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34. only dwelt in retrospect on the happy weeks they had spent
together. Many injunctions followed. They would be sure to write to
each other every day, and think of each other all the while.
I found it easier to catch his grave, reassuring replies. The tone of
his voice baffled me. Here was Frémont, the retiring little man, with
shy manners, who liked to keep in the background and always asked
advice, appearing in the rôle of comforter! His protecting fondness
enfolded his beloved.
I continued to lean out above them, my elbows on the stone
window-sill, my hands joined. My malevolence gradually subsided.
That this was merely the repetition of a scene which had been
enacted all through the ages, no longer seemed to me a sufficient
reason to smile at it. On the contrary, I was stirred by the thought of
the eternal chain of loves and partings.
Night had fallen. The trees in the orchard seemed so many
phantoms. Not a light to be seen. Some birds flew silently across the
night air. I could hardly distinguish the two lovers now, but it
seemed to me that their lips had sought and found each other. There
was silence for a short space. Then a sentence was breathed softly.
A voice trembled into tears. I gathered from certain allusions that
she was afraid, though she did not say so, that he might never see
their little child.
Sitting there motionless, I dedicated my pitying sympathy to them
and thought how few men there were among all the thousands I
had seen marching past this afternoon, who were not leaving some
woman at home, wife or lover, and some child of their flesh.... Poor
souls! How terrible their grief must be! I ought to have
congratulated myself on the fact that I was leaving nothing behind
me. Why did I now so poignantly regret my solitude; did I envy the
farewells uttered amid tears and the sealing of vows?
There was a noise behind me: Guillaumin. I left the window, an
instinctive delicacy of feeling prevented me from drawing his
attention to the presence of the couple in the garden.
35. We went down into the yard again. My companion was in
tremendous form. He held forth on a hundred and one subjects, and
I agreed with him absent-mindedly. My thoughts were wandering
capriciously. I thought of my brother Victor for whose safe return
someone was praying.... A strange insistent idea kept recurring to
my mind, of writing to the girl who had thought of me yesterday.
CHAPTER XVIII
A RETURN OF EGOISM
The last distribution of stores had just taken place—biscuits,
haversack rations, and iron rations. Cartridges too, fifteen packets a
head; a pretty tough load, in addition to everything else. A lot of
men were grousing about where they should put them.
The worst of it was that there was some surplus. The company
commander who was passing said:
"You're not going to leave those behind, mind!"
I took two extra packets, and Guillaumin four. He remarked:
"This is the most necessary part of your equipment, you chaps, don't
you make any mistake about that!"
He had few imitators. Playoust, who was prowling round, jeered.
"For the Bosches? But my dear fellow you won't see any for six
weeks!"
It was not at all encouraging. Lamalou happened to turn up, and as
an old stager, at once exclaimed:
"Shove one along, and let's 'ave a look!"
He had formerly been in one of the flying columns in Morocco where
the replenishment of ammunition was a difficulty. Guillaumin threw
him a packet.
36. "Catch!"
The other caught it in mid air, then another, and another, five, ten,
fifteen. That doubled his load and he went on shouting.
"Another! And another! Just to make 'em dance!"
His example was decisive. Five minutes later there was nothing left
of the heap.
"The creature knows how to make himself useful!" I thought. It was
a pity he drank so much! He had just got into new and serious
trouble. A scandal in a pub, as usual—the officer on rounds had
reported him—he had been imprisoned—and the company sergeant-
major was innocently congratulating himself upon having got rid of
him!
But the captain got him out, and made a point of having a heart-to-
heart talk with him. What could he have threatened him with? With
leaving him at the depôt I think. The other had to promise to be
good, he reappeared triumphant.
"A regular brick, the Captain."
Ravelli could not get over it.
At two o'clock I began to get ready; we were to start at four. I was
fully equipped; nothing was missing. My pockets were stuffed with
the endless little necessaries for which there was no room
elsewhere: tooth-brush, medicine-case, string, pocket-knife, lighter,
electric torch. Bouillon had conscientiously tidied me up and cleaned
my equipment. In consideration of what I owed him, I had tipped
him ten francs. He hesitated. It was a large sum! I insisted upon his
taking it. I did not like being indebted to people.
I was alone in our room. I had just slipped my swollen pack over my
shoulder. My water-bottle was lying on a shelf above me. I reached
37. out my hand to take it. Ugh! it slipped out of my hand, and fell on to
the tiles.
Damn—oh, damn. Supposing it leaked!
I ran to a tap and began to fill it.
Yes, there was no doubt about it. It was done for!
I was in despair. Nothing worse could have happened to me. I knew
the incomparable value of a few drops of moisture at critical
moments. When you are exhausted and choked by the sun and the
dust, there is nothing like a drop of water on a piece of sugar, or a
thimbleful of rum to revive you. And on a route march too you are
sustained by the mere thought that you are carrying with you this
source of refreshment. And I who had taken such care, and was so
pleased at having this clean well-corked water-bottle.... What
odiously bad luck! My whole campaign seemed to me to be poisoned
by it....
Bouillon arrived on the scene. Directly I had told him, distractedly, of
my misfortune.
"Good heavens!" he said, "that it should 'appen just now! It's far too
late to get it soldered!"
I sighed. He looked round the room.
"W'y not sneak one?"
As I shrugged my shoulders. He continued:
"I'll undertake the job if yer like?"
"But how?"
"Oh, I'll get one from someone or other."
"You mustn't touch Guillaumin's things, mind."
"No, 'e's in the section. Wot abaht this one?"
"De Valpic's?"
"All right! Wait a minute!"
38. "But I say, he...?"
I hesitated.
