The little groups of civilians standing at the roadside—appearing by magic out of the empty woods to watch the procession—raised a few cheers when the first tanks passed, but they soon left off, discouraged: now they were waiting as if for a long freight train to pass; the men on the tanks rode by, mute, indifferent, and almost allegorical, like firemen sitting in rows along their ladders.

Julien Gracq, Balcony in the Forest, loc. 343