the whole line.

There was nothing in any way remarkable about the little town on the
other side of the river. It had the air of a neglected gutter-child,
dirty and disconsolate. There were the usual signs of German
occupation--broken windows, ravaged shops, and, of course, the
inevitable bottles.

Here it was that the Subaltern noticed for the first time that the Huns
had a distinctive smell of their own. It was a curious smell, completely
baffling description. If it is true that certain odours suggest certain
colours, one would have described this as a brown smell, preferably a
reddish-brown smell. Certain it was that the enemy left it behind him
wherever he had been, as sure a clue to his passing as broken
wine-bottles!

The Subaltern always associates the climbing of the opposite slope with
pangs of a thirst so intense that he almost forgot to wonder why the
Germans had evacuated so excellent a position without firing a single
shot. But Headquarters were evidently not going to allow them to push
forward into some previously arranged trap. Having by three o'clock in
the afternoon firmly established themselves on the wooded crests of the
slope, they were "pulled up" while a further reconnaissance was being
made. Meanwhile, a sort of outpost position was taken up.

The Subaltern's Platoon was to guard the back edge of a wood, and as he
established his supports in a farm, most of his men were able to fill
their water-bottles, have a wash and brush up, and generally prepare
themselves for whatever the next move might be. The farmer and his
wife, who had remained in their home, did everything that was required