him into the kitchen and give him some chicken, a piece of pie, and some wine.

A quarter of an hour later I went to see Yvon to ask him to tell me where I was to sleep but not to bother to go with me. I had some paper work to get through and didn't want to keep him waiting up for me. But I hadn't realized. that, to find place for us all, the billeting officer had had to requisition rooms in outlying houses, some well beyond the outskirts of the village.

"Is it far?"

"More than half a mile, sir."

"You don't think I could find it by myself?"

"In the dark and with this rain? Oh no, Lieutenant. It's a big farm set back from the main road. You have to take a dirt road just beyond a little bridge."

Well, then, you'll have to wait for me. Have you got my flashlight?" "Yes, sir."

I finished my paper work, paid for Yvon's meal, and we started off in the dark behind the rather dullish beam of my torch. Yvon asked to hold it in order to spot certain roadside landmarks. The night was so black I took his hand and let him guide me.

It went on raining, hard and without slackening, with gusts of wind that whipped the drops against our faces and down our necks. We had been walking for at least ten minutes and I was beginning to wonder if he had lost his way. "No, sir, I don't think so.

And I sleep with whom?"

"By yourself, sir. I told the billeting officer you had taken Captain Martin's place and were commanding the company. After he'd found quarters for the Colonel, the headquarters staff, and the captains, there was an uneven number of officers, so he gave you the extra room."

"You're a good kid! But how about you? What'll happen to you in all this?" "Oh, I'll find some place to stay."

"Yes?"

I didn't insist. Under these conditions I didn't quite know what I could do for him anyway.

After crossing the little bridge, we left the main road and took a slimy dirt road. I could see a lighted window some distance ahead of us on higher ground.

"The road makes a turn to get there."

"How about cutting across?"

"If you like, sir."

Wicked idea! Cutting across' meant making our way up through a watersoaked field where we slipped back every step we took. We were both floundering and twice I felt a surge of water over my shoe-tops.

The window was on the side of a large, rectangular house, the front door to the right around the corner. Yvon went ahead and knocked. At that very moment a spurt of water gushed down from the roof and drenched us. I thought I'd taken my share of the wetting; I didn't know my orderly had got nearly the whole of it down his neck.

The door finally opened and an impressively tall man in his middle forties stood framed in the doorway. He asked me to come in.

"Are you pretty wet, Captain?"

"No, not very. It's lieutenant, by the way. Lieutanant Seilhac. But my orderly here...

"Oh, it's you, young fellow! Come in a minute. Didn't you tell me there'd be a captain staying here?"

"No, I said the officer commanding the company."

While I was explaining the situation to my host, I kept glancing at Yvon's sodden overcoat, his muddy puttees, and his shoes. He was in a bad way. "Are you wet underneath?"

"Down my neck, Lieutenant."

I asked the farmer to let Yvon stay for a bit and take off his overcoat. The

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