idable uproar, above
which rose thousands of voices shouting:

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Cavalry! Cavalry!"

Then, dominating the tumult, we heard their trumpets sounding the
short, monotonous notes of the Prussian charge.

I leaped back into the trench.

"Independent fire!"

The whole French line burst into a violent and deafening fusillade.
Each man seemed full of blind rage, of an exasperated lust for
destruction. I saw them take aim rapidly, press the trigger, and
reload in feverish haste. I was deafened and bewildered by the
terrible noise of the firing in the narrow confines of the trench. To
our left, the machine-gun section of my friend F. kept up an infernal
racket.

But the German line had suddenly dropped to the ground. I could barely
distinguish a swarm of grey shadows running about in the fog. Then not
a single dark figure was visible on the pale background of the tragic
scene. How many of the bodies we could no longer make out must have
been lying lifeless, and how horrible their proximity must have been
to the living stretched side by side with them!

Our men had ceased firing of their own accord, and a strange silence
had succeeded to the deafening din. What was about to happen? Would
they dare to come on again? We hoped so with all our hearts, for we
felt that if we could keep our men in hand, and prevent them from
firing at random, the enemy could never get at us. But, above all, it
was essential to economise our ammunition, for if we were short of
cartridges, what resistance could we offer to a bayonet charge with
our little carbines reduced to silence?

The Germans must have been severely shaken, for they seemed afraid to
resume the attack. Nothing was moving in the bare plain that stretched
before us. During this respite an order came from the officer in
command, passing from mouth to mouth:

"Hand it on: No firing without the word of command."

Then silence fell on our trenches, heavy and complete as on the
landscape before us. Suddenly, on the place where the enemy's riflemen
had thrown themselves on the ground, we saw a slim shadow rise and
stand. The man had got up quietly, as if no danger threatened him.
And, in spite of everything, it was impossible not to admire the
gallantry of his act. He stood motionless for a second, leaning on his
sword or a stick; then he raised his arm slowly, and a hoarse voice
yelled:

"_Auf!_" [Up!]

Other voices repeated the word of