FOOTNOTES:
[10] Trench vernacular for wine.
[11] Coffee—Tr.
[12] Jean Gouin is the personification of everything witty, brave and odd about the Marine Fusiliers, the French soldiers of the sea. One of them is always referred to as Jean Gouin. The Germans learned to respect him very deeply in the first days of the war.—Tr.
[13] Singe—literally monkey. Vernacular for canned beef or meat.—Tr.
[14] Petite Marmite—Soup cooked and served in a small earthenware or metal receptacle or pot. Also, term used for German shell of big caliber.—Tr.
[CHAPTER FOUR]
FIRST VISIT TO VERDUN
Sub-Lieutenant Capart left the Flanders' sector for good. He arrived at Verdun during the first days of October.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE FANCIFUL IDEA OF MAJOR PETIT, VERDUN.
October, 1915.
In the middle of the month of October, 1915, I was invited to dinner by General Coutanceau, Governor of Verdun.
Verdun, at this particular time, still retained its aspect of a little garrison city in times of peace, and, when I entered Bevaux Barrack, I felt far away from the war——
I found Colonel Masselin who awaited me in his office, busy as was his habit and who rose precipitately on seeing me enter the room.
"There you are—it is fine! The general is home and it is the hour to sit at table—he does not like to be late."
Some moments after, I was in the presence of the Governor of Verdun, a man very big, very cold, with a severe and glacial face.
We immediately entered the dining-room with its barren walls like those of a school-room, but brightened by a great wood fire, which burned joyously on the hearth.
We sat down and the general placed me at his side; the menu was excellent and the wines perfect. My neighbor, in spite of his severe mask, was a very fine and spirited conversationist, also this dinner, I felt, was for me a real luxury, inasmuch as I had the pleasure of finding myself in the company of this man of esprit.
One spoke naturally of the war and I stated that in my opinion this epoch did not resemble the others from the point of view of the relations that could exist between two adversaries in the course of hostilities. In effect, it was our custom in youth to recite of truce-parties who came with bandaged eyes into enemy lines to make one or another communication to the commander of the adverse troops.
I added that the perfection of the art of destruction had killed the romantic side of war and that it was very regrettable.
The general protested, remarking that adventurous examples were not lacking, and as far as he was concerned, he was able to relate a story within his knowledge that was worth the trouble of telling.
This is what he told us and to which we all listened with very great silence.
Some months before war was declared, one of my old friends on his death bed urgently recommended his son to me.
The young Count de Marnac was a worthy youngster, and to his misfortune—and to mine—he was a Camelot du Roi.[15]
Nevertheless, a boy very daring and full of the best sentiments. I was convinced he would be an excellent soldier. Sergeant in a regiment of infantry, he fought like a lion in the Belgian campaign and immediately distinguished himself. His colonel proposed him for a sub-lieutenant and I transmitted the request to General Sarrail, under whose orders I then was.
Was it for political opinions or for some other reason, I know nothing of it, but the propositions I received from his colonel and which I hastened to send to the General, were held without reply——
So, during the battle of the Marne, the Division to which my protégé belonged was on the right bank of the Meuse; I came, as you know, to be completely surrounded by the Germans for a period of forty-eight hours.
From that moment, I depended no longer on General Sarrail, from whom I was totally cut off.
So, an old order authorized generals commanding a besieged or surrounded spot to nominate officers up to a certain rank.
Having still in mind the last recommendation of young de Marnac, I hastened to send him his brevet of sub-lieutenant.
Up to here there is nothing romantic in my story, but you will see how this animal recompensed me for my kindness.
During the month of November, 1914, his Division was engaged in murderous fighting.
He had a battalion chief, named Petit, known in his regiment for his lack of mental equilibrium. He always had ideas more or less strange and fanciful, and he always caused comment by his eccentricities and his bizarreries.
I had ordered an operation to commence in the morning of the 15th, and Petit told all his men, before the attack, that he would give one dollar for every pair of German trousers they brought to him!
Do not laugh, he had more extravagant ideas than that!
The attack was successful and our poilus struck a hard blow; they took numerous prisoners and reaped a mountain of trousers!
This sight was absolutely grotesque; the boches did not know what we wanted with them and this "kilty" disguise did not go well with them at all.
Petit, himself, was literally jubilant, splitting his sides with laughter before the German column about to start for the rear trouser-less.
Lieutenant de Marnac was furious, because he could not admit he carried on war in this manner and took it upon himself to go into the German lines, on a truce, and present his excuses to the general commanding the Division in front.
He fixed a white handkerchief on the end of his cane, took a bugler with him and calmly started out toward the enemy trenches.
All went well enough; the Germans bandaged his eyes and as he conveniently spoke the language, he asked the first officer he met to be conducted into the presence of the general of that Division.
The latter lived in a little village ten miles back of the lines so de Marnac's journey was long enough.
He did not arrive, until darkness had fallen, at the farm which served as headquarters of the boche general.
The general was at dinner when they presented our young man to him. He received him courteously and spoke French to him, but with difficulty.
"Sit down—what have you to say to me?"
And turning toward the young girl who served him, he added, "Mademoiselle, will you place another cover for the lieutenant? Monsieur, I listen."
"General, I am the interpreter for General Coutanceau, Governor of Verdun, and have come to present his excuses for an event that occurred to-day.
