It turns us into a chain which rolls along with a sound of steel--the metallic hammering of rifle, bayonet, cartridges, and of the tin cup which shines on the dark masses like a bolt.

Wheels, gearing, machinery! One sees life and the reality of things striking and consuming and forging each other.
We knew well enough that we were going towards some tragedy that the chiefs knew of; but the tragedy was above all in the going there.
* * * * * * We changed country.

We left the trenches and climbed out upon the earth--along a great incline which hid the enemy horizon from us and protected us against him.

The blackening dampness turned the cold into a thing, and laid frozen shudders on us.

A pestilence surrounded us, wide and vague; and sometimes lines of pale crosses alongside our march spelled out death in a more precise way.
It was our tenth night; it was at the end of all our nights, and it seemed greater than they.