advantage. I was too tired to reply.

Grimers, who cannot see well at night, was terrified when he had to take
a despatch through the forest. He rode with a loaded revolver in one
hand, and was only saved from shooting a wretched transport officer by a
wild cry, "For God's sake, look what you're doing."

The eldest Cecil reported a distinct smell of dead horses at the obelisk
in the forest. At least he rather thought they were dead donkeys. The
smell was a little different--more acrid and unpleasant. We told him
that there were eight dead Germans piled at the side of the road, and we
reminded him that it had been a sweltering day.

We were terribly tired in the morning. Spuggy, George, and Orr went off
to Paris for new bicycles, and we were left short-handed again. Another
tropical day.

The Skipper rode the spare bike with great dash, the elder Cecil and I
attendant. We sprinted along a good straight road to the cobbled,
crowded little town of Faremoutiers. Then we decided to advance to
Mouroux, our proposed headquarters. It was a haggard village, just off
the road. We arrived there about twelve: the Germans had departed at
six, leaving behind them a souvenir in the dead body of a fellow from
the East Lancs. crumpled in a ditch. He had been shot while eating. It
was my first corpse. I am afraid I was not overwhelmed with thoughts of
the fleetingness of life or the horror of death. If I remember my
feelings aright, they consisted of a pinch of sympathy mixed with a
trifle of disgust, and a very considerable hunger, which some apples by
the roadside did something to allay.