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
And after snapping his photograph I started on down the street in haste,
for I could see George and Leon, who had gone on ahead, now running
towards me.
"_Vite_, Madame. They need you!"
"Who?"
"The English. They can't make people understand."
I pressed forward, and came upon a crowd of gapers standing outside a
shop. Within two English officers were arguing in their native tongue
with an irate butcher, who waved one arm wildly in the air, and
brandished a huge knife in the other, shouting frantically all the
while,
"La' voila-la voila!" said George and Leon, almost dragging me forward,
proud to exhibit my accomplishments. "_La voila! Vous etes sauves._"
My greatest desire was to turn about and run, but the crowd parted to
let me through.
"Would you mind, Madame?" pleaded the lieutenant. "We need your
assistance to make this man understand that we're drafting meat for the
army. We'll pay cash, but be might just as well give it gracefully, for
we have the right to force his ice box if he refuses."
I explained gently, and when things were calm was about to slip away.
The officer touched me on the shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Madame, but I'm afraid we'll have to draft you, too. Our
time is limited and if a scene like this happen at every shop we'll be
punished for tardiness! Here's my order to draft an interpreter," and
he put his hand into his pocket.
I was somewhat abashed.
"Might I ask when you will release me?"
"Just as soon as we've the supply we need."
"Will you give me ten minutes to arrange my affairs here?"
"Certainly. But remember you're on parole!"
Outside I explained the situation to George and Leon, and scribbling a
note to friends in Barbizon, told the boys to drive over and reassure
the others--make them comfortable at the _Clef d'Or,_ and tell them to
expect me that evening.
"Whatever happens, wait there until I come. There's no danger of the
Germans reaching Barbizon, I fancy!"
And that is how from nine in the morning until late in the afternoon I
sat perched on the front of a British Army Supply truck, much to the
amusement of the other Tommy Atkins we encountered in Melun and the
neighboring villages.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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