I'm no psychologist and not at all given to review of sudden situations in the abstract.
There was a fight, or a riot, or something like it going on near the head of our line of autos.

The first two or three had come to a standstill; several in the middle of the line were trying to wheel outward and bolt for it behind the fleeing cavalry, and those at the tail end were blocked by one that had broken down.

Of course everybody was yelling at the top of his lungs and the hurrying shreds of blown mist further confounded the confusion.
So Jeremy and I ran forward, plunging through the mud and knocking over whoever blocked our way.

It was rather fun--like the football field at school.

But one man--a Syrian officer--stood near the last of the forward cars with the evident purpose of standing off interference.