fellow-officers of the Reserve and of the Territorials, who were still
at the depôt, came to see me off.

But how slowly the train travelled, and what a long way off our little
garrison town in the west seemed to me when I thought of the firing
line out towards the north! I made up my mind to try to imitate my
faithful Wattrelot, who had been snoring in peace for ever so long. I
stretched myself on the golden straw and waited impatiently for the
dawn, dozing and dreaming.

At about eight o'clock in the morning the train stopped at the
concentration station of N. What a crowd, and yet what order and
precision in this formidable traffic! All the commissariat trains for
the army muster here before being sent off to different parts of the
Front. The numerous sidings were all covered with long rows of trucks.
In every direction engines getting up steam were panting and puffing.
In the middle of this hurly-burly men were on the move, some of them
calm, jaded and patient. These were the railwaymen, who went about in
a business-like way, pushing railway vans, counting packages, carrying
papers, checking lists, and giving information politely and willingly.
The rest were soldiers, lost, bewildered in the midst of this
entanglement of lines which seemed inextricable. They were asking each
other questions, swearing, laughing, protesting, and then they got
into a train and were promptly hauled out and sent to another. But,
with all this, there was no disorder, no lack of discipline.
Everywhere the same admirable composure reigned that I had already
noticed at the station of my little garrison town.

With Wattrelot's help, I tidied myself up for a visit to the military
authorities of the station. After many difficulties, and after passing