Paths of Glory by Humphrey Cobb Page A

sky. They felt as if they were crawling on its base; actually they were about three or four hundred metres from it.
    Roget belched.
    Instantly a flare went off, so close it seemed as if they had fired it themselves. A machine gun started to rattle, and they lay still as death, pressing themselves into the unyielding earth. The flare burst right over them, the machine gun was firing over them too, and they felt huge and naked on a naked plane. They held their breaths and their minds were emptied of all thought.
    The flare went out and the machine gun, after two or three more bursts, stopped firing. Didier could hear a little bunch of shells travelling by quietly, high overhead.
    The German wire began to bulge and to force them over in the direction of their own line. They crossed a series of shell-holes linked by shallow trenches. The earth seemed quite fresh to Didier, and he wondered if Roget had noticed it. A little farther on, they came to an area thick with French corpses. The smell was nauseating. Roget started belching again, speeding up his pace, going forward heedless of the noise he was making and reckless of the danger he might be running into.
    Didier started to close in on him from his flank position and succeeded in catching him by the leg.
    â€œName of God! Don’t do that!” It was almost a shriek.
    â€œAnother sound out of you, and I’ll kill you,” Didier whispered.
    â€œWell, don’t sneak up on me like that then. It’s enough to make anybody jump out of his skin. Hurry up and get me away from these bodies. I’m going to be sick.”
    â€œGo ahead and vomit, you swine, and be quiet about it. We’re right in front of a strong point here.”
    There was a low gurgling sound while Roget gave up his cognac and spread it in a puddle under his nose.
    â€œCome over in this direction,” said Didier.
    They drew away from the bulging German wire and moved out towards the centre of no-man’s-land. They gathered for a while in a shell-hole to take stock of things and to give Roget a chance to pull himself together. Then they went on again, in V formation, Didier on the lieutenant’s left now, Lejeune on his right. Roget’s feeling of immunity had flowed out of him soon after the flowing out of his liquor. He now had an imperious need to be done with the patrol and to get back to the safety of his own dugout. His sense of well-being had evaporated, leaving him defenceless and afraid in a hostile world. His nerves came to life again from their alcoholic anæsthesia. They were jumpy and hard to control.
    A large mound of what looked like kindling wood appeared in front of them. Roget turned and threw lumps of earth at his companions, the signal to close in. They lay on their stomachs and put their heads together. Roget’s breath was sour.
    â€œWhat d’you make of that?” he asked Didier.
    â€œRuins of some houses.”
    â€œAll right, then, Lejeune, you work around the right of the pile. Didier will come with me on the left. We’ll meet on the other side.”
    â€œNot on your life,” said Didier. “Split a patrol? You’re crazy!”
    â€œShut up. Do as you’re told, Lejeune.”
    â€œDon’t do it, Paul, it’s madness.”
    Roget turned his wrist slightly and Didier found himself looking into the muzzle of the lieutenant’s gun. Lejeune saw the movement too and checked a remark he was on the point of making. He searched for Didier’s eyes, the question he wanted to ask him plainly to be seen in his expression. Didier, however, was staring down the barrel of the revolver, his own weapon uselessly pointing away from under his left armpit. Lejeune was baffled. He decided the safest way out of the dilemma would be to obey. He started to crawl off to the right of the mound.
    When Roget could no longer hear Lejeune, he dropped the aim of his gun and smiled—an unpleasant smile—then started off