The Debacle - Emile Zola [41]
The sun came out again almost at once, a glorious sun on this hot August morning. And cheerfulness returned; the men were like a line of washing hanging out in the open air, and very soon they were dry, like muddy dogs fished out of a pond, joking about the festoons of caked mud they were carrying on their red trousers. There was a fresh halt at every road junction. At the last outlying houses of Rheims there was a final halt in front of a pub which was doing a roaring trade.
Maurice thought he would treat the squad, by way of wishing them all good luck.
‘Do you mind, corporal?’
Jean hesitated a moment and then accepted a glass. Loubet and Chouteau were there too, the latter now all obsequious since the corporal had made himself felt, and also Pache and Lapoulle, both good types so long as you didn’t get across them.
‘Here’s to your very good health, corporal,’ said Chouteau in smarmy tones.
‘And to you, and we must all try to bring back our heads and our feet,’ answered Jean politely, and everyone laughed in agreement.
But they were off again and Captain Beaudoin came by with a shocked air, while Rochas looked the other way, for he was indulgent towards his men’s thirsts. Already they were out on the Châlons road, an endless, tree-lined ribbon running straight ahead across the vast plain – interminable cornfields, broken here and there by big hayricks and wooden windmills turning their sails. Further northwards lines of telegraph poles marked other roads where they could make out the dark columns of other regiments on the march. There were even quite a few cutting straight across the fields in dense masses. Ahead to the left a brigade of cavalry was trotting along in the dazzling sun. The whole great featureless horizon, empty, depressing and limitless, was coming to life and peopling itself with streams of men pouring from all sides, like continuous runs from some gigantic anthill.
By about nine the 106th left the Châlons road and took the one to Suippes, on the left, another straight ribbon going on for ever. They marched in two files with a space between, leaving the middle of the road clear. Only officers used that, as they wished, and Maurice noticed their worried look, which contrasted with the good humour and contented jollity of the soldiers, who were as happy as children to be on the move at last. As the squad was almost at the head he even had a distant glimpse of the colonel, Monsieur de Vineuil, and was struck by his despondent look as his tall and stiff figure swayed gently with his horse’s step. The band had been left in the rear, together with the regimental kitchens. Then with the division came the ambulances and equipment, followed by the supply column of the whole corps – an immense convoy, forage waggons, covered vans for provisions, carts for baggage – a procession of vehicles of all kinds more than five kilometres long, the endless tail of which could be seen at the rare bends of the road. And finally at the very end of the column the livestock brought up the rear, a ragged herd of huge oxen tramping along the road in a cloud of dust, the meat, still alive and whipped along, for a migrating tribe of warriors.