"Where are you going?"
"Paris."
"Lucky fellow! When you get there what will give you the greatest pleasure after all the hardships you have endured?"
"A woman's smile!"
THE POILU WHO NEVER SMILES, VERDUN.
March, 1916.
This morning I was with a group of soldiers, laughing and joking with them. The newspapers had brought us good news and our joy manifests itself in loud bursts of laughter——
A man was seated aside from the others and had an absent and gloomy look. My attention had been drawn immediately by the expression of despair which one could easily read on his features. I lowered my voice and said:
"Look, sergeant, what is the matter with that poilu? He cannot enjoy himself and laugh like the others? His face is drawn and pale! Can you explain that——"
"Well, lieutenant, one night he had instructions that were not clear and a patrol came back into our lines. He believed it was the boches and fired. He killed a close friend——
"From that time he has always been sad and several times I noticed he cried at night. You will see, one of these days he will do away with himself——"