Battles & Bivouacs: A French Soldier's Note-Book
Battles & Bivouacs: A French Soldier's Note-Book
By Jacques Roujon
5 Mar, 2019
Excerpt.......
Tuesday, 11th August, 1914.
Five o'clock in the morning. En route for the Gare de l'Est. All the same, as I turn the corner of the street in which I live, I experience a feeling of heartrending distress. I stop and glance back. T
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Excerpt.......
Tuesday, 11th August, 1914.
Five o'clock in the morning. En route for the Gare de l'Est. All the same, as I turn the corner of the street in which I live, I experience a feeling of heartrending distress. I stop and glance back. Then I wave my hand to the window. Bah! I shall come back.
It is a fine, sunny day. There are crowds of people in front of the station—men of every description, most of them wearing caps, but no shirt-collar, some with musettes slung over the shoulder, others carrying a valise. A few belonging to the ranks are wearing uniforms quite out of date. Any amount of bustle and noise but no shrieks. Those who stay behind remain with cheeks glued to the iron railings, their eyes fixed on some particular individual until he is out of sight.
On the platform I come across Verrier, a friend I have known all my life: at school, in the Latin Quarter, and during my military service. He is a tall, light-complexioned fellow, thin and pallid, very cool and self-possessed.
We find that we are both to be sent to the same depot.
As there are some seats unoccupied in a second-class carriage, we quickly take possession of them, delighted at the prospect of travelling elsewhere than on the floor.
The train begins to move. We look at each other.
"This time things are serious," remarks Verrier. Less