The Storm of Steel by Ernst Jünger — Read

The delightful days at Tourcoing were soon over. For a short while longer we were at Villers-au-Tertre, where we were made up to strength by new drafts, and then we went by train on the 15th November to Lécluse, the rest-place of the battalion in reserve on the new front now assigned to us. Lécluse was a fairly large village of Artois, surrounded by lakes. The immense reedy marshes concealed ducks and waterfowl, and the water was alive with fish. Though fishing was strictly forbidden, mysterious sounds were often heard on the water at night. One day, too, I had presented to me by the town-major a few paybooks of men in my company who had been caught fishing with bombs. I wasted no words over that, however; for the good spirits of the men were very much more to me than the protection of French fishing-waters or the dinner-tables of the resident military magnates. After this a gigantic pike was laid on my table nearly every evening by an unknown hand, and on the next day I gave my two company officers a meal, at which the principal dish was "Pike à la Lohengrin. " (Ask me no more! )

On the 19th I inspected our position in the line with my platoon commanders, as we were going in in a day or two. It was in front of the village of Vis-en-Artois. We were not so soon in the line as we expected, as there was an alarm nearly every night, and on account of an English attack that was supposed to be coming off we were held in readiness by turns in the Wotan line, the reserve gun positions, or in Dury village. Those who had war experience could see that something unpleasant would come of it.