Silhouetted against the gathering dark were the men. In the half light, they seemed to have lost the dimension of depth; they seemed shades. They moved, these weary men, as though chained to one another, with the soulless, mechanical tread of zombies. Behind them, low on the horizon, the reflected sun glowed dully. Despair seemed to walk in desolation. I was glad when night closed in. Then my company was on its feet in turn, plodding up the silent beach in darkness. We took up defensive positions. We scooped out shallow emplacements and turned the mouths of our machine guns toward the sea. We
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