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
Our noonday repast was composed of cold bam and fried potatoes. I think
I never ate better, though I must confess that the latter were stolen
from a neighboring field. By two o'clock a dozen weary inhabitants of
Villiers were stretched out on their rugs and peacefully dreaming! We
had decided to rest before determining what to do for the night.
I was awakened by a stiff feeling in my neck, and opened my eyes to find
that the sun was rapidly disappearing in the west. I had slept soundly
four hours and was much refreshed, though the bumps in the ground had
bruised me, and I could hardly move my head.
Yvonne had stood the journey so far very well though unable as yet to
walk, but as the cool of the evening came on I began to worry lest a
night out of doors set her screaming with pain. So as I laced my boots,
I decided to go back to Rebais and make another desperate attempt to
lodge her at least.
"Did Madame see Maitre Baudoin this morning," asked Leon, to whom I
imparted my plans.
I gasped! What a fool I was! My mind was so upset that I had forgotten
that my own notary was a prominent personality in Rebais.
A quarter of an hour later I turned into the public square and beheld
Maitre Baudoin and his wife standing on the doorstep watching the exodus
of numerous refugees.
"Madame Huard!" they exclaimed. "You? What on earth has happened?"
I explained in a few words.
"Why, come right in. We were just going to sit down to dinner."
I said I was not alone, and must first look after the others. Without
waiting a second, Maitre Baudoin crossed over to the town hall and soon
returned with a key in his hand.
"Here, here's the key to a bakery--there are rooms above. Your people
can lodge there and you come in with us. All this will be over in a day
or so; the news is good to-day. The Germans will never reach the
Marne!"
I went and fetched our delighted caravan, and after safely depositing
them in their new residence, I was crossing the main street to join my
friends, when a big military auto whisked into the middle of the square
and halted. Ten seconds later it was followed by a dozen others, and by
the time I had reached the Baudoins' the place was literally lined with
motors, containing officers and orderlies. We were just sitting down
when some one pounded on the door and a deep authoritative voice called
out, "You're to lodge a general and two officers!" And we could hear
the man hastily chalking the names on the door.
Madame Baudoin looked from me to her husband, her eyes wide open with
astonishment. The meal was forgotten and we hurried out into the
twilight to seek news. The _Etat Major_ of a cavalry division was to
bivouac at Rebais, would be leaving at midnight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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