, feeling the edge from time to time.  I heard a rapid step behind me—­another man was going to wash; he must have grown accustomed to the darkness, for he walked along without hesitation.  He slowed down as he approached me.  I tried to go faster, but trod on the extreme edge of the boards.  I had to stop for a moment and the man behind me became impatient and shouted: 

“Get a bloody move on, for Christ’s sake.  It’s too cold to wait out here in this weather.”