great assault.... "Where are they now? they murmur....
Of a sudden, from the distance over there towards Belloy, a great clamor is heard:
"En avant! Vive la Legion. Ah ... Ah ... Ah ..."
And the notes of a bugle pierce the air; it is the brave Renard who sounds the charge.
The Legion, in a final bound, reaches the village.... The grenades burst, the mitrailleuses rattle....
A time which seems to the wounded, lying in the field, to be beyond measure, interminable, a time of anguish, during which one pictures man killing man, face to face, in hand-to-hand conflict.
The dying look up, the wounded raise themselves, as if all must see how the battle goes.
Then from across the field of combat a cry arises, swells, grows louder, louder: "They are there, it is over, Belloy is taken!"
And the wounded cry: "They have won. Belloy is taken!"
They are magnificent, those men, haggard, bleeding. It is the Legion fallen that salutes the glory of the Legion living:
"Belloy is ours! Vive la France! Vive la Legion! Vive la France!"
Among those who,
