“I was still eating when I heard the first shots. I listened of course. I may even have stopped chewing for a few seconds. But the shots were irregular and seemed only to come from one place. I did not think it was contact with the enemy. Apart from anything else neither we nor the French were much inclined to fight in the dark. So I went on with my supper then got on my knees to search the floor for what might have been dropped. I hope you can picture that. The captain of hussars snuffling like a dog under the table. But soon there was a new disturbance and harder to ignore. The main door of the house opened into the room I was in, or would have done had it not been barred on the inside. A fist hammered at the wood, a voice called out for me. Sir! Sir! Sir! I kept silent but he kept knocking, kept calling. In the end I realised the only way to get rid of him was to ask who he was and what he wanted. He said he was Thompson. I recalled him, just about. A boy soldier and among the first who came to me along the road. He said that the others had gone berserk. Or they had gone mad. I forget the exact word he used. He had seen them shoot a man, a villager. He had seen them taking women away. He feared they intended to set the church alight. None of this amazed me. None of it, I think, meant anything to me at all. I called back that he should stay out of their way, that I would come and see for myself. He begged me to come soon and I assured him I would.