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At 7 P.M. a lieutenant on a motor-cycle arrived with Corps orders for the morrow. We were to leave for Elincourt immediately the tactical situation demanded it. We dined early, and sought our beds early too. I had been asleep two minutes, as I thought really about an hour and a half when Dumble woke me up.
Which decided the colonel that the tactical situation demanded our departure, and the Brigade began the march to Elincourt. On past more evacuated villages. Abandoned farm carts some of which our batteries eagerly adopted for transporting stores and kit and the carcases of dogs, shot or poisoned, lying by the roadside, told their own story of the rush from the Hun.
By 1 P.M. we reached Elincourt, a medieval town whose gable-ends and belfry towers, and straight rows of hoary lime-trees, breathed the grace and charm of the real France.
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