A Soldier of the Legion: An Englishman's Adventures Under the French Flag in Algeria and TonquinManington, George
History
A Soldier of the Legion: An Englishman's Adventures Under the French Flag in Algeria and Tonquin
Manington, George
Algeria -- History; France. Armée. Légion étrangère; Vietnam, Northern -- History
The country here was very much like that of the Delta, which I have
already described. A well-cultivated plain, studded over with villages
hidden in clumps of verdure, and surrounded by tall, graceful bamboos,
which bent and creaked, and whose delicate foliage rustled under the
slightest breeze. The only difference was that here and there were
small hills, some covered with long grass, others with a dense and
luxuriant vegetation, the pleasant aspect of which broke the monotony
of the landscape.
Many of the villages were occupied, and from some of them, as our
little column passed by, the notabilities would come out and make
obeisance, and offer refreshments to our commander. They had accepted
the protection of the French authorities, and paid taxes into the
treasury at Phulang-Thuong; but the mere fact that their village was
not a mass of charred ruins was the best proof that they must also
have been paying toll to De-Nam, and most probably supplying him with
rice. Others of these hamlets openly gave proof of their hostility by
barring the gates before we arrived. An order would be given and a
few men would make a rush for the entrance, pull back the heavy beams
placed one above the other, the ends of which fitted in slots cut in
two massive posts, and break in the ironwood doors beyond.
No one was found in the place, all the inhabitants having escaped
through some exit at the back of the village, generally leading into a
dense jungle, where they hid with all the cattle they had time to drive
before them.
The defences of these hamlets are much stronger and more elaborate than
those of the Delta provinces. A double and sometimes triple embankment
and bamboo hedge surrounds them. Between the first two of these are
numerous deep ponds of stagnant water. Twisting, narrow lanes, just
large enough to allow of the passage of the tame buffalo, divide up the
interior, and make of each thick clay-walled house a veritable citadel.
Leading up to each of the two or three doors, which must be passed to
gain an entrance, are narrow passages through which only one man can
go at a time, and these can be raked from end to end by the fire from
well-placed loopholes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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