But all of a sudden paf! paf!  The four players had thrown down their cards, and we all looked at each other without a word.  Suddenly we had just heard above us that strange and indefinable crackle made by bullets fired at close range as they tear through the air just above one.  No doubt was possible; something extraordinary was happening near the trenches, for the crackling increased mightily, and hundreds and hundreds of bullets began to whistle round us.  F. sent the table rolling to the other end of the room with a kick, and we all rushed out after the Major.

There is no more depressing moment in warfare than when one finds oneself exposed to violent fire from the enemy without being able to see whence it comes, or what troops are firing, and what is its objective.  Obviously the attack was not directed against us, for between the trenches and the houses where we were there was a thick wood which entirely concealed us from the sight of the enemy.  But on the other hand the shots could not have been fired from the trenches the Germans had hitherto occupied opposite us, for had they been the bullets must have passed high over our heads, and we should have heard only the characteristic whistle of shots fired at long range.

For a moment, only a moment, we were full of dread.  What had happened?  What had become of the comrades who were in the firing-line?  Grouped together in the little enclosure bordered with quick-set hedges where there were still traces of what had been the kitchen-garden of our farm, we strained our eyes to see without uttering a word.  In front of us was the dark line of the wood.  We scrutinised it sharply, this silent mass of trees and bushes on which autumn had already laid the most splendid colours of its palette.  In spite of the dull light, what an admirable background it made to the melancholy picture of the devastated landscape!  First, quite close to the ground, was a tangle of bushes and brambles, its russet foliage forming a kind of impenetrable screen, which, in bright sunshine, would have been a curtain of purple and gold.  Then, pointing up into the misty sky, came the denuded trunks of the trees, surrounded by a maze of myriads of delicate branches, their ramifications stretching a violet-tinted veil across the sky.  In spite of the tragic present I could not but admire the marvellous setting Nature offered for the drama in which we were destined to be the actors.

The bullets continued their infernal music, whistling in thousands over our heads.  At the same time the fire of the German mortars redoubled in intensity, and their great “coal-boxes” (big shells) burst with a deafening din a few hundred yards behind us, seeking to silence our guns.  These, concealed in a hollow, answered vigorously.

But what did it all mean?  What was happening?  We longed to shout, to call, to implore some one to answer us, to tell us what had been taking place behind the thick curtain of the wood.  But the curtain remained impenetrable.