France at War: On the Frontier of Civilization | ||
THE LINE THAT NEVER SLEEPS
It is difficult to keep an edge after hours of fresh air and experiences; so one does not get the most from the most interesting part of the day--the dinner with the local headquarters. Here the professionals meet--the Line, the Gunners, the Intelligence with stupefying photo-plans of the enemy's trenches; the Supply; the Staff, who collect and note all things, and are very properly chaffed; and, be sure, the Interpreter, who, by force of questioning prisoners, naturally
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The ridge with the scattered pines might have hidden children at play. Certainly a horse would have been quite visible, but there was no hint of guns, except a semaphore which
"And where are the guns?" I demanded at last.
They were almost under one's hand, their ammunition in cellars and dug-outs beside them. As far as one can make out, the 75 gun has no pet name. The bayonet is Rosalie the virgin of Bayonne, but the 75, the watchful nurse of the trenches and little sister of the Line, seems to be
France at War: On the Frontier of Civilization | ||