A "Temporary Gentleman" in FranceDawson, A. J. (Alec John)
History
A "Temporary Gentleman" in France
Dawson, A. J. (Alec John)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, British
The goodwife at the place I've got for ourselves is a torrential
talker, and in rounding up the boys and girls working on her farm she
shows a bit of a temper; but I'm certain she's a jolly capable manager,
and she has promised to cook for us, which will mean a fine change from
the batman's efforts in that line. Also the billets themselves are
good, those for the men being the best I've seen anywhere: dry as a
chip, and thoroughly sheltered from the wind. We shall be in clover for
our week out, especially as I think ---- is a bit too far back to admit
of our being on trench fatigues at all while out.
I did enjoy the pottering about on my own, and the nearest firing
being three or four miles away all the time, made everything seem
so extraordinarily peaceful after the roaring racket and straining
watchfulness of Cut-Throat Alley; where one's eyes sort of ache from
trying to look all ways at once, and one's ears and head generally
get dead from the effort of recording the precise meaning of each
outstanding roar in the continuous din. Also I met two or three
interesting people, including the Town Major in ----.
I had some grub about one o'clock in a big _estaminet_, almost a
restaurant, really; and it was most interesting, after the trenches,
to listen to the gossip and eat without feeling you had to look out
for anything. There are a number of French residents left in this
place, and this makes it different from the village we were last in,
just behind the line, where the inhabitants have left, and the place
is purely a camp, and partly in ruins at that. This place still has a
natural human sort of life of its own, you know. And there are women in
it, and a priest or two, and cows and sheep, and a town-crier, and that
sort of thing--something fascinatingly human about all that, though it
is within four miles of the firing line.
The café was simply full of rumours and gossip. Military gossip is,
of course, taboo with strangers and civilians, and rightly, since one
cannot be sure who is and who is not a spy. But I suppose there's
no harm in it among people who can recognise each other's uniforms
and badges. Anyhow, I heard a lot to-day, which may or may not have
anything in it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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