"He would notice it! The cases are marked, look...."
"Don't you go an' worry yerself abaht that now! You've only got to
change them! You go an' keep an eye on the door...."
I went and watched the corridor. I was consumed by a lively
remorse. But what did it matter! Each one must fend for himself! He
would have to get out of the difficulty as best he could. After all
there was nothing more usual in the regiment than these sly thefts.
Why, someone had relieved me of one of my brushes only the day
before yesterday! I blamed myself for my horrible selfishness, but I
had practised it for so long. The opportunity was too tempting!
Anything rather than to suffer, hour after hour, from thirst or the fear
of thirst! And did I not promise myself—hypocrite that I was—to
share my ration of water with the comrade I had despoiled?
In the twinkling of an eye Bouillon had dexterously drawn the two
bottles out of their cloth cases, and effected the exchange.
"Nobody will ever be any the wiser!"
De Valpic came in soon after and noticed nothing.
I can hear the whistle. Quick march! We shook ourselves.... That
was a never-to-be-forgotten moment.
I was in the rear of the section. I considered our column;
expressions and attitudes at that moment imprinted themselves on
my memory. Fifteen yards in front at the head of the section
Guillaumin was marching along with his usual swing. I ran an eye
over my half-sections. Here were Gaudéreaux and Trichet; there was
Judsi, the buffoon, giving an imitation of the goose step; Lamalou
with his képi à la Knut. Loriot, the man with the rupture, gloomy and
already dragging his leg along affectedly; my corporals, Donnadieu,
39. a little pale, sandy-haired man gripping the butt of his rifle
convulsively. Bouguet, extremely fit, turning round to see that all his
men were there.
It gave one the impression of a holiday parade. I have mentioned
the windows decorated with bunting, the men's rifles and packs too
were ornamented with little flags. And the flowers! In one section,
Trichet, who was a gardener by trade, had procured great bundles of
them. They had been distributed among the different half-sections.
The other sergeants had been given roses or dahlias by their men. I
had been forgotten, and when Bouillon, who was annoyed about it,
had brought me some geraniums just as we were starting, I refused
them with thanks! Quite unnecessary! I alone was clear-headed. You
would have thought that I alone knew to what a sinister revel we
were hastening.
Left! Right! We were all marching at the same pace, towards our
mysterious destiny. For how many of us had Fate signed the order of
arrest! I tried to pick out the first victims. Was it that block-head—
Henry, I think, they called him—who would be picked up in a
fortnight's time, with his leg or head torn off? A big dark fellow was
laughing, showing his teeth in a huge guffaw. I mentally put him
down as not being one of those who would come back. This ghastly
game fascinated me.
On getting to the main street we halted for a time and waited to
take our place in the regiment. The bugles passed by.
Sol mi: Sol do!
La classe s'en va!
Then we followed the stream.
A line had formed three-deep along each pavement. All F——, all the
neighbouring country was crowded there. Our departure effected the
country even more than that of the regulars. These men from
twenty-five to thirty years old were the married youth, who had
taken root and founded a family. Drawn up in the doorways, or
40. leaning from the windows, women and children, with all their heart,
were shouting:
"Long live the 3rd...!"
A territorial called out:
"Halloa boys? We're coming on the day after to-morrow!"
"Hm! At a safe distance!" Judsi retorted gaily.
The men waved and smiled at their relations and friends who had
come up, but nothing further; there was no chance of hanging
behind, or falling out. Even Judsi soon gave up his tomfoolery; each
one felt instinctively that a brave bearing would influence the
people's confidence.
The clamour round us continued to increase:
"Long live France! Long live the 3rd...."
The distant voice of the bugles only reached us in snatches now, but
we marched in step all the same. The collective excitement went to
my head. I marched with my eye fixed in front of me, my rifle glued
to my shoulder, a soldier among these soldiers.
When we got into the Avenue de la Gare, I caught sight of De
Valpic, guide to the 2nd section. He had half-turned round, and was
leaning to one side, with an anxious expression. I suddenly thought
of his water-bottle, filled just as we were leaving. Drops must be
trickling from it now at every step.
I was ashamed of myself. I despised myself. If I did not go quite as
far as to vow to make amends for this villainy—and how I should
have set about it I do not know—at least I swore that it should be
my last; yes, the very last.
I was going to be born anew, and quite different. My heart was
beating more warmly. Carried away by the rapidity of the pace,
uplifted by the untiring acclamations of the crowd, it seemed to me
that I was out-distancing the man I had been.
41. PART II
BOOK IV
August 9th-12th
CHAPTER I
UNDER WAY
The bugle sounded. We might get out.
Versailles. How these platforms swarmed! Ten convoys, like ours,
with their carriages decorated in the same way with flags and
branches of green leaves, scribbled over with harmless inscriptions
and caricatures, had turned out, topsyturvy, this crowd of soldiers in
chequered uniforms. The hubbub was tremendous. Everyone
seemed in the best of spirits. There were flowers in every cap. We
were forbidden to go far. As a matter of fact, no one thought of such
a thing, we had to take care not to lose our company, and section.
We hardly ventured as far as the fountains of drinking water. Having
awaited my turn for it, I went up just after Judsi. I actually felt
inclined to smack him on the back, he was so tantalising with his
trick of drinking with his lips glued to the tap.
Guillaumin told me when I joined him that the halt was to last for an
hour. We might take a turn! We amused ourselves for a moment, by
watching some horses being entrained—by no means an easy job.
They were hoisting them in with slings. Their place of export was
marked "Remount depôt Saint-Lô." Guillaumin nudged me with his
elbow.
"Some concentration, what!"
