After lunch I sat with the Brigadier for a time and watched the men coming out from the trenches.
Some sick; some with trench feet; some on stretchers; some walking; worn, sad and dirty--all stumbling along in the glare.

The General spoke to each as they passed.

I noticed that their faces had no change of expression.

Their eyes were wide open, the pupils very small, and their mouths always sagged a bit.

They seemed like men in a dream, hardly realising where they were or what they were doing.