vember. We had no work to do and wandered
restlessly round the town. An official communique was posted up outside
the Mairie, but it contained nothing new. There was a crowd of soldiers
round a Belgian boy who was selling English papers. We bought the last
copies, but they were of the previous Thursday and did not add to our
knowledge. The suspense was becoming unbearable. My conviction that the
Germans would reject the terms of the Allies was shaken--not by any
further evidence, but by the general atmosphere of excitement and
hopeful expectation which communicated itself to me. I kept on repeating
to myself, "They will not sign, they will not sign," and intellectually
I believed my own words. And yet I was continually imagining the war
already over and what I merely thought seemed unessential and
irrelevant. The stress of wild hopes and mental agitation became almost
a physical pain.

Darkness came on and we retired to our tents. I gradually became aware
of a faint noise, so faint that I hardly knew whether it was real or
not. As soon as I listened intently I could hear nothing. Then one of us
said: "What's that funny noise?" There it was again, a low, hollow sound
like that of a distant sea. It grew louder and then ceased. Then it
became audible once more and grew louder and still louder. Suddenly we
realized what it was--it was the sound of cheering. It came nearer and
nearer, gathering speed. It flooded the whole town with a great rush,
paused a moment, and then burst over our camp.

Everybody went mad. The men rushed out of the tents and shouted: "It's
over--it's over--it's over!" I could hear one shrill voice screaming
wildly: "No more bombs--no more shells--no more misery." The deafening
clamour from innumerable throats was topped by the piercing blasts of
whistles and the howling of catcalls. A huge bonfire was lit in the camp
and sheets of flame shot skyward. The brilliant stars of signal-rockets
rose and fell in tall parabolae and lit up all the neighbourhood. The
Sergeant-Major blew his whistle with the intention of restoring order.
He was answered by a hullabaloo of derisive hoots and yells. He gave up
the attempt and instead he headed a procession that marched into the
town, banging empty tins and whirling trench-rattles. An anti-aircraft
battery opened fire with blank charges. Aeroplanes flew overhead with
all lights on.

Many of us went back into our tents and sang with all the power of our
lungs.

S