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CHAPTER XVI CAVILLINGS

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as it was my day on duty it fell to me to march the men who had reported sick to the m.o. that morning.

i should have liked to have time to cast an eye over my men's equipment before the captain came to take kit inspection. my mind was not entirely at ease on the subject, when, in passing, i had asked corporal bouguet if he thought it would go all right, he had curtly replied that he couldn't see everything, he hadn't got eyes all over his head.

sick parade naturally promised to take longer than usual. captain ribet had made searching enquiries the day before and consulted the sick lists. he had told of about twenty weaklings to report themselves to the chief medical officer. i had not been surprised to catch sight of de valpic's name on the list which i had been told to hand over.

surgeon-major bouchut, a stout, apoplectic-looking man, arrived in a state of perspiration, and swearing hard began to sound the men's hearts and lungs. he was not very ferocious to-day. he must have had instructions to strike out the good-for-nothings. whenever it was a case of enteritis, rheumatism, or bronchitis he jerked out at me:

[pg 118]

"oh, he'd better stay at the dep?t!"

then, turning to the man, he would growl:

"you'll have to stay behind my lad!"

a well-set-up fellow out of my section came and announced:

"i'm an old trooper, i am!"

"well, what about it?"

"and so i shan't march."

"oh, you think so, do you?"

"i never have marched."

"a good opportunity to learn!"

"it's on account of a slight rupture...."

"let's have a look!"

bouchut felt his groin.

"you wear a truss, do you?"

"yes, sir-r!"

"in that case you can walk round the world!"

"but...."

"off with you! brr! next man now!"

the next one on the list was de valpic. i considered his thin body with all the ribs showing.

"what's the matter with you?" bouchut asked.

"nothing much, sir, but the captain told me to...."

bouchut bent down over him:

"take a deep breath...."

just then a hubbub arose, an orderly was slating a man who had just upset the bottle containing the tincture of iodine.

"can't you keep quiet, confound you!"

but bouchut's attention was again distracted by the arrival of a surgeon-lieutenant. they gossiped for a moment and then returning at last to de valpic, he said:

[pg 119]

"then you don't cough at all?"

"hardly at all, sir."

"do you want to go to the front?"

"certainly, sir."

"very well, then. must not be overdone," he dictated to me.

the examination came to an end. when i went out i came across the man with the rupture again. he was cursing and swearing! "well, if that wasn't a shame! to make an old dragoon, with an illness like that, walk! they were a set of bullies, that's what they were!..." but he'd be even with them yet! he knew a thing or two. the first time they were under fire, he would stagger, and let himself fall. but first, he was going to write to sembat, who was a pal of his.

"switch off loriot!" somebody warned him. "here come the n.c.o.'s!"

i wondered whether i should pack him off to the defaulters' room.... perhaps it would raise my prestige, but i let the opportunity slip by, and finally decided to have heard nothing.

guillaumin came up to me. he was bringing the letters from the barracks and good-naturedly drew my attention to the fact that i was the one who ought to have gone to fetch them. he agreed in addition to be responsible for their distribution. he was rummaging in his pockets.

"there's a post card for you."

a post card really! i was not expecting anything. a few lines from my father and a note from laquarriére, in answer to one i had written him, was all i had received since the beginning.

i looked at the post mark; illegible. i did not[pg 120] recognise the handwriting, it was feminine. i turned to the signature: "jeannine!"

the little landry girl!

what does she think of it all? i wondered, amused. she, who would not hear of war! i remembered our trifling on that railway platform.... what a short time ago it was ... and yet it seemed so long. she had written very closely. i noted her graceful attempt to write me something beyond the usual commonplace remarks. she gave a short description of their railway journey. on hearing the great news, they had gone to geneva (a reassuring atmosphere), and on to paris the day after. since then they had settled down again as well as might be, and without a maid, at st. mandé. but what about me? i was far more interesting! in barracks, no doubt? or perhaps already on my way to the front? they were counting on my being able to let ... friends, know how i was getting on. the card ended with these words, "we think of you a great deal."

i re-read it; i was touched. i would certainly answer this delightful girl very soon! i should have liked to do so at once; but a stupid feeling of bashfulness forbade my seeming in too much of a hurry.

we assembled for the inspection. the men came on to parade, one by one, staggering under their packs, which were continually slipping and having to be hoisted up again, with a jerk of their shoulders. all at once they realised that the inspection was not a mere matter of form. beginning with the first platoon the captain stopped in front of each man.

guillaumin whispered to me:

"his eyes are skinned right enough."

