Franco-Prussian War, 1870-1871 -- Fiction; War stories
And that was the cry of all; they were overcome with fatigue. Many of
them lacked strength and courage to erect their tents, but dropping
where they stood, at once fell fast asleep on the bare ground. In order
to eat, moreover, rations would have been necessary, and the commissary
wagons, which were waiting for the 7th corps to come to them at la
Besace, could not well be at Osches at the same time. In the universal
relaxation of order and system even the customary corporal’s call was
omitted: it was everyone for himself. There were to be no more issues
of rations from that time forth; the soldiers were to subsist on the
provisions they were supposed to carry in their knapsacks, and that
evening the sacks were empty; few indeed were those who could muster a
crust of bread or some crumbs of the abundance in which they had been
living at Vouziers of late. There was coffee, and those who were not
too tired made and drank it without sugar.
When Jean thought to make a division of his wealth by eating one of his
biscuits himself and giving the other to Maurice, he discovered that
the latter was sound asleep. He thought at first he would awake him,
but changed his mind and stoically replaced the biscuits in his sack,
concealing them with as much caution as if they had been bags of gold;
he could get along with coffee, like the rest of the boys. He had
insisted on having the tent put up, and they were all stretched on the
ground beneath its shelter when Loubet returned from a foraging
expedition, bringing in some carrots that he had found in a neighboring
field. As there was no fire to cook them by they munched them raw, but
the vegetables only served to aggravate their hunger, and they made
Pache ill.
“No, no; let him sleep,” said Jean to Chouteau, who was shaking Maurice
to wake him and give him his share.
“Ah,” Lapoulle broke in, “we shall be at Angouleme to-morrow, and then
we’ll have some bread. I had a cousin in the army once, who was
stationed at Angouleme. Nice garrison, that.”
They all looked surprised, and Chouteau exclaimed:
“Angouleme—what are you talking about! Just listen to the bloody fool,
saying he is at Angouleme!”
It was impossible to extract any explanation from Lapoulle. He had
insisted that morning that the uhlans that they sighted were some of
Bazaine’s troops.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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