"This morning, in course of the attack at Consenvoie Wood, a French battalion major ordered his soldiers to cut the suspenders of all German prisoners they might take and to bring him the trousers, in return for which they would receive a dollar.
"Matters happened this way: our soldiers cut numerous suspenders, removing quite a few trousers from your infantrymen——
"The Governor General charges me to tell you he deplores this act as being unchivalrous and to present to you his excuses and his regards."
The boche general turned crimson because he had misunderstood de Marnac and when the latter had spoken of "cut suspenders" he certainly imagined some enormous thing——
He showed by his nervousness the lack of linguistic knowledge he possessed. He called an interpreter and it was explained to him.
He found then that the reason for the truce was very decent and his face flushed with pleasure.
During all this scene the little girl, who incessantly busied herself about the table and who had not lost a word, bit her lips to keep from giggling.
Dinner over, de Marnac requested of the German general that he be allowed to retire.
He got up and the general charged him with a thousand pleasant sentiments for me——
At the moment when he stepped out the door the little girl was lying in wait for him and whispered in his ear:
"We count on you for Victory!"
On leaving the German general's headquarters, his eyes were bandaged and he and his bugler were led back into our lines.
Having reached his post, he made out a complete report of what had taken place and forwarded it to me by the usual channels.
Judge my astonishment on reading the pamphlet, I cried:
"They are absolutely crazy, both of them? Ought to be put in a strait jacket."
Then, I thought immediately of the scandal this story would stir up and the consequences which would follow. I was absolutely astounded.
After having reflected for some time, I sent this report to General Sarrail—without comment, naturally, and then I awaited the tempest.
The storm broke!—Sarrail got me on the telephone and called me a lot of pretty names. He was furious, and I swear he had reason——
"Your protégé is doing nicely, I compliment you!—--"
"Yes, general, he is completely crazy——"
"You will have that fellow executed immediately——"
"You forget the story of the trousers, general——"
"It was a fine idea of yours to appoint him sub-lieutenant, I compliment you——"
"There is also the story of the trousers, general——"
General Sarrail sent Sub-Lieutenant de Marnac's report to great headquarters. Major Petit and de Marnac were arrested immediately and things were going entirely wrong——
I was able, nevertheless, to save the young fool, by repeating this:
"Yes, but there is the story of the trousers!"
Finally, Petit and de Marnac were given thirty days confinement, and I commenced to breathe.
You believe my story to be ended? Not at all! The most important episode was not long in coming, to my very great confusion.
January 1, 1915, at the break of day and in the same sector that the foregoing events transpired, a German lieutenant advanced toward our lines with a white flag and a bugler.
The officer carried an immense package under his arm, which was wrapped in pasteboard.
They bandaged the eyes of both and led them into our lines.
Conducted to the colonel, the boche lieutenant announced he had a communication to make to me. They reached me on the telephone and I gave the order to send him on.
I waited impatiently for an hour, I swear, and I was far from imagining what was coming——
The young man was brought into my office; he was a large and solid chap, who planted himself in front of me and saluted with respect.
"I listen——"
With a strong Teutonic accent he said to me in French:
"His Imperial Highness, the German Crown Prince, commander of the opposing army, has charged me to bring you this package!—--"
I slowly untied the string that bound the package, in which I found a framed photograph of the German Crown Prince and in the corner he had likewise written in French:
"To my loyal and chivalrous adversary! William, Crown Prince of Germany."
I was absolutely nonplused and I dismissed the boche lieutenant, whom I was on the verge of cursing.
"And the portrait?" I asked General Coutanceau——
"I forwarded it by the usual military channels. General Sarrail did not fail to notice the outcome, but I never knew what became of the picture——"
Turning toward me with his rare smile:
"You will agree that this story is a veritable romance!"
RECOMPENSE, BEFORE ORNES.
October, 1915.
All night we have worked in No Man's Land.
What a night!
We had to install certain wire entanglements and chevaux de frise[16] in front of our trench of the first line.
Happily the boche mitrailleuse in front of Moulin d'Ornes did not fire; otherwise we would have been riddled!
My men went at it vigorously and all the work had been terminated—I had divided them into several gangs and had recommended the new wire network be placed parallel to the old.
I went over the entire line to survey the work and to observe the patrols who protected the men ahead of the trenches.
One of my gangs just missed causing us a villainous adventure! They stumbled on some wire, which by shell-fire had been thrown out of line, and following it, they had worked directly toward the enemy——
They had placed their chevaux de frise one after the other and I stopped stupefied on making this discovery. I had for a moment the impression that my men had been picked up by the boches. Fortunately not a shot had been heard and I said to myself it would probably be possible to repair the error committed.
First it was necessary to find my poilus——
I followed the line of chevaux de frise, my revolver in hand. Thus I arrived a few yards from the boche wire entanglements. My men were not there and it was likely they had gone taking the material to the village. An hour later I found them and started them again on the work.
All the rest of the night passed without incident——
At daybreak I brought my workers and patrols back to Ornes, all satisfied with the work accomplished. On reaching the cantonment I said to them:
"Mes enfants, you have done well to-night and I am very much pleased with you——"
One of the poilus I had known for a long time, replied:
"Can I ask you a favor, lieutenant?"
"Certainly."
"Since you are pleased with us, we all would like to have god-mothers!"
"It is understood—you will have them!"
That is how the squad from Ornes got a very serious contingent of god-mothers to the great happiness of my poilus, who received that winter woolen socks and warm slippers!