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ON THE WAY TO THE FIFTH ARMY 73
Dressed in their greatcoats, the observation officers stand
on the crest of the hill, with a very low, short parapet in front
of them. As a rule one is anything but welcorne when success-
ful in sneaking up to one of these points, for one may easily
attract the enemy’s attention and thus place the observers
in great danger. No wonder, therefore, that they saluted
us rather curtly and continued, immovable as statues, to
observe the French fire. We walked the last bit of the way
in single file, so as to make it appear to the opposite batteries
as if there were only one man, and not, by open order, to create
more movement than necessary on the hill crest. Sitting on
our heels, we observed the country southward in the direction
of Malancourt, and took our bearings as best we could. The
Major was just explaining what heights, copses, villages and
roads were occupied by the Germans and where the French
positions began, when a shrapnel shell exploded close by us,
a little to our left. " Deckung! " cried Matthiasz, and threw
himself down at full length behind the parapet. We had
hardly time to follow his example when three other of these
infernal machines spat out their contents, a little further
away, however, than the first. It was now obvious that we
had been seen by the French observers, and that the fire from
a battery had been concentrated on us. We, therefore,
thought it wise to move on to a safer place—when one has been
discovered there is nothing else to do if one wishes to get away
with a whole skin. To begin with we moved down to the
nearest mortar battery, where we passed a few moments.
Whilst they were loading for the next salvo I drew the accom-
panying very rough sketch. But one can hardly be expected
to show the requisite presence of mind and coolness to accom-
plish a detailed drawing, when at any moment one may be
smothered in shell fragments. In the picture the mortar
barrel is lowered for loading ; on the right is a projectile
on a Trage, or little iron barrow.
By a more westerly road, and still passing endless transport
columns, we next proceed northward , and ascend a height
which seems to be outside the firing line, and from which
with greater tranquillity we can observe the martial spectacle
southward. There is really little to be seen. The only thing
that we see and hear is the German batteries, and, if the
weather is clear, the impact and bursting of the shells. The
French batteries are, of course, equally well hidden behind
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