Vagabonds of the sea : $b The campaign of a French cruiser — John Shaqi
Vagabonds of the sea : $b The campaign of a French cruiserLarrouy, Maurice
History
Vagabonds of the sea : $b The campaign of a French cruiser
Larrouy, Maurice
Waldeck-Rousseau (Cruiser); World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, French
It is dawn. We are moving in a long file towards the Austrian islands.
From cruiser to cruiser the cocks are calling and answering each other.
As their clear call salutes the dawn, it is accompanied by the cackling
of our poultry-yard. In the fresh air the melancholy cattle are lowing,
and the restless sheep are bleating; each of our dinners diminishes
their number. To the officers on watch there rises the country smell
from the henhouses, the cattle manure, and the hay, their fodder; and
the air is filled with all the sounds of an awakening farm. Into the
preoccupations of the watch creep precious memories and nostalgia;
one would like to be in some country place, surrounded by meadows and
woods, and one wants to close one’s eyes so that nothing may destroy
the dream.
But it is the green sea that forms our meadows; and the Dalmatian
Isles, which emerge from the mist, are the groves of our horizon. The
three big cruisers with six stacks are in the upper Adriatic, at the
approaches to Lissa, a bastion of the Austrians on that sea, over which
we sail without opposition. Further south, toward the isles of Lagosta
or Pelagosa, the armored squadrons move at reduced speed. Once again,
the tenth or twentieth time--we have lost count--the French “naval
army” emerges from the dawn and offers the challenge they will not
accept.
Only a short distance away, Lissa wakens under our eyes. Pleasant
wooded slopes clothe this island; a tiny town, the principal place,
surrounds a quiet harbor. We do not need our glasses to count the
houses or even the windows; the people who come into the streets raise
their hands to Heaven at sight of us and retreat behind their doors,
which they barricade. The ribbon of water separating us from the shore
is hardly broader than a river, and without taking aim our guns could
pulverize houses and people. The Germans, in our place, would assure
themselves a tremendous triumph, which their journals would celebrate
in the list of German victories. But the French are incorrigible; they
will never learn these illustrious methods, and will never destroy
defenseless cities and men. Think what you will, our gospel contains no
such precept.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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