Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 12, No. 28, July, 1873Various
Science
Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 12, No. 28, July, 1873
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- Periodicals
prisoner by those "thaves" of Prussians, and he'd better have his
money with him till he could get his remittances from across the
Channel. He had enough of living upon next to nothing--which was
horse-flesh--and he didn't want to live on nothing among the Germans.
Those five-franc pieces, however, he always put to the drollest uses.
He would find his way in among the artillerymen, and, pointing to a
given spot, he would tell them in the worst imaginable French to throw
a shell in there: "Ploo haut, ploo haut, mon bong ami: aim at the
chimney, the chimney." Then he would step aside, with hands in his
pockets, and watch results. If it was a good shot, he would give the
gunner a five-franc piece. Thus he would pass along the line until he
had exhausted the money with which he had fortified himself against
starvation among the Prussians. And this was all for pure love
of fighting, for the major saw so much of the French officers'
incompetency that he soon had precious little sympathy for their
cause.
At the second assault on Bourget, O'Flynn grew tired of waiting for
the attack, and, what is more, terribly hungry. "I've lived long
enough on horse-mate," exclaimed the major, "especially when I've
none of it at all!" So he unhitched one of his black horses from the
ambulance-wagon, and, taking a saddle from an orderly, tore off his
_brassard_ and other ambulance insignia, threw away his cap, so as not
to compromise us, and rode bareheaded down to the very frontest of
the front. The advance were lying crouched down in the rifle-pits,
awaiting the signal to storm the village. Motioning to the amazed
soldiery, he cried, still in his horrible French, "Now or never!
_Voilà_ Bourget! Follow me! See, there's Bourget. Sooivez moi!" All
this to the rattle of German musketry. Seeing that he got no response
in one place, he rode madly to the other rifle-pits and repeated the
invitation, the officers shouting to him as he passed that he was
riding into certain death, and conjuring him to save himself. But the
major could not or would not understand them. Finally, some officers
ran out, and, taking him forcibly from his horse, led him away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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