G. had gone to take the watch on which the junior officers of the units defending the sector relieved each other every three hours.  So there I was alone, alone in the midst of my brave Chasseurs, with the duty of guarding those five hundred yards of trenches—­a very small piece at that time of the immense French line.  Behind us thousands of our fellows were sleeping in perfect confidence, relying upon the thin rampart we formed in front of them; and farther away still there were millions of Frenchmen and Frenchwomen, who, under their family roof or under that of their hosts, were resting in peace because of our sleepless nights, our limbs stiffened by the cold, our carbines pointed through the loopholes of the trenches.

Thus were we to celebrate the merry festival of Christmas.  There was no doubt that far away among those who were keeping the sacred vigil more than one would think of us and sympathise with us....  No doubt many a one among us would feel a touch of sadness that evening, thinking of his home.  But none, not one, I felt sure, would wish to quit his post to get away from the Front.  Military honour! glorious legacy of our ancestors!  Who could have foreseen that it would be implanted so naturally and so easily in the young souls of our soldiers?  Within their youthful bodies the same hearts were already beating as those of the immortal veterans of the epic days of France.  Men are fashioned by war.

Ten o’clock came on Christmas Eve to find that our day had passed in almost absolute calm.  It had been a glorious winter day, a day of bright sunshine and pure clear air.  The Germans had hardly fired at all.  A few cannon-shots only had replied to our artillery, which let off its heavy guns every now and then upon their positions from the heights behind us.

And then night came.  B. and I had just finished our frugal meal.  We had promised to pay a visit to the Territorials who occupied the trenches right and left of ours.  Our Chasseurs had been posted in that particular section so that in case of attack they might form a solid base for the Territorials to rely upon.  They did not conceal their confidence in our men or their admiration for them; and their officers had no scruples in asking for our advice when difficult cases arose.  In fact, that very afternoon the captain commanding the company to our right had come to my dug-out to arrange with me about the patrols that had to be sent that night in advance of the line.

Wrapped in our cloaks, we came out of our warm retreat.  The night was just like the previous one, starlit, bright, and frosty, a true Christmas night for times of peace.  In our trenches one half of the men were awake, in obedience to orders.  Carbines were loaded and placed in the loopholes, and the guns were trained upon the enemy.  In front of us, at the end of the narrow passages which led out to the listening posts, I knew that our sentries were alert with eye and ear, crouching in their holes in pairs.  No one could approach the broad network of wire which protected us without being immediately perceived and shot.  At the bottom of the trenches the men on watch were talking softly together and stamping on the ground to combat the intense cold.