WARNING
hurled themselves in pursuit of their adversary, to
me still invisible.
"English/ the beetroot-pullers said, knowledge-
able.
We went back to the car and left for Douai,
where we were due at noon. In every village,
people stood on their doorsteps, scanning the sky.
At the entrance to Douai we were stopped by a huge
territorial, full of authority and business.
'No traffic during the warning, sir/
'Very well____We'll wait____*
There were soon fifty cars and army lorries
jammed in the entrance to the town and surrounded
by women and children.
It's hopeless,' the territorial said distressfully,
'they've been told to go down to the cellars and
every one of them is out in the street/
Came a curious cortege. In the first car a French
priest and a British officer. In the lorry that
followed, twenty English infantry leaning on
reversed arms. And two buglers. Then an
ammunition wagon. It was a soldier's funeral
convoy: the rifles to fire the salvo and the bugles to
sound The Last Post.
The territorial was at a loss. His instructions fell
short of burials.
'Mafoij he said, 'I suppose I might just as well let
him through . . . seeing that he's dead already. „. .*
The warning stayed unbroken until at length a