“Pray for us,” said the men, holding their sweethearts’ hands.
“Attention!” cried the officer, a slim, hectic lieutenant from Lorient.
The mayor handed him the rolls, and the lieutenant, facing the shuffling single rank, began to call off:
“Roux of Bannalec?”
“Here, monsieur—”
“Don’t say, ‘Here, monsieur!’ Say, ‘Present!’ Now, Roux?”
“Present, monsieur—”
“Idiot! Kedrec?”
“That’s right! Penmarch?”