42. It was true. All the Brittany lines, most of those from Normandy and
Atlantic coast, converged there, bringing with them the blood of a
third, or almost a third, of France.
We got back into the train. Evening was coming on. Guillaumin and I
were to keep order in the truck; forty men in our charge. To begin
with everyone had submitted to the restrictions concerning the
arrangement of packs and rifles. Now the confusion began. A lot of
them had got hold of their packs again to make a pillow, and most
of them began to shed their equipment.
Lamalou set about moving the seats. I interfered. He began to argue
about it. Guillaumin had to join in, and Bouillon too.
We started off again. Were we going to skirt Paris on the north or
the south? We soon found out. The train approached the gradient at
Buc. We watched in vain for some aeroplanes. Judsi exclaimed:
"Wot are you thinkin' of! They've all gone orf to Berlin!"
There were brief stops at small stations. The same scene was
repeated every time: idlers crowding up to the railings to cheer us
and we replying with shouts of "Death to the Bosches!" "Down with
the Kaiser!" solely out of politeness, in order not to disappoint all
these people who had waited so long. There was no longer the frank
enthusiasm there had been just now on leaving F——. The men
were getting tired. The Red Cross members who distributed
chocolate, fruit, and post-cards in profusion were no longer hailed
with the same delight. Loriot and Lamalou ended by grumbling
because they were so stingy with the wine.
The night fell, and with it what was left of cheerfulness. Judsi was
the last to give in. He picked out well-known airs and set new words
to them, ineffable drivel, beyond all description, and probably of his
own composition. The coarsest sallies still raised a few laughs. These
echoes of an inane merriment were becoming quite unbearable.
I thought of shutting the men up altogether. Guillaumin dissuaded
me from doing so:
43. "Take care you don't get yourself disliked!"
It was getting dark. Corporal Donnadieu lit the section lantern.
Where was it to be hung? To that hook in the middle of the ceiling.
It swung backwards and forwards giving a flickering light.
Everyone was making preparations now, for going to sleep. A small
number occupied the seats, the rest were stretched on the floor.
They formed tangled groups in the shadows. Good-humoured elbow
digs and expostulations were exchanged.
Guillaumin had lain down beside me, with his own head on his pack,
and that of one of his corporals fitted between his knees. He became
expansive and exclaimed:
"How's this for up-to-date comfort!"
It was a stifling evening. I was hot and uncomfortable, as I had not
even had the courage to undo my belt. We had had a cold supper.
The smell of cheese and sausage still hung about. It was the first
taste of the promiscuousness. As long as the two doors were open,
the atmosphere was breathable. But here was Bouguet, who had
just lain down, shouting:
"What do you say to shutting the door. There's a beastly draught."
Some coarse aside of Judsi's raised roars of merriment.
Lamalou sat up.
"Let's shut the door."
I shouted from the end of the carriage:
"Steady on! You must leave room for a little air to get in!"
Lamalou took no notice.
"Didn't you hear?" asked Bouillon. "The sergeant's orders were to
leave it open!"
Bouguet objected.
44. "Do you want us all to catch our death of cold, sergeant? Besides it's
the rule that doors must be kept shut at night."
Guillaumin raised himself, and whispered to me:
"The chap's quite right, you know!"
"How's that?"
"The poilus will roll off into the scenery when they go to sleep."
This prospect was disquieting. I said no more, but let them do as
they liked. A minute afterwards I complained of the stuffiness.
"Why not have the ventilator opened?" Guillaumin suggested.
"What ventilator?"
He was obliging enough to get up and feel about to find the bolt.
The shutter slid along in the groove. A scrap of sky showed through,
and some fleecy clouds shining in the moonlight. I announced that I
should like to spend my night at the window.
"Are you quite off your chump? Try to have a snooze!"
"I'm not sleepy."
I groped along avoiding the slumberers and reached the seat near
the wall. I succeeded in pulling myself up, and leaning my elbows on
the opening, I breathed in the delicious night air.
Our convoy was crawling along at a monotonous pace, through the
darkness. It seemed of an immoderate length, dark from end to end,
except in the centre, where the light from the officer's saloon shone
on the ballast. By leaning out while we went round the curves I
could make out the fire in the engine, a curtain of purple, with
fantastic shadows moving against it. Our whistle often blew, and
others answered stridently from the distance. The regular clank of
the wheels on the rails was audible, and a minute red dot could
sometimes be seen at the end of a straight piece of line—the tail
light of the train ahead of us.
45. There were thousands of fleecy clouds scattered over the sky, all lit
up on the same side by the pale rays of the moon. We were leaving
the Vallée de la Bièvre. The surrounding country was growing flat. A
far-spreading horizon soon became visible beyond the open fields.
Then the radiance of Paris rose into sight.
It was impossible to mistake it for the translucent band of a
mysterious, tender blue which still lingered in the west. It resembled
rather the afterglow of a sunrise or of a huge fire. The silhouettes of
houses and trees stood out in the foreground like Chinese shadows
against the glowing distance.
The City of Light! I revelled in the vision and the symbol, both
equally imposing. What a part this city had played in history! How
feverishly she throbbed to-day. I blamed myself for having failed to
take advantage of the magnificent opportunity which had been
within my reach the other day. Ought I not, with more fellow-feeling
and enthusiasm, to have mixed with the crowd, and roamed day and
night in search of the secret of Paris, which was also the secret of
France! I remembered the boulevards brilliant in their multi-coloured
lights, the crowd crushing against the windows of the big daily
papers....
Fresh news would be appearing on the tapes at this hour. What
would it be? We had not been able to get a paper all day, but a
persistent rumour had reached us: "Mulhouse!" ...
