my arm, behind a good dog, in quest of partridges or a hare. But I had
other game in view--no doubt more dangerous, but how much more
exciting!

The air was wonderfully clear, without the least trace of mist. The
smallest detail of hedge and ditch could be easily distinguished. Our
lungs breathed freely. We foresaw that the heat would be oppressive in
a few hours' time, but the fresh air of the night still lingered, and
bright pearls of dew still lay on the lucerne and stubble. What a joy
to be alive in such delicious surroundings, with the hope of victory
in one's heart!

I fancy that those who have not been in this war will not be able to
understand me, for I have not the skill to explain clearly what I feel
by means of written words. A more practised pen than mine is needed
for such a task, a mind more accustomed to analyse feelings.

I seem to have within me the inspiration of a strange power that makes
me light as air, and inclined to talk aloud to myself. And if I wanted
to speak I certainly should not find the words I wanted. Perhaps it is
that I simply want to shout, to cry "Hurrah!" again and again. It must
be that, for I find myself clenching my teeth instinctively to prevent
myself from giving way to such an untimely outburst.

Nevertheless, it would be a relief to be able to shout at the top of
my voice and sing hymns of glory confronting the enemy. I should like
to hear the whole army following my example behind me, to hear all the
bands and all the trumpets accompanying our advance with those
matchless war-songs which thrill the soul and bring tears to the eyes.