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 and in unusual order sent out eight men who took from the selected men their weapons.

Vaněk became pale and his tall body from sheer weakness took on a crooked appearance.

“Dear God!” he moaned softly, and his bony, bruised hands were clasped. He looked around at me and I hung my head. A portion of some sort of prayer I remembered from childhood came to my tongue. I wanted to whisper “Forgive” to him, but even this word remained on my lips, for the order was given to fall in. Immediately Schuster, with unusual de cision and haste, constantly admonishing someone in his high voice, which sounded strangely in my ears, led us away to the front ranks behind the retreating enemy infantry.

We pressed on like animals, obediently, rapidly and in utter speechlessness. We had all succumbed to the terrible result of the unjust punishment, and all of us were doubtless thinking of those who remained behind. My whole body trembled. Through my thoughts flashed all the incidents and all the figures of the soldiers, and longest to remain in my mind’s eye was always Vaněk with his good-hearted, childlike smile. A great tenseness began gradually to overpower me, a hot wave rolled into my cheeks, and my ears in strained attention searched the varying hum for the sound of firing.

At that instant the collective discharge of many guns howled behind us. I cried out faintly. For a mo-