Was it a prelude to victory? Was Paris illuminated? Perhaps.... But
what if it were one of those ephemeral successes? What evil
presentiment enslaved me? Was I still under Fortin's influence?
(Fortin who was never mentioned now except in a whisper. We knew
he was confined to his cell: awaiting trial by Court Martial.)
Paris! Why should I dream of defeat? Paris, our head and our heart!
Paris as hostage! As martyr perhaps! I pictured the horde of
Barbarians pitching their tents in the country we were slipping
through, turning their guns on to the glittering capital. Where would
their fury end? What would be left of these buildings, this glory,
46. which seemed destined for immortality? These were gloomy visions.
Sick at heart, I longed with more ardour than I had lately longed for
anything on earth, for the miraculous miscarriage of this probability.
If there was one thing at which I was astonished, it was at not
finding most of my companions at the ventilators like myself. To
send Paris a last greeting! They must all, or nearly all, be feeling
that all they counted dear, was shut up within those walls. I who had
no one there—nor anywhere else either for that matter—this thought
shook me. Nobody. My father? Was a stranger, as I have already
said. I thought nevertheless of his farewell, of his fugitive
tenderness, due to obscure ties of the blood. Who else was there?
Laquarrière? If he thought of me it would certainly be to
congratulate himself on being safely in shelter, while I was risking....
Nobody. There really was nobody!
And yet my eyes probed the darkness, my glance was unconsciously
drawn in a certain direction.... In that suburb, I could imagine a
street, a house, ... in that house someone ... someone who had
written!—"We think of you a great deal...."
An idle dream and one which passed.
There was a metallic rattle. We were crossing the Seine. Still a few
more miles to go, through the dark countryside. An important station
was coming soon. Myriad lamps lit up countless railway lines.
Our speed slackened, till we slowed down to a walking pace. We
slowly skirted endless pavements. I could distinguish retreating
uniforms and piles of arms. An artillery sentry gave me a friendly
wave.
"What station do you come from?" I shouted to him.
"Marseilles!" he replied.
47. His warm Southern accent had made me start. How many convoys
had he seen rolling past in the same direction during the few hours
he had been there with his battery. The concentration! The idea of
this gigantic operation made one think: these trains whose time-
tables had been arranged months, no years, in advance, these
hundreds upon hundreds of trains flashing across the country in
every direction; skirting gulfs and mountains, crossing the rivers,
flowing in from every extremity of France, carrying the immense
masses of war material, and the harvest of young men. Caught up in
this huge mechanism, this invisible unity, what a small thing I was,
for all my pride of intellect!
A new tack soon threw us off the main lines. I occasionally turned
round to look into the interior of the carriage, where the men were
sleeping, livid beneath the swinging lantern, like corpses, I thought,
at the bottom of a sunken submarine.
I stayed like this for a long time, half-awake and half-dreaming. In
what direction were we going? To Maubeuge? Or Châlons? I
remember a long stop in the middle of the night on a siding on the
outskirts of Noisy-le-Sec.
Some of the men were awake, eating bread and cheese. I felt a tap
on my shoulder.
"Well, are you going to make up your mind to it?" Guillaumin asked
me.
"To what?"
I yawned.
"To take a nap. Why you're so sleepy you can hardly stand up! Come
along and lie down!"
"Where? There's no room!"
"What about my place?"
48. I declined it with thanks. He insisted. Oh, come along! It was his
turn to take the air!
Very well. I gave in. We started off again. The outlook was no longer
so attractive. The glow of Paris had faded into the distance, and the
moon had just sunk behind the deep blue horizon.
CHAPTER II
HARASSED, ALREADY
When I woke, dawn was stealing in by the door which was once
more open. Judsi had installed himself at it, his legs dangling
outside. We all looked the worse for wear and had puffy faces.
Where were we? It was dreary, barren country, an indefinite
switchback of bald ridges. The rocky part of Champagne apparently.
Exactly. A few minutes later our train drew up at Rheims.
The weather was dull and drizzly. We felt cold when we got out: the
men began to stamp their feet. We N.C.O.'s joined up together.
Descroix and Humel complained bitterly of stiffness. The filthy
carriages! Must have been made on purpose for us! Everyone was
sighing for his coffee. Guillaumin preached patience. Frémont had
wandered off to scribble a letter. De Valpic was pale and silent and
heavy-eyed.
I left them and went in search of some clean water. When I came
back, tidied up and much refreshed, coffee had been brought. The
tin drinking cups were plunged at will into the "dixeys." It was
scalding! A real treat! There was "rooty" too. And the sun came out:
we were reviving.
Soon, a circle formed round Lieutenant Henriot. In order to make
himself pleasant Playoust had put certain questions to him
concerning the strategical situation. The other at once owned that
49. he had had certain hints from the colonel—oh, it was official then!—
certain indications....
I drew near. He spread out a map on a seat, and began to speak
with great fluency.... I tried for a moment to follow him, but
disobliging shoulders got in the way. He was pointing out certain
landmarks and routes, and giving the names of towns and villages.
It was all a closed book to me! I got tired of it and went off; I was
inclined to mistrust these perorations by a subaltern.
Our train was shunted back, and we started again.
I was tired and peevish, and fumed at the length of our journey.
Eighteen hours already, and we were nowhere near the end!
Our destination still remained a mystery, a problem which disquieted
us.
Guillaumin plumped for Sedan, and worried me to tell him what I
thought.
"What on earth does it matter to me?"
"Do you think they'll come back as far as that?"
To annoy him, I said:
"Sure to!"
He exclaimed:
"Well, to be going on with, you know we're at Mulhouse! Absolutely
official!"
