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The men move slowly now, leaning forward as if striding into the windHe is fascinated by the sluggishness of it all, the lethargy with which they advance and fallThere seems no pattern to the attack, no volition to the men; they advance in every direction like floating leaves in a
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Through the field glasses he watches one soldier run forward, plunge his head toward the mud, stand up and run againIt is like watching a crowd from a high window or separating a puppy from the rest of the wriggling brood in a pet-store windowThere is an oddness, an unreality, in realizing that the group is made up of units
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They're at the German trenches, someone shouts
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The German artillery is beginning to fall on the newly taken trenches, and columns of men advance slowly through the dusk over the quiet field, circling around the dead men, and filing into the German trenchesIt is almost dark, and the sky has assumed a rosy wash in the east where a house is burningHe cannot see through his field glasses any longer, and he puts them down, stares across the field with a silent wonderIt looks
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What'd you think of it? The Colonel nudges himBut he cannot find the wordsIt has been too immense, too shatteringThe long dry battles of the textbooks come alive for him, mass themselves in his mindHe can only think of the man who has ordered the attack, and he pictures him with
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