"Gibbous" is up there in the title because it is just fun to say. Gibbous, gibbous, gibbous. (Except I really want to say "gibbeous".)
Sadly for my hero, at the time he was making his slog across the northern part of France, at night, on the run from the gendarmes, and badly (but not cripplingly) injured, it was a waxing crescent moon. Which means that it didn't give much light and was only up for a couple hours in the early evening anyway.
Historically accurate novels are just such fun. Where's a full moon when you need it? Over in the middle of June, that's where it is!
Poor fellow. Oh well. Soldier on, Thomas!
Peace of Christ to you,