My char-woman woke me by bringing me the papers, which I read in bed. To think that it had not come yet! It was true that all intercourse had been broken off between Berlin and St. Petersburg, and even on our frontier there had already been some deaths, the Samain brothers and the Curé de Moineville. Provocations and outrages were multiplying and increasing in severity. Our forces nevertheless were still kept back two miles from the frontier. M. de Scho?n was still about. They were talking!
The papers did not cover more than a page now, and were quickly read. They all contained the same incoherent communiqués and the rare telegrams which were allowed by the censor (already!) to trickle through.
Details in plenty on the manifestations in Paris and in the provinces. The same old story! In one of them there was a technical article headed "The Defence of Nancy." This title interested me. I, like most other people, felt so certain that this town was doomed; at the mercy of the first masterly move.
What baffled me was the placid, docile attitude of my friends the socialists. How little one heard of[Pg 61] them! It was true that the censor ... but never mind! Jaurès, as he was dying, had left them the order to go on, and they were going on. Closed ranks and obedience and confidence were the orders of the day. Arguments were left for another time! and on my honour, it was very fine!
My purchases of the preceding day were delivered. I asked the boy who brought them, if he was going to fight.
"Of course!"
He was a cheery soul. He liked the idea of knocking the Bosches on the head; he had no great opinion of them chaps. And then besides that, it was worth takin' a bit o' trouble to get a breath of fresh air, for him whose week had been spent in running errands, and his Sundays as assistant in a picture palace, for how long...? Blowed if it wasn't five blooming years—yes, ever since he was a nipper of seventeen—he'd never set eyes on the country....
Were there many like that, I wondered.
When I tried on my boots they seemed to me to squeeze me. Was there a pad in the heel? I put in my hand but brought nothing out. I should have to squash the counter to make it more pliable.
No business called me out-of-doors. My list of errands had been exhausted the day before. What friend should I go to see? They would all be running about the town in the excitement and emotion of departures and farewells. I would go and dine with Laquarrière this evening, that would be enough for me. I had made up my mind that the streets would look just as commonplace as they had yesterday, and I should get all the information I wanted from the newspapers.
[Pg 62]
I stayed quietly at home, looking through my papers and reading over some old letters. The idea of making my will occurred to me.... But, when once I was gone, what would it matter to me?
My friends in the regiment would have laughed if they had known to what I had been tempted to consecrate my day, ever since I woke up. I went and fished up a book in a grey cover from the bottom of my book-case; my old Handbook for Non-Commissioned Officers.
I had not opened the book since the beginning of my military service, not even when I had been put in command of a section. It was quite possible, to-day, in view of the deficiency of officers, that I should be given a commission.
So I lunched at home. I got through almost the whole of the book; for instance the "Section in Action," and "Field Operations," "Alimentation," and "Hygiene," such chapters as I agreed with in letter and in spirit. But with what disdain did I skip everything concerning peace time or even garrison duty.
Towards evening, somebody rang the bell: Laquarrière.
I greeted him with, "A good idea, old fellow! I was coming round to say good-bye."
"Oh yes, of course. You're off!" he said.
He had escaped his military ser............