"No, they are poilus of France!"
THE CHIVALROUS POILUS, CHAMPAGNE.
April, 1917.
We are at the retaken positions on Mont-sans-nom. Colonel Lagarde occupies a sumptuous shelter in which he has extended the hospitality of inviting me to dinner. A bouquet of flowers, sent directly to me from Châlons, has been placed on the table in a shell-made vase.
The Zouaves, who saunter in and out of the colonel's P.C., are visibly astonished——
Convoy of ammunition in Champagne.
They are convinced that it is General Pétain himself who has sent the flowers to their colonel, in recognition of their success the day before——
One after the other the roses disappear, the last ones vanishing petal by petal——
The same day and the next, the 8th Zouaves repelled the enemy counter-attack with rose petals in their button-holes!