—2—
At Nancy we heard that the Rainbow Division had occupied Sedan and the Germans were suing for peace.
A letter from Clark caught up with me here. He had been promoted. It was Major Clark Winstead now. But he was worried lest he be sent away on some mission of some kind that would keep us from meeting again over here.... That would be the last straw. Leon in the hospital and Clark away off somewhere, and Ben not here to stick by me.... I was sick of it all: just sick and discouraged and homesick and lovesick and just sick. And I couldn’t get rid of that crazy tune Ben used to sing: Sacré nom de nom de nom. I couldn’t walk around the block without my head ringing from it. It had a rhythm that wouldn’t be stilled.
CHAPTER 20
The Tail of the Tale
—1—
The War was over, and I was glad. There was no fun in this army game now that Ben was not here. I didn’t know what to do with myself. The new man was a good fellow, I guess, but it didn’t seem natural for him to be in Ben’s place, and I just couldn’t be more than casually friendly to him. I’d be glad to go home and get away from all this. I had had enough. More than enough.
We were at Nancy when the Armistice was announced. We stood at the window in the General’s hotel room, overlooking one of the main public squares, and watched the milling crowds stumble around in confusion, as if they wanted to celebrate but didn’t know how. At first nobody would believe that this four-years’ struggle had really ended. Men and women just stood about and stared dumbly at one another, wondering if it could be true.
Later, however, they did begin to celebrate. The cafés put the contents of their shelves upon the bars, every house door was opened and had “Welcome” written all over it, mademoiselles threw their arms around every man they met, strong men drank and wept for pure joy and women wept tears of gladness and sorrow all mixed in together. It was a gala day by mid-afternoon and I imagine every little village felt the exhilaration of the long-hoped-for moment quite as much as did Paris and Tours, Lyons and Marseilles.
That afternoon the General watched the surging mob of men and women of various nationalities welcoming the news in the square. People were beginning to get hilarious and drunken soldiers were being caressed by every woman that passed. I was feeling aglow with some kind of happiness that I couldn’t quite define: there was a lump in my throat most of the day. Chilblaines was obviously tickled to death with the prospect of an early return to his home.... And then the General observed slowly, “Let them celebrate and enjoy themselves while they can! The poor creatures do not realize that the part of this business that’s to come will be worse in some ways than what has gone before. It will be years and years of toil and confusion and misunderstanding and suspicion and squabbling before the peace and happiness and security which they are celebrating will be actually in their possession.... After a war like this, the peace is usually harder to stand than the war was.... Let them rejoice when they are assured that there will be no more wars! This war may be just the beginning....”
This declaration coming from the General served to dampen our spirits a little, but before the evening had come I slipped away and tried to join in the celebrating.... But there was no fun in it for me. I just couldn’t be gay, no matter how hard I tried. I drank wine and even a sip of cognac, but the something inside that controls your feelings just refused to click. The more revelry I witnessed and the more hilarity that surged about me, the more poignant came my memories of Ben. How he would have loved this! He would have been in his glory in this mad multitude!