four
o'clock
The sound of shells bursting off at a distance , of tattooing machine guns , and roaring artillery on their own side was now mingled with the howling sound of shots whizzing through the air and coming closer and closer . And still the top of the ridge had not been reached ! The captain felt his breath fail him , stopped and raised his hand . The men were to get their wind back for a moment ; they had been on the march since four o'clock that morning ; they had done bravely with their forty-year-old legs . He could tell that by his own . Full of compassion he looked upon the bluish red faces streaming with sweat , and gave a start when he saw Lieutenant Weixler approaching in long strides . Why could he no longer see that face without a sense of being attacked , of being caught at the throat by a hatred he could hardly control ?