On the outskirts of Ste.-Menehould, there was a prolonged halt,
without permission to get out. Another convoy was standing on a
side line. There were some poilus on the platform. Bouillon drew
attention to their regimental numbers. They belonged to our
division. The men at once called to each other, and asked them to
50. join in a drink. Everyone was delighted. It seemed little short of
marvellous to find neighbours from their part of the world,
Beaucerons, so far from home!
A new start. The country was becoming hilly and picturesque. There
were some gorges and then a long tunnel. There was no more doubt
about the direction we were taking! Corporal Bouguet, who had
served his term with the 4th, was most emphatic: we were taking a
bee-line to Verdun!
Good! the idea of fighting under the shelter of a powerful fortress
was not displeasing.
Two hours more. The valley of the Meuse was reached, Verdun
attained, and then left behind.... The deuce! Were they going to
detrain us at the frontier in the first line...?
No, a few miles farther on, the train stopped in the depths of the
country. There was a bugle call, and Henriot shouted:
"Here we are!"
"Where?"
"At Charny, the terminus. Out you get! And no disorder, you
understand!"
In three minutes we were on the ground, arms and baggage and all.
The captain passed by.
"You're not over-tired?"
Lamalou thumped his chest.
"In the pink, sir!"
"So much the better, because you've got a nice little walk before
you!"
Some long faces were pulled. It was nearly midday. We had had
nothing to eat and the heat was killing.
"Now we return to business!" said Judsi.
51. We went into the neighbouring field through a gap in the hedge.
Gaudéreaux bent down and picked up a clod of earth. He sniffed at
it.
"Pooh!" he said. "It ain't up to ours!"
The lieutenant heard him, and reproved him for it.
"It's the same thing, it's French soil. It's what we are going to be
killed for."
Did he count on producing an effect? The other gazed at him,
dumbfounded!
A little walk indeed! I chewed the word with rage during the seven
hours that this march lasted. Did they think it was the right way...?
The right way to discourage the men!
No respite except the hourly halts, and they managed to cheat over
them, by not whistling until the hour, or an hour and five minutes
was up, or cutting them short by two minutes!
If there was one thing that astonished me it was the goodwill and
endurance, which I saw manifested all round me. "Grouse," the first
day? Oh no, that was out of the question! A praiseworthy resolution!
When going through the villages, the men found a way, even when
absolutely done up, of putting on a spurt, and making eyes at all the
pretty girls!
Judsi sang snatches of very doubtful songs, which made some of
them laugh, while others, their more flighty sisters, blew us kisses.
Corporal Bouguet all at once started a marching song: the men
joined in the chorus: the captain did not interfere, but the
commanding officer came rushing up, a pot-bellied puppet, perched
up on his big horse. Oh, come along! What was all this? Would they
shut up? Would they never think of the war as something to be
taken seriously?
52. This rating was upsetting. Another incident helped to damp their
spirits. The distracted group we passed on the roadside ... a
lieutenant, a corporal, the cyclist, and an auxiliary medical officer,
surrounding a man stretched on the ground, a reservist who had
just fallen out. I caught sight of a violet face and glassy eyes.
The rumour spread that it was a fit.
The name of the man was soon discovered; he belonged to the 21st
company, and was named Gaspard Métairie, a coppersmith from F
——. Dead? Oh, yes! lying there like a log! I listened to the men's
remarks. Poor wretch! It made one's heart bleed. So soon. And so
stupidly. If it had been some of the Bosches' work there would have
been nothing to be said. But like that! Simply tired out! Fathers of
families, just think! Carrying the full weight!... But what was the
good of fussing? The war would not be over this evening!
"Oh, a lot they care wot becomes of us," Loriot said. "I'm done, I
am!"
He retired on to the footpath.
"What's the matter now?" I shouted to him.
"No good. Can't go on!"
"What can't go on?"
"I can't. I'm an old trooper, I am!"
He stopped and tried to sit down. The whole column slowed down,
much interested and amused.
"March up, confound you!"
The captain overtook us.
"What's up?"
My nerves were on edge. I don't know what put the whim into my
head, but I gave a dry description of the scene at which I had
assisted, the verdict given by the Medical Officer, and the man's
53. recriminations, swearing that he would make a point of falling at the
first shot.
Loriot was hugging himself and pretending to be in awful pain.
The captain did not pronounce an opinion.
"Stay with him, Sergeant; you will report him to the Medical Officer."
So we waited. Loriot sulking and livid with rage. I irritated at the
thought that this task ought to have fallen to Playoust, the sergeant
of the day.
The companies, as they marched past included us in the same
glance of ironical pity.
Surgeon-Major Bouchut recognised his "client," as he called him, at
the first glance.
"Ah! It's hurting you, is it? Easy enough to say so! I can't examine
you here. Come along, jump in there! We shall soon see!"
Under my very eyes, Loriot hoisted himself up into the ambulance,
settled himself down comfortably, and began to chat with the
orderlies.
Infuriated by my own stupidity and the delay it had cost me, I
hurried on.
The road went up and up. I began to experience the smothered
sensation in the shoulders and chest caused by having to carry a
pack. Every hundred yards—and what a bore it was—the buckle of
my sling came undone, as the point was blunted and did not catch
properly, and the rifle slipped. An inconvenience which could not be
remedied, and which seemed likely to pursue me throughout the
campaign. It was about four o'clock; the sun was still blazing, drops
of perspiration gathered inside the men's caps and occasionally
trickled on to the ground. To think that this march was nothing:
mere child's play.
The worst of it was that just as I was about to catch the others up,
my right foot began to feel sore. I remembered that the evening
54. they had delivered these boots.... At the first halt I quickly took off
both boot and putties.
