After "Beauclair" things got even worse. We only caught scraps of their declamations because they put on the soft pedal when they saw us coming, just as they did with the officers. Playoust among others was particularly good at posing as an excellent fellow who was never put out by anything. But out of the reach of "tell-tales" and "busy-bodies," their evil tongues wagged busily.
It was sickening! they declared. The commanding officers were the outside limit! According to them our brigadier-general, an old Colonial, drank. The colonel was the kind of man to get us all hacked to pieces for the sake of keeping up his reputation for bravery. They gave us to understand they were delighted to see him wounded, and they would have been even more so if he had not been replaced by that old "dug-out." For that matter, you only need look at the result in order to see what our leaders were! Hopeless! If we weren't done for we deserved to be. Marches and counter-marches, bad management. We could hold the Bosches when we got them to grips. There was nothing to beat a French soldier! But as for preparation. Blimey! The slackers who had to look after that! Descroix cast up his eyes, swearing that those responsible would be found among the old ministers and present deputies. He foretold retaliation in the shape of lawsuits, or riots. Why was there such a lack of heavy artillery, of machine-guns, of searchlight apparatus, and armoured cars? Why did we see nothing of the aeroplanes whose praises we had had drummed into our ears for years?
We were getting near to all the senseless recriminations of 1870. But they were not quite so serious this time, in spite of everything. They did not accuse Poincaré of having been bribed, or Joffre of being a traitor. They did not even go so far as to say that this war was absurd or unjust. We had to defend ourselves, after all! The most bitter complaints were of incompetence, and of the lack of foresight. Enough to be demoralising!
They made tremendous fun of Ravelli and his fears, which they shared at the bottom. Especially the spies! They passed on their superstitious terror to their men. There could be nothing more depressing for them than to feel they were surrounded by a vague throng of enemies. It was like asking for hysterics. I remember how on the morning we were guarding part of the Meuse, a group of refugees from Montmédy came up, a family of five, including two children who implored us to help them across. They were fortunate in finding us. We showed them a ford and had them taken to the C.O. A little farther up the poor wretches had come across some men out of Playoust's platoon, who had insulted them and threatened to shoot them.
And then there were the false reports, the pseudo-news, invented or rumoured, but always bad: Italy entering the lists against us, or England's dilatoriness. We should have to pay damages! Or else, one way of getting out of it would be to leave our friends, the Russians, in the lurch. Not a thing to boast about, perhaps! But it would cut short this war, and they were fed up with it!
I am not exaggerating. They descended to these depths of ignominy. They were more at ease with De Valpic who slept with them, and he reported similar conversations. It did not do to attach too much importance to it. There was probably a good deal of "side" about it. They were so jealous of us. Or perhaps they thought it fine to pose, on their side, as people who were not to be humbugged, or again it might be simply the inconsequence of men who did not quite realise the situation, or the meaning of their words. Each of them egged the others on.
And to think—De Valpic inclined to the idea—that they were without doubt excellent Frenchmen, who, when it came to getting killed, would do the thing in style!
In any case nothing exasperated Guillaumin like their attitude. He announced his intention of going to the C.O. to get him to put an end to the scandal, at least twenty times. We restrained him, being opposed to all tale-telling. We endeavoured to prove to him that their wild talk had no effect. Playoust had had the reputation of being a wag ever since the beginning. None of the men would take his nonsense seriously.
Guillaumin did not give in: