They had no knowledge of the French language, or where they were, or where their regiment was, but were quite confident of finding it, and were as cheerful as at manoeuvres.
Outside of Chaudun the road was blocked with tirailleurs, Algerians in light-blue Zouave uniforms, and native Turcos from Morocco in khaki, with khaki turbans.

They shivered in the autumn sunshine, and were wrapped in burnooses of black and white.

They were making a turning movement to attack the German right, and were being hurried forward.

They had just driven the German rear-guard out of Chaudun, and said that the fighting was still going on at Soissons.

But the only sign I saw of it were two Turcos who had followed the Germans too far.