The inspection filled me with consternation. I had hoped my stocking
alone was responsible for it.... Not at all, there was no irksome fold.
It was the counter right enough. What was to be done? The fatal
blister was gathering. The prospect of hours of atrocious pain stared
me in the face. The little courage I had oozed away.
I was dying of thirst; I poured out a cupful. The water was warm,
but it refreshed me all the same. Catching sight of De Valpic, lying
down with sunken cheeks, I went up to him.
"De Valpic?"
He opened his eyes.
"Will you have ... a drink?"
"But you...?"
"I've got plenty, don't you worry. I noticed ... your water-bottle is
leaking, isn't it?"
"Yes, I don't know how it happened. It's very troublesome."
"Hand me your drinking cup. There now. Wait a minute!" I half-filled
it for him, added a few drops of Ricqles, and pulling my mess-tin out
of my haversack offered him some sugar. He took two pieces, but
greedily drank a mouthful without waiting for it to melt.
"Thanks; my throat was so terribly parched."
A wave of red flooded his cheeks.
"You're a good sort, Dreher."
I sat down beside him and asked him in a friendly way whether he
was not awfully tired?
"I look it, don't I?"
"Oh! Just like everyone else!"
The whistle blew! I left him.
55. "Cheer up!"
But at the next pause I avoided looking in his direction. There was
only enough water for me.
A few more miles. The men were grumbling quite openly now. From
time to time one would fall out, and all at once, or little by little lose
ground, and get left behind by the platoon. What was there to be
said? I interfered no more. These fellows had not had a bite since
five o'clock that morning.
Were we to leave these stragglers their rifles, or not?
The subaltern said they were to be taken away.
The result was that those who remained threatened to give up in
their turn. Two rifles to drag about, not much! They were quite
willing to do their bit, but they were not going to be put upon, not
them!
Lieutenant Henriot changed his mind.
"Each man will keep his own rifle!"
"Too late now. How are we to find the owners of them all?"
He got scared.
"I was wrong. I made a mistake!" he repeated.
Guillaumin reassured him by saying all the poilus were sure to turn
up.
One would have thought that it all amused him, the long day's
march, the hunger and thirst,—everything. He kept on joking—
rather too familiarly perhaps—with Lamalou and Judsi and those of
our men who still held out. He even took it into his head to talk
theatres to me! I soon sent him off with a flea in his ear, as may be
imagined. He did not notice for some time that I was limping.
"Foot hurting you?"
"Yes."
56. He offered to carry my pack. I was on the point of allowing him to,
but Lamalou, who was watching me furtively, jeered.
"Halloa, Sergeant! You following poor Loriot's example?"
"No. I've got a sore foot," I said; "but I am going to stick to it all
right."
On my refusal Guillaumin took on another lame dog's pack. Lamalou
soon followed his example.
I only kept on automatically. My heel must be quite raw. Perhaps I
was risking the fate of my whole campaign. It couldn't be helped. In
my heart of hearts I almost congratulated myself on this opportunity
of escape.
We ended by breaking all ranks. Sections, platoons, and companies
were all mixed up. We were just a herd, and at the entrance to a
little hamlet when the order was passed down to shoulder arms no
one budged. Not much! We're not so green as all that! Give us a bite
o' some'at first!
But it was not to be so lightly disregarded! The captain rode down
what remained of our column, and repeated the order, brandishing
his whip furiously. The men made up their minds to obey it. We
found out the reason for it afterwards.... A general surrounded by
his staff, was watching us march past ... someone whispered that it
was the general in command of the division.
It was unfortunate that this should be his first experience of us. He
took stock of us superciliously; his forehead puckered in a frown of
disillusionment. The men growled.
"Like to see you in our place, old chap, with an empty stomach, and
a pack on your back!"
Oh, that arrival at our billets in Orne, a village of five hundred
inhabitants, already overflowing with troops of all kinds. Oh, how
depressed we were, both physically and morally. I was especially
exhausted. There was a complete lack of any spirit of organisation
57. among the authorities, and the troops were totally out of hand. We
were obviously worth nothing at all!
Where and how did the men get food? Guillaumin luckily took charge
of the whole section. I believe he bustled about, got hold of the
mess-corporal, and was the first to arrive with a fatigue party, at the
issue of rations which took place in the market-square towards
midnight.
I had sacrificed my "posse," but I still had some bread and hard-
boiled eggs left that I had brought with me from F——. I took off my
accoutrements and boots and installed myself in the best corner of
the stable reserved for our lot, and slept on the straw till five o'clock
next morning.
CHAPTER III
IN BILLETS
The weather next day was glorious. A fine rain had fallen. The men
now very clean and spruce, wandered about the village, with their
caps cocked over their ears.
No danger threatened. No one would have thought we were at war.
And as for the Bosches, let them go hang! The natives had certainly
said, shaking their heads, that they had already seen some Uhlans
on the neighbouring hills. Absurd inventions. A dragoon whom we
questioned burst out laughing in our faces. The Bosches! They had
indeed been across the frontier for twenty-four hours or so, over
there towards Longwy. They were soon sent to the right-about. We
might sleep in peace! We had the regulars in front of us, about
twenty regiments of them!
Some trenches had been dug at the approaches to the village, the
21st had spent the night in them. It was one of the regular
amusements to go and look over them during the day-time. They
58. were very unconvincing, casually hewn out and occupied. Orne's
defensive organisation! Who could take it seriously?
"Blowed if I don't think our good time's beginning," said Judsi.
