Being in bad odor with my captain, I did not
report to him. The sergeant, Bacarret, an



CHAMPAGNE ATTACK 147

Alsatian with German manners, I never ad-
dressed unless compelled to by military neces-
sity. So I told the Parisian bootblack corporal
what I had seen.
. Going on picket again, the corporal and the
retiring sentinel dragged the body down the
hill and I watched him as he artistically frisked
it. First, he deftly transferred a roll of bills
from the dead man's vest to his own, then took
his purse, knife, maps, letters, etc., and, open-
ing the purse, he said, "Look what he had, I am
going to take this money to the captain." There
was one five franc piece, also some small
change. The letters he left on the ground. I
picked them up and read the contents, which
showed they were from his wife, written from
his home at Rheims.
Coming off picket, we were ordered to change
positions. We marched all night. Our feet
through not having shoes off for seventeen
days, at first numb, soon burned and pricked as
the blood commenced to circulate. Many men
fell out of ranks. Those who did not were so
tired and used up they did not fill up the sets of
fours as their comrades dropped out.
148 SOLDIERS OF THE LEGION

I was in the rear rank of the first set of fours
and marched behind the bootblack corporaL
He was a gritty little fellow and carried a knap-
sack so large that his head could not be seen
from behind. He fell out several times, but
pushed himself up in spite of the men, who
would not budge or get out of the way, — for
every step counts in a long march.
