detonations, and the gusts of wind had a more
menacing volubility.
At every turning we found a machine gun emplacement. Directly in front of it was suspended, at approximately the height of a man, a great globe twined of barbed wire, ready to be lowered in the event of an enemy invasion of the trench.
"While they are getting rid of that," our officer said, "the machine gun attends to their little affair."
We came to trenches marked:
"Boyau de la deuxième ligne."
The poilus we met didn't speak above a whisper. We were aware of an empty road winding along the surface of the earth. A flight of steps led upward. It was nearly barred by a huge sign which forbade pedestrians to use the road under the severest penalties.
“You mean to say," I asked, "that soldiers have to be threatened from that exposed place?"
"The communication trench, as you can see, he answered, "is very warm. The men prefer comfort and the German fire. We were losing too many through such foolishness. Even now it is difficult on a warm day to keep them in the communication lines.”
We passed frequent broad lights of steps.
