After what seemed an eternity of waiting the officers came in. A fat surgeon, an assistant and my lieutenant. I would have given something to have asked this doctor why in all the world these men could not be given a bath before examination.... First the doctor pointed at me. "Undress!" While I was undressing, the officers kept whispering together, very softly, but I could hear that they were talking about me, and that the lieutenant said something about "Officier Allemand." I smiled as I listened. It was very funny to be taken for a quondam German officer. I suppose they took me for a deserter; it certainly must have been rather an unusual event to find a well-dressed man enlisting in the Legion. The well-dressed man felt annoyed at this curiosity, this openly shown pity. It was absolute torture to me. How very ridiculous it all was--I fumbled at my watch-chain, trying to take off the little gold sovereign-case in order to open my waistcoat--I fumed at the stares of the officers who should have been gentlemen.... The looks of the doctor said plainly: "Humph, the fellow actually wears fine underclothes!" Why should they stare at me? Had I not the same right as these other poor devils to go to perdition in my own way? Why should they make it so hard for me in particular? Then I understood how human their curiosity was, and how ridiculous my irritability. The first step was made. I began slowly to understand what it meant to enlist in the Foreign Legion as a last refuge. I stood there naked before the médecin major, who adjusted his eye-glass as if he had a good deal of time to spare, and who took a long look at me. I stared quietly back at him. You may look as long as you wish, I thought, you fat, funny old fellow with a snub nose. You surely aren't going to complain of my physical condition. "Bon," said the doctor. A clerk wrote something in a book. This finished the ceremony. The doctor did not bother about such trifles as examining the lungs, heart or eyes. He was for simplifying things. Monsieur le major decided with a short look in each case, as the other men took their turn. Three men were refused. An old woman could have diagnosed their condition at a glance--they were cases for a hospital, and their doing military service was absolutely out of the question. The man with the varicose veins, however, was at once accepted. Bon! I could see how happy he was over his good fortune, and I envied him. The man had hope.... * * * * * Before a small window in the wall we new recruits waited, half an hour, an hour. At last the window was opened and the corporal put out his head. "Snedr!" he called. Nobody answered. "Snedr!!" he yelled, getting angry. Still no reply. Finally the lieutenant appeared beside the corporal, and looked over his list. "Oh," he said, "the man does not understand. Schneider!" "Here!" answered one of my new comrades at once.