Chilblaines laughed and I laughed, too. It wasn’t news to me: I knew I had acquired a family, but I had put off doing anything about it until I could get a bath and a new change of clothes. But when Chilblaines laughed, I determined to do something without further delay.
The General didn’t wait for me to reply; he just suggested, “If you have, Sergeant, for God’s sake get rid of them at once.”
“I will, sir,” I said then.
But Chilblaines had to pipe up and say, “No use trying to clean them out of your clothes. I advise burning them and getting a new outfit—that is, if you can afford it.”
Now, imagine an officer making a crack like that! As if I couldn’t afford clothes just as well as he could! The way he said things gave me the willies anyway, and I just looked hard at him and said, “That’s what I’ll do this very afternoon, if I have time.”
“Take time,” said the General.
So when we were back in camp I proceeded to take time. I went into the city in search of a public bath where one could get a private bath. I carried with me a complete change of clothes and two kinds of medicine and a bluish ointment that was recommended by Ben and every other man whose advice I sought. I finally found a bath establishment and went in.
A woman who had the appearance of age but the manner of girlish youth welcomed me at the door and ushered me into the rear of the building, where there were several little rooms just large enough for a bathtub. The woman chattered glibly as she wiped out the tub I chose and drew the water, and when she brought the towels and soap she made no move toward leaving me to take care of myself.
I started to undress, beginning with my shoes and blouse. She hung up the blouse and pushed the door shut. I didn’t take off anything else, but just sat there on the stool and looked at her. Finally, when she didn’t move, I said, “That’s all for now, thank you.”
All I got for my pains was a stream of French, telling me how nice it was to meet a fine young American boy who could speak such good French.