Yet he was already thoroughly at home with the
staff of General Vaugirard.
The growling on either side of them seemed soon to come a little closer,
but John knew nevertheless that it was many miles away.
"Not an enemy in sight, not even a trace of smoke," said de Rougemont to
him. "We seem to be a great army here, merely resting in the fields, and
yet we know that a huge battle is going on."
"And that's about all we do know," said John. "What has impressed me in
this war is the fact that high officers even know so little. When cannon
throw shells ten or twelve miles, eyesight doesn't get much chance."
A wait for a full half-hour followed, a period of intense anxiety for
all in the group, and for the whole army too. John used his glasses
freely, and often he saw the French soldiers moving about in a restless
manner, until they were checked by their officers. But most of them were
lying down, their blue coats and red trousers making a vast and vivid
blur against the green of the grass.
All the while the sound of the cannon grew, but, despite the power of
his glasses, John could not see a sign of war. Only that roaring sound
came to tell him that battle, vast, gigantic, on a scale the world had
never seen before, was joined, and the volume of the cannon fire, beyond
a doubt, was growing. It pulsed heavily, and either he or his fancy
noticed a steady jarring motion. A faint acrid taint crept into the air
and he felt it in his nose and throat.
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