He got into a great state of mind. What a shame it was to have to see such valuable material wasted. We had no leaders.
"In the 22nd anyhow!"
We were agreed on that point.
Who would have believed that our captain had not yet put in an appearance, though his arrival had been announced several times. The first lieutenant Delafosse, a middle-aged man, cold and correct, confined himself to questions of administration. As for the others, Henriot, whom we had come across on the first day, we soon placed as an elementary schoolteacher. Yet another of them! Rather a refined-looking man, but his accent left much to be desired. He taught, we heard, in a village near the Meuse. He meant well no doubt, but was woefully lacking in authority and initiative. His two colleagues, Descroix and Humel, had soon monopolised him, and were hail-fellow-well-met with him. He made himself very pleasant and attentive to us, and was obviously anxious to make a good impression. When he had to give an order he seemed apologetic about it:
"I refer the matter to you ... you know all about that as well as I do!"
Ravelli, the battalion sergeant-major, a good-looking dog, who had been decorated, added his own failings to those indispensable to his calling! An insufferable bounder! Stupid and pretentious; a real bad lot.... He grovelled to the officers and bullied the men shamefully. He did not quite dare to attack us openly, and we could see he appreciated our powers of retaliation. But the poor poilus in the ranks!
It was nothing but parades and roll-calls and inspections with this low-bred cur at their heels from morning till night, an endless stream of fatigues. The tactlessness of the man! The Parisian groused. Lamalou already refused flatly to obey him; and Judsi made no bones about exclaiming, "The bloody beast, 'e'd better look out for 'isself w'en we get our ammunition."
Such were our superior officers. The trio lacked breadth of mind. Breton, the quartermaster-sergeant was acting company sergeant-major, as we had not a pukka one.
Three more non-commissioned officers had now been added to the company. Hourcade, a bank clerk in civil life, a dull dog, and meticulous to a fault. Belloeil, a butcher from Marais, with very high colouring,—a good sort, so obese that they had given up trying to clothe him. He declared his intention of staying behind as drill sergeant to the raw recruits. And lastly Playoust. He was a character, this Chartres fishmonger. A fine figure of a man, a rake with the gift of the gab, he was addicted to "talking big," and did not lack a sense of humour. His bragging amused me. A gay dog, he boasted that he accepted ... hospitality in town every night, but never two nights from the same hostess. He assured us that there was a large choice. Where on earth?... Why of course among the wives of the regulars who had left on the day of mobilisation.
Guillaumin had not much taste for this class of bragging. Nor I, for that matter, but I recognised in this popular cynicism a kindred spirit to my own. And then Playoust made up to me and always liked to count me among his audience when he was playing the fool. It was no time before he had gained a singular hold over a certain set of our comrades. Were we there to be bored? He organised "manilles" in which Descroix and Humel and Hourcade took part from the beginning. Quartermaster Belloiel took a hand when wanted. Guillaumin loathed cards. As to the others they were left out of it. I was never asked to make a fourth. But I saw that it was in my own interest to remain on good terms with the whole lot.... There did not seem to me very much difficulty about that; ... I had bought cigars to give away. I wasted a whole afternoon in this colourless society. Playoust was in good form that day. We kept up a cross-fire of witticisms, he and I.... It was up to the others to do the laughing. Everything went well!