The villagers were really delightful. These poor dwellers by the
Meuse! They did not have much of a time afterwards. Who would
not have become embittered in their place? At the outset we were
touched by their cordial, almost friendly reception. Many of us went
in search of a bed. I believe that but few were found which did not
already boast an occupant. Lamalou's experience was a case in
point. Other attachments were formed. On the other hand, Playoust
came to grief—the thing became known immediately—with the
grocer's pretty wife. He revenged himself by attributing the mishap
to the regimental sergeant-major.
The outstanding feature—which never varied throughout the
campaign—was the catering. We N.C.O.'s messed together. But
Descroix and his lot were already dissatisfied with this arrangement
and suggested that each platoon should fend for itself.
I was doubtful about this, but Guillaumin took me aside.
"Leave them alone! It will suit us much better!"
He explained that he had made a great find in the shape of a top-
hole cook, a real professional. He had been chef at Bernstein's!!!
The fellow would perhaps consent to cook for three or four, but not
a word!—or the officers would appropriate him. He made me
acquainted with the prodigy, Gaufrèteau, a smooth-skinned, cold
creature, very much on his dignity, who would not bind himself in
any way.
Our comrades had managed somehow or other to get hold of some
wine at twenty-four sous the litre, good pale Lorraine wine, on which
they feasted among themselves. You had to pay two francs
everywhere else for a much inferior quality.
Guillaumin determined he would not be outdone, and went off in
search of it. He ended by coming back triumphant, bringing the
59. same wine at 1 franc 20, and the wine merchant was to have the
bottles back!
He poured out several bumpers and made fun of De Valpic for
refusing to take any. I suggested adding some water to it. He ragged
me in turn.
"What are you afraid of? If we've got to be knocked out at this job,
at least let's have our money's worth first!"
This coarse tomfoolery maddened me. Was it an attitude of mind
assumed for war-time, to match that of those poor brutes of
troopers. I sarcastically twitted him with it. He was not at all
annoyed.
"Just what I'm trying for!"
Thereupon he invited his corporals and mine to empty new bottles. I
could not leave him in the lurch. All these people were drinking and
rotting with him round the table in the kitchen of our farm. The
place was filled with the smell of burning fat. What a scene, and
what a pastime! I was bored to death.
"I'll see you later!" I said, and went off making some excuse. I
should have liked to meet Fortin or someone of that calibre. A pity
they'd left him at F——, but perhaps it might be lucky for him.
I took a turn round the neighbouring billets. Nothing but men lying
about and a lot of them had spread into the fields round about, and
were taking a nap in the shade.
My foot was better. I had painted it with tincture of iodine that
morning and the day before.
I got out of the village without any difficulty. A sentry, far from
stopping me, asked me for some tobacco.
A hill near by attracted me. I hoped to get a good view of the
surrounding country from the top. My ideas on the topography of
the neighbourhood were singularly confused. I knew the distance
60. from Orne to Verdun, 18 km. 7., and I was inclined to think the
Valley of the Meuse must lie somewhere near to southwards.
My walk was not at all satisfying. From the summit I had aimed at, I
could see nothing but another ridge, crowned with a dark fringe of
trees. There was no outlet through which I could get a view. I came
back, tired and disappointed. Up there I had tried for a moment to
give rein to my imagination. Here is my country—Lorraine, I said to
myself, and I looked in vain for that serene melancholy, that
voluptuous calm, in the landscape.... It was obviously yet another
example of poetic exaggeration. It was not unpleasing country, but it
was more like—oh, anything you like to name, Perche, or the
country round Paris.
I went back. On the way I heard myself hailed from behind a hedge.
It was Playoust's voice. I went up and found the whole set of
sergeants from the 22nd. De Valpic alone was missing. I was
surprised to catch sight of Guillaumin, with cards in his hands.
"What! You don't mean to say you're playing?" I said.
"Yes, they're teaching me!"
He explained with great gusto that they had come to fetch him to
make up a second four (Frémont was there too). He had no gift for
it. But he was sticking to it all the same. He had already lost one and
threepence!
"And what about you, old boy? Do you know their blooming game?"
"Yes," I replied coolly, "but it doesn't appeal to me, you know!"
I did not linger. I bore him a grudge. If he was going over to that lot
he was quite at liberty to do so, of course, but he need no longer
count, as a matter of course, on my society—Oh dear, no!
I went to lie down. I yawned. I was bored to tears.
For the sake of something to do I emptied my pockets of their
miscellaneous contents.
61. On pulling out the packet of letter cards which I had brought quite
by chance, I thought: Hello, why shouldn't I write a letter?
But to whom should it be?
Not to my father. I had nothing to tell him.
As for my brother, I had not even got his complete address. I did not
know what company he was in. My brother Victor!... Why should I
be thinking of him particularly just now?... Where was he?...
Somewhere in the Woevre. Not very far from me, no doubt.
What spirits was he in? War was the dream of their life, their goal,
their one passion, to all these soldiers. What a bizarre idea it was.
Simply a case of suggestion! What did they hope for from it, after
all? For the space of a second I had a strikingly clear vision of him,
calm and resolute, with his cap well down over his eyes, issuing his
orders.
The idea again occurred to me of writing to someone—whom I
knew. But I counted on my fingers; it was only three days; and it
would be better to wait until I had something worth writing about.
When I went out again I found myself face to face with Henriot.
"Halloa, how are you getting on, Dreher?" he said.
"Pretty well, sir!"
"Pity we get no papers!"
I saw that he was bursting to have a talk, and, by Jove, it would be
good policy to get on good terms with my immediate chief once and
for all. I need only imitate Playoust; I asked him slyly what he
thought was happening.
