He ran across the street and through the gateway. Once outside, he edged into line and shouldered his way along the road. A corporal passed, looked at him, repassed, and finally called an officer. “You belong to the 60th,” growled the corporal looking at the number on his kepi.

“We have no use for Franc-tireurs ,” added the officer, catching sight of his black trousers.

“I wish to volunteer in place of a comrade,” said Trent, and the officer shrugged his shoulders and passed on.