[pg 121]

corporal bouguet continued to look at me sourly. donnadieu, sandy-haired and stolid, when i questioned him, shook his head, and did not seem to want to be answerable for anything either.

we had half-an-hour's wait, which was distinctly unnerving. our turn came at last.

bouguet was examined first and passed as impeccable. thank heaven! and his neighbour, siméon, too. i was beginning to breathe more freely. the captain escorted by the company quartermaster-sergeant stopped in front of paquette, a villager with a blank expression.

"take off your valise. that's right! now open it. let's see your housewife ... and the inside...."

the man cautiously emptied the contents, consisting of three old buttons and some rusty pins, into his hand.

"no needles? or thread?"

"we haven't been given any, sir."

"what's this? they were given out yesterday. what's the meaning of this, sergeant?"

"that's right, sir!" i said.

the captain raised his voice.

"hands up! in the 11th and 12th those who've got no needles or thread."

three or four arms, then seven, eight, ten, were raised.

"extremely important! tears are not rare occurrences in the field, nor are burst buttons. and if you've nothing to mend them with! a pair of trousers which won't keep up, means a man out of action!"

he went on to the next man, judsi!

"got your body belt?"

judsi shook his head grotesquely.

[pg 122]

"don't wear one, sir!"

"did you draw one?"

"yes, sir!"

"what's become of it?"

judsi made a movement expressive of ignorance.

"someone probably nabbed it, sir! seein' as i don't wear one."

the captain turned to me.

"so, you don't see to all this?"

i protested that i had told him....

"told him! told him!... you see the result! when you have ten or fifteen men down with dysentery...!"

he went on to the next. it was done on purpose. here, a shoulder strap had come unsewn, there one or two buttons missing, this képi had no chin-strap, that bayonet was rusty, a certain rifle was not properly cleaned. where was the lantern belonging to no. 11 half-section? and the camp gear! it was quite clear that it had been badly distributed. the captain dropped straight on to the weak spot and emphasised it coldly.

when the non-commissioned officers were collected afterwards, he gave vent to his feelings.

"it's lucky we're not going off this evening! that would be a nice state of affairs! no. 3 platoon is a positive disgrace! i am speaking of section no. 2! sergeant dreher, at one o'clock i shall inspect your half-sections and i can assure you that if anything goes wrong this time!" he twirled his long moustache. i was frightfully annoyed. what irritated me above everything was the ironical satisfaction shown by several of my fellow n.c.o.'s; i tried to excuse myself.

[pg 123]

"it was my day on duty, sir!"

but ravelli interrupted:

"oh, it was you, was it? i wondered who it could be.... you never turned up."

i was filled with a wild desire to fall upon my corporals, but bouguet was waiting for me, bristling with rage. ready to bite his head off i turned upon donnadieu, who put on a vexed, sheepish expression.

i swore at the men roundly, in the approved n.c.o. style. did they think they could snap their fingers at me? getting me cursed like that! so they weren't even capable of appearing in service marching order? so jolly difficult, wasn't it?

"such humbug from a blooming plug!" judsi muttered.

i told them about the supplementary inspection, and moderated my tone in view of their obvious bad temper.

"come along, let's look alive. everyone must do his bit!"

cook-house door had gone. lamalou exclaimed:

"arf a mo'. carn't work on an empty belly."

a long hour elapsed before any one deigned to start work again and even then they did not put their backs into it. i was horrified at the number of dirty mess-tins and water-bottles, of uncleaned boots, and above all, of the fittings missing; sets of "pull throughs" had to be complete in groups of four! stores orders must be got and signed by the company sergeant-major, and the things drawn ... and the time was being frittered away in dawdling and gossiping. i think the knaves did it on purpose. my remarks all fell on deaf ears, whatever tone i adopted—i tried[pg 124] them all! i felt a sort of jeering hostility rising against me which infuriated me, though i did not let them see it.

bouillon luckily lent a hand. having once had the rank of corporal, he still retained a certain hold over his comrades.

he laid himself out and was here, there, and everywhere, lavishing rebukes and fisticuffs.

when captain ribet reappeared at the time arranged everything went well. the inspection was even more minute than it had been in the morning, but this time he found only a few infinitesimal details to criticise.

when he left he said to me:

"aren't you more satisfied?"

i did not answer, but met his remark with the regulation coldness.

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