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the line and the men silently started to move. We formed a column, moving slowly and silently. I hate these things. After some 20 minutes of march we were obviously among enemy lines, as the column divided into smaller units and the low murmur was exchanged for hand signals repeated along the column. We stopped, sat down, listened, often. I could hear sounds, vehicles, distant voices. Smells of fires, coffee. Somebody smoking somewhere. Then signal again and the small column started to move. At several points we crawled, in ditches, over crests, boots and pockets were full of mud and had it not been for the heavy load I would have frozen to death in the rain. Hour after hour, no sound. At one point we actually heard and saw enemy shells coming in and landing on what was probably our old defensive positions, now vacated.
The offizier leading our column checking his maps now and then in a faint red light. Detailed maps, drawn by patrols who were here before us, displaying enemy positions in detail. At some point we joined the main column again, or if all columns joined up then, and I found Adler. All offizieren including him wore ordinary uniforms and equipment so it wasn't easy.
Comparing the grey skyline of the hills along le Moselle I realised we were deep behind enemy lines. The columns stopped suddenly and there was some movement at the front. It turns out we had encountered one of our own patrols that had secured a key junction for us during the night. As we marched on we picked up more of those and in one of them I met some old familiars. None had obviously encountered any problems seizing these points for us.
At one point we were almost compromised. An enemy unit had obviously realised something was up. By then we had heard our artillerie raining on the enemy posi
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