Free Death to the French (aka Rifleman Dodd) by C.S. Forester Page B

there were still great quantities to be found for the digging. And as they had marched in, a nannygoat with two kids had also entered the village, bleating pathetically. That meant soup for everyone, and more than a taste of meat; and not only that, but someone had grabbed a stray, lone chicken running round the dunghills which would be a welcome addition to the officers' mess. There was fuel too-fences and palings in such quantity that there was no need to cut down the fruit trees. Everyone could sit near a great, roaring fire and get warm for the first evening in weeks.
    It was sad about the wine. Someone had smashed in all the casks of wine in the cellar of the inn; wine was running everywhere, but for all that there was still enough in the casks for the officers and enough could be scooped off the floor for the men to make them all thoroughly happy. It was a perfectly splendid, riotous evening.
    No one gave a second thought to the fact that the goats and the chicken were the only living creatures to be found in the village: they were used to that. Of course it would have added to their enjoyment if a woman or two had been kind enough to remain to help in their entertainment. But that was not important at present; the men had marched too fast and too far lately to have many thoughts to devote to that subject. They were all very happy eating and drinking and revelling in the warmth.
    Fournier came and sat down heavily beside Sergeant Godinot.
    'Godron's going to die, I suppose?' he began.
    'I'm afraid so, poor devil,' said Godinot.
    Fournier hesitated a while before he continued: 'Do you remember that day when we were rejoining battalion after that fatigue we were left behind to do?' 'You mean the day Boyel was killed? Yes.'
    'Boyel was Godron's friend.'
    'He was my friend too.'
    'The same man killed them both,' said Fournier.
    'Not likely. How do you know?' asked Godinot.
    'It is. I swear it. I saw him as plain as my hand when he killed Boyel. And today- I saw him twice along my musket barrel. How did I come to miss him? How did we all come to miss him the other time? Tell me that.'
    'Gently, gently,' said Godinot, noticing the expression on Fournier's face.
    'More bullets miss than hit, you know.'
    'It will take a lot of bullets to hit that one,' said Fournier.
    'Go to sleep and forget about it,' said Godinot. 'You will feel better in the morning.'
    Yet it took more than that kindly offhandedness to soothe the superstitious Fournier; it was late when Godinot succeeded.
    The fires died down. The battalion slept while the sentries paced their beats round the village. The sentries were on the alert, as well men may be whose lives depend upon it. But no sentry's beat extended down to the river beach, and no one saw a score of dark shadows creep along the water's edge across the mouth of the ravine, leaving the hill of that day's battle for the other one beyond the ravine.

Chapter X

    NEXT morning the battalion was delighted to hear that they were not to march. Settled here in comfort, with enough to eat and shelter from the weather, they had forgotten their yesterday's yearnings to retreat. But they were not to remain idle, not all of them. Two companies were to stay in their billets to guard the fort and mend their clothes and do what- ever else might seem necessary. The other four paraded in light marching order-carrying nothing but their arms and their ammunition-and proceeded to sweep the hill where they had fought yesterday, in search of the brigands who had had the better of them. It was a careful and highly scientific operation. Three companies were extended until they covered the whole width from road to river, a dozen yards between each man. The four sections of the fourth company were distributed at intervals along the line to supply a solid mass to deal with the brigands when found-the twenty men of a single section could be relied on to do that. Then, with infinite trouble in preserving distance and dressing, they