My Home in the Field of HonorHuard, Frances Wilson
History
My Home in the Field of Honor
Huard, Frances Wilson
World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives
Towards dusk the _garde-champtre_ appeared and left orders that George
and Leon must take their turns at mounting guard. Four hours right out
of the sleep of a peasant boy especially when he is overworked, is
likely to leave him useless the next day. It provoked me a little, but
then it was duty and they must obey. The boys came on at eleven and
having decided it would be better to get in an hour or so of rest
beforehand, they retired to the hay loft. I promised to look in on them
in case they should fail to waken, and at the appointed time I put on my
sweater and went down to find, as I had expected, both youths slumbering
peacefully, blissfully unconscious of the time. Poor little chaps, it
seemed a pity to wake them, but what was to be done? Presently an idea
of replacing them myself dawned upon me: a second later it so enchanted
me that I wouldn't have had them wake for anything. The whole thing was
beginning to be terribly romantic.
Slipping quietly away, I went to my room and got my revolver, and then
going to the south front of the chateau, I softly whistled for my dogs.
Three big greyhounds, a shepherd dog and a setter responded immediately,
and just as I was about to shut the little yellow door, old Betsy, my
favorite Boston bull, came panting around the corner of the house. With
these five as bodyguard I sauntered up the road in the brilliant
moonlight, arriving in front of the town hall just as the clock was
striking eleven. I must say that my appearance and announcement rather
shocked two elderly men who had been on the watch since seven o'clock.
Monsieur Demarcq protested that such a thing as a woman mounting guard
had never been beard of, but I swiftly argued him out of that idea. What
was required of me? That I stop every passer-by and every vehicle?
Didn't he think me capable of doing so? And I pointed to my dogs and my
revolver. The weight of the argument was so evidently on my side that
they had nothing to do but to submit, and laughingly Mr. Foeter put me
in possession of a heavy old gun, three packages of cartridges, and the
lantern. Then once again they asked if I couldn't be dissuaded, to
which I jokingly replied that I would set my dogs after them and drive
them home if they didn't make haste to go there at once. That admonition
proved more efficacious than I had dared hope, and assured me that my
faithful beasts rejoiced in a ferocious reputation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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