we expected to be picked up by the battalion that same morning, to continue the march. nothing came of it. we were simply relieved about two o'clock by the 2nd platoon.
annoyance on the part of henriot. he questioned lieutenant delafosse who succeeded him. the latter knew nothing about it, nothing at all! he was yawning. he noted the sentry's orders with a bored expression.
we rejoined the rest of the company at the farm where they remained in support of the outposts. for the first time in four days i was able to indulge in a wash and a change of linen. the joy of it. bouillon rolled my things up into a parcel and carried them off. he was left busy all the afternoon washing, cleaning, and brushing them, while i slept on the straw.
when i woke guillaumin announced:
"i say, we're going a bust this evening!"
he and breton had been to "get round" the farmer's wife, who for a comparatively moderate sum had consented to hand over a couple of fine rabbits.
"how many of us will there be for them?"
"eight.... no; nine, with the sergeant-major."
[pg 266]
oh "that lot" was going to join us? yes, guillaumin, who bore no grudge, had invited them. he explained that we would go shares; it would come cheaper like that!
"haven't i done right?"
i gave my approval. i liked to think it might be the beginning of a renewal of cordiality.
guillaumin had introduced gaufrèteaux to the farmeress, who having quickly known him for what he was, a real virtuoso of the frying-pan and casserole, had given him a free hand. she had no reason to repent it, as she was invited to join us and share the feast. rabbit à la bordelaise, a cro?te aux champignons, and ham à la proven?ale reminded her of the cheer at her sister's wedding.
playoust had persuaded her to bring out some wine. it was pronounced excellent. much flattered, she announced her intention of giving it to us free of charge. we cheered her. we touched glasses again and again, and drank to the health of her boy, who had left on the third day of mobilisation to join her father, one of the heroes of the year '70, in the zouaves. i am not sure that we did not drink to the health of her deceased husband.
the wag of the evening was playoust. there was no denying that the fellow was really funny when he liked. he hummed and sang and imitated the calls of animals. and between times he got hourcade to take some powdered chalk thinking it was castor sugar, and an egg, taken from a setting hen, in an egg cup (the chicken was in it!).
i forget how it was that he came to jeer, in pretty strong terms too, at henriot. humel immediately backed him up; the battalion sergeant-major, who had[pg 267] drunk rather more than was wise, let him have his say, and winked, and even went as far as to put in a word himself. the poor lieutenant was laughed at for his strategical pretensions, in a really unkind manner. i was surprised. i should have thought that he would have found grace at the hands of these fellows for whom he was always doing good turns. oh, ah! grace! playoust went off on a new tack, and talked of his behaviour under fire. it was grotesque. beat everything! he had let his platoon go hang, had chucked himself into a hole, and left the others to get along as best they could.
he raised howls of laughter, and by jove, i joined in. there was some truth in what he said after all. guillaumin alone protested vigorously and courageously but unfortunately he embarked upon a verbose vindication which tended to prove that true courage consists precisely in being afraid....
"listen to the staff-officer!"
he was hooted and pelted with bread pellets, and finally reduced to silence. dessert time. the bottles went on circulating. the wine had gone to my head. i hazarded a few facile pleasantries, which were greeted with roars of laughter, which spurred my malice on to further efforts. i set myself to rival playoust's buffoonery. he gained a momentary advantage by imitating the various phases of a pig fight. we had to go to the help of the farmeress who was choking with laughter. then i played the ventriloquist, one of my parlour tricks. i gave a three-part scene. our hostess again grew hysterical, and a dish was broken.
i felt occasional twinges of remorse in the midst of all this folly. all this gaiety the day after a cruel[pg 268] loss!... but what did it matter? had i not mourned my brother as he would have liked to be mourned? this death already seemed such an old story.... and lastly i privately thought that i had acquired a sort of right to give proof of a versatile disposition ... violent and fleeting feelings, tears yesterday, and joy to-day. was it not the prerogative of soldiers and children?
we spent several days at this farm. every evening when we went to sleep, we expected to have to turn out and start off in the middle of the night. henriot was eaten up with impatience, and repeated:
"it's madness not to profit by our advantage! we ought to be near trèves by now!"
he calmed down at last. the captain had laughed at him, and reminded him of endless circumstances in military history, where prudence had dictated an identical line of conduct, which was to recover oneself before entering upon a new enterprise.
besides that there was a complete lack of any news: not a word of the development of the action in alsace-lorraine. we only had the impression of a general movement of our armies towards the belgian frontier. a big blow would be struck in the north! from time to time i amused myself by goading guillaumin. how were we getting on over there, i wondered.
he no longer took me seriously, or else retorted:
"my dear chap, we only have to hold out for three weeks. the russians will be coming along now!"
again one might have thought we were at man?uvres. the spirit of the men was extraordinary. the fight the other day, the wounded and dead—all[pg 269] that was forgotten, or rather it was taken as a basis for fearing nothing from the future. they took a delight in repeating that the worst was over. artillery, machine-guns, and rifles had all talked at the same time. the bosches could not invent anything worse.
i have said that i was on good terms now with the poilus in my section, but i was not intimate with them yet. i made a few tentative advances. i asked one or two of them about their family, or their home life. they answered me politely, but did not expand. i had the feeling that i embarrassed, almost disquieted, them; so i soon stopped. there was no need to bother myself.
the most complete idleness reigned. the battalion sergeant-major no longer multiplied parades. he, ravelli, had changed in the most extraordinary way since he had been under fire. he took no interest in anything and left his men to themselves. he may have heard—it was breton who insinuated it—french bullets whistling past his ears!
the lamalou-judsi lot organised fishing parties at a pond close to the farm. no notice was taken for the first two days; on the third day they brought back a cartload of fish, having been inspired with the brilliant idea of stretching a net from one side to the other. they had cleared everything. the farmeress protested that the pond belonged to her. the captain lost his temper and threatened the beggars with court martial. they did not haul down their colours. things were getting serious. lamalou clenched his fist.
"i've been through the court martial once before now, i 'ave. i'll tell 'em it's a bit rough on a chap wot's going to get knocked on the 'ead."
[pg 270]
i privately agreed with him. playoust secretly encouraged him, just to see what would happen. as for guillaumin, he took the defaulters apart, and reasoned with them. i don't know what he preached or promised, but the fact was that he appeased them. he went off to see the captain and disarmed him too. the matter went no further.
but that evening at mess he gave playoust a bit of his mind. the latter, surrounded by his faithful satellites, answered back and had the last word.
i had kept out of it. it was my turn next morning. i found the whole lot collected round the well, disputing violently.
"what's up?" i asked.
descroix shouted:
"did you ever hear such a thing! this'll be the third day that the company has taken outpost duty."
no. 1 platoon had just been told that it was their turn to supply no. 2 picket. they had been congratulating themselves upon getting out of it. hence their rage!
"always the same lot to fork out."
playoust headed them:
"it's disgustin' that's wot it is. there's the bally 21st there doin' nothing. wy can't they send them?"
i ventured to remark:
"you've not been overdone so far."
i laughed.
"outpost duty has its interesting moments."
they fell upon me, and in such a tone!
"oh, dreher ... on other people's worries...!"
i retorted. there was a sudden torrent of bitter words, of almost injurious reproaches. yes, yes, they had seen me at it! then they brought up their[pg 271] eternal grievances at f——. descroix accused me of toadying to the lieutenant.
oh! i turned on my heel. i was stupefied, sickened at this persistent animosity after our brotherly agape, the other day. what paltry minds they had!
