He dimly saw men on his right and on his left, and he heard footsteps behind him.

He thought that all the regiment was fleeing, pursued by those ominous crashes.
In his flight the sound of these following footsteps gave him his one meager relief.

He felt vaguely that death must make a first choice of the men who were nearest; the initial morsels for the dragons would be then those who were following him.

So he displayed the zeal of an insane sprinter in his purpose to keep them in the rear.

There was a race.
As he, leading, went across a little field, he found himself in a region of shells.