He needed no persuasion! He was fully aware of the fact that I had
not been among his audience the day before, and ingenuously
expressed his regret. De Valpic and I, he said, were the two best-
read men in the company. He would so much like to exchange ideas
with us!
62. As for exchanging ideas, all I was aiming at was to get him to trot
his out ... to get at him in that way. At my request he went to fetch
a map of the whole of our eastern frontier.
I led him on to various subjects which I wished to explore, without
taking great pains about it: the composition of our army, the
probable figure of our effectives, our system of fortified towns.
He replied at length, furnishing information collected and classed
without much sense of criticism. He placed the ideas he had gleaned
from the special courses for officers, on the same level with those
picked up in certain technical reviews, and a great number of
commonplaces borrowed from the daily papers.
But he fancied himself particular on the questions of strategy.
The German scheme was done for! Everything was based, you see,
on the complicity or, at all events, the passivity of Belgium. They had
concentrated four army corps in their camps in advance, Trèves,
Malmédy, Atles-Lager. They would have hurled them simultaneously
on to the left bank of the Meuse, and they could have gone straight
ahead across the flat country. In five days they would have been in
the Scheldt, on the way to Valenciennes. They would have reached
the valley of the Oise, and from there have gone on to Paris. And it
might quite likely have succeeded!...
He warmed to his subject.
They came to grief. The Belgians have demolished forty thousand
men, a whole army corps. The English have had time to land, and
we to fall into line. And what do you say to our retort in Alsace the
other day? We are getting the entire control of affairs into our
hands.
His forefinger indicated Mulhouse.
Look, we're back there again and firmly based there, for good,
believe me! It's obviously ours. Take Strassburg? No, not at once.
Invest it perhaps, that's all. But push straight on across the Rhine.
It's not so easy, but we should spare nothing in order to do that!
63. Just think! Once past the Rhine all we should have to do would be to
go straight ahead, and cut Germany in half. Separate the Northern
Provinces under Prussia, from Bavaria, which is not nearly so
antagonistic to us really, and the Russians, after having taken
Cracow and Prague, will soon be shaking hands with us!
He stopped talking and wiped his forehead. Gazing at his map he
seemed to regret that it did not include the theatre of to-morrow's
victories.
I gazed at him with surprise and mistrust. But he seemed so sure of
his ground! I knew these theories were current in higher military
circles. These daring anticipations reminded me of those expressed
so many times in my presence by my father and brother.
How the thought of Victor pursued me! I could not restrain myself
from mentioning him.
"Oh! What is he in?" said Henriot.
"The 161st St. Mihiel."
"A crack regiment that!"
"Have they been in action yet?"
"Probably!"
"And what about us?" I said. "Do you think we shall soon be
engaged?"
"I should hardly think so. What is there ahead of us? Luxembourg.
They violated it on August 2nd. A lot of good it did them! Their
offensive turned northwards. Now they've got to defend themselves.
I don't think they'll attempt anything much against the Stenay gap. I
don't think we're much exposed!"
So much the better! I thought.
"I personally should have liked to fight in this part of the country."
"Do you come from near here?"
"Yes, from Villers-sur-Meuse, about fifty miles from here."
64. He added a few details. It was only his second post, and he asked
for nothing better than to stay there as long as possible. His father
had been master there before him, and was buried there.
We are Lorrains, you see, that's why I made such a point of being in
the reserves.
I asked him naïvely if he had ever thought of war.
"What! We never thought of anything else!"
I suddenly recognised in him, the obstinacy and exaltation which
had surprised me, as a child, in the inhabitants of Emberménil.
I had honestly forgotten that such rancour survived. After more than
forty years! Revenge then was not simply an abstract pretext, it
corresponded actually, to a desire, a hatred! The old furnace still
threw out sparks in the new generation capable of setting the
conflagration alight at any moment.
I could not help blaming this fury. The stupid dislike of resignation
and discretion, of that which constituted men's happiness.
Did I not, however, vaguely envy this impassioned tone and face?
Why did I announce:
"I'm a Lorrain too, you know!"
"Really?" he said; "Oh well, I had suspected it, just from your name.
What part do you come from?"
I told him. He was delighted. He had relations round about Lunéville.
"We are the only ones in the platoon. That ought to make us good
friends, what?"
I felt that he was moved. I pretended to be. But I was chilled again.
I only thought like the other evening, under my father's gaze: "I a
Lorrain! In what am I a Lorrain?" And the idea that I should have
brothers and foes, just because I was born on this side, and not on
that side of a certain line, seemed to me grotesque.
65. It was about time for "cookhouse door" to go. Our card-players
reappeared. I enjoyed first their surprise, then their only thin-veiled
annoyance. It was particularly aggravating for the schoolmasters.
Henriot, with his hand on my shoulder, was talking to me as to an
intimate confidant. They began to wander round, anxious to
interrupt us, but withheld from doing so by their deeply-rooted
respect for rank.
Great Heavens! if I had guessed what would put an end to our
conversation!
Henriot stopped abruptly in the middle of a sentence.
"Hsh! What's that...?"
"That dull distant rumble...."
The men scattered about in the road and in the yard, were listening
intently. Corporal Bouguet who was passing muttered:
"No, it can't be...?"
It began again, like the echo of a peal of thunder....
Then the subaltern pronounced the word I had expected:
"The guns!"
"What?"
It ran along repeated from mouth to mouth. The guns! The guns! I
shuddered with physical anguish. A battle in progress over there,
quite near by, which I felt would draw us in and swallow us up. The
guns! Were they the ones which would make a pulp of my body?
Guillaumin suddenly appeared and seized me by the arm.
"My heart's beating. How queer it is!"
I was stupid enough to swagger.
"It reminds me of the Camp of Châlons!"
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