Thus, he was a sight that no strictly10 military[204] officer who had received at least ninety days’ training in learning the commands of squads11 right, slope and shoulder arms, at some officers’ training school could bear.
“Private!” the officer shouted indignantly. “What are you doing out of uniform?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
Truthfully, Hicks did not know. He only knew that he had thrown away much of his own equipment and that he was highly pleased with the equipment he had substituted for it.
“Don’t know?” The officer was scandalized. “Private, how long have you been in the service?”
“And you don’t yet know how to dress? Nor how to address an officer? Private, you have not saluted15 me!” The officer was horror-stricken; his tone suggested an utter unbelief in Hicks’s existence.
The officer turned green. “Private, consider yourself under arrest.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Hicks started to walk away.
“And private,” the officer called. “If you[205] aren’t back in uniform by the next time I see you, a charge of disobedience will be added to your offense17.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Hicks muttered, walking away.
He sought out the coolest-looking spot in the woods and there lay down. In a moment he was asleep. In another moment he was awakened18 by a terrific noise. Unwittingly, he had selected for his bed a space not ten yards from where a battery of long-range guns were concealed19. When they were fired the earth shook. He rose and fled farther into the woods.
Ahead of him, at the side of a green knoll20, several old Frenchmen were pottering around a field kitchen. The coals of the wood fire under a huge black kettle glowed in a warming, friendly fashion. The aroma21 of black, satisfying coffee steamed from the wide mouth of the caldron. Hicks was enchanted22, powerless to move, afraid to approach the benignant genii. He felt like a vagrant23, nose pressed against the window of a fashionable restaurant. But no, not like a vagrant. Vagrants24 were only in cities, in blessed civilizations. He was still undecided, when one of the squat26 little figures, that somehow reminded him of the characters[206] in “Rip Van Winkle,” looked up. To Hicks he spoke27 unintelligibly28, but his voice was not forbidding. Hicks came nearer. He sniffed29. “Café?” he questioned.
“Café bon,” offered Hicks.
“Oui. Café bon, très bon,” the man conceded.
“J’ai faim.”
“O pardon. Vous avez faim. Voulez-vous café?” He scooped31 a ladleful of hot coffee from the caldron and offered it to Hicks. How simple it was, Hicks thought, as he drained the dipper.
The men gathered around Hicks. “Américain, oui?” They apparently32 had decided25 before offering the question. “Pas Anglais? Anglais mauvais.”
They learned that he had been in the attack. “Boche pas bon aussi, non?”
From their bags cakes of chocolate and slices of bread were brought and offered. Hicks ate shyly but greedily.
They were the first Frenchmen whom he had tried to talk with since the day of the first attack of his platoon. Then they were disheartened,[207] not caring whether the Germans drank beer from the Arc de Triomphe or not. Now they had regained33 heart and were willing to continue the struggle of the advance toward Germany. Hicks learned that he had engaged in the initial attack of a vast offensive, that the goal had been reached, that Soissons had fallen under the storm of the First and Second Regular Divisions, that Chateau-Thierry had at last been cleared of the enemy by the Third and Twenty-sixth Divisions, that in between the Fourth Regular Division had been successful in its attack. “Fini la guerre?” asked Hicks, and he was frowned upon by the genii. No, they informed him, the war had begun anew and would continue long. The genii spoke of the black forest, of the Kriemhilde Stellung, which had never been passed save by Allied34 prisoners, of the narrowing front the German retreat would make. No, the war would last one year, two years, three years.
Hicks tramped through the forest, stumbling over large holes that had been torn in the ground by the explosions of German long-range shells. Now all was quiet. The green leaves of the trees fluttered unperturbed, birds trilled[208] from joy or shrieked35 messages to one another. The boughs36 of the trees were kind, shielding the men from the rays of the hot summer sun. Soldiers were bustling37 about, tugging38 ant-like at heavy caissons which seemed unwilling39 to budge40.
Thoroughly41 tired out, men were stretched upon the cool grass asleep, forgetful of the void in their stomachs. Suddenly, in the distance, a very erect42 form stalked through the trees. As it approached, a thin, haughty43 face, above which a steel helmet jauntily44 set, was to be seen. At the sight of him all of the sleeping men arose as if by a signal earlier agreed upon. The tired, worn-out, hungry soldiers; the dirty, blood-smeared, lousy soldiers; the red-eyed, gas-eaten, mud-caked soldiers; the stupid, yellow, cowardly soldiers; the pompous45, authoritative46 corporals; the dreamy, valiant47, faithful soldiers rose to their feet and stood at attention. As the tall, spare figure advanced nearer, tired hands were smartly raised to their helmets and dropped quickly against the thigh48.
Was it General Ulysses S. Pershing who had come? It was not. It was Major Adams, Major John R. Adams, the battalion commander.
[209]
“First battalion of the Sixth, sir.”
“Where are the rest of the men?”
“All the men are here, sir.”
“What! This is not a battalion, it’s a platoon. That was a hell of a way to let a bunch of Germans treat you.”
That afternoon beer was rationed50 by the mess sergeant51, who had deprived his safe dugout, far in the rear, of his pleasant company for a few hours. The mess sergeant admitted that the beer had been provided by Major Adams.
On this particular afternoon the woods of Villers Cotterets was as quiet and peaceful as a statue of stone. Placid52, motionless, the leaves of the trees looked as if they were made of wax. Their branches curved solemnly and prayerfully toward each other, meeting and forming successions of arches. Planted in perpendicular53 rows, they aspired54 straight and immutable55, while overhead, fat plucked cotton tops, greatly expanded, lay like dead below an impenetrable expanse[210] of blue sky. Upon the fragile blades of grass men were held in the vice13 of a sleep of exhaustion56. Five miles from the woods the guns along the front line, where men waited, anxiously watching the movements of each other, were silent.
Somewhere among the solemn and still branches a huge limb cracked. It fell rapidly and with a horrific sound through the foliage57. Down, down it came, rending58 the small sprigs of green as it fell. Below the limb a soldier slept. When it reached the earth its heavier end struck the soldier on the head, crushing his skull59. Instantly the scene was changed to one of frenzied60 activity. Men leaped to their feet and ran out of the woods.
The treachery, the unexpectedness of the calamity61 remained unshakable in the mind of Hicks. To him it seemed the height of cruelty, and in some way he interpreted it as an intentional62 act of the enemy. He knew better. He knew that a shell, probably the day before, during the heavy bombardment, had struck the limb and partly severed63 it, and afterward64 its great weight had brought itself down. It preyed65 upon him dreadfully. That any one could have gone through the punishment of the[211] attack unharmed and then have returned to a place of safety only to be killed was more than he could stand. It was an act of vengeance66, and he believed it to be the vengeance of an angry God.
Men returned to the woods from the field under orders of the officers, who feared that their presence in the field might attract the attention of the enemy. Nearly all of them returned and resumed their sleep. But not Hicks. He was firmly decided against the woods. He would be at hand for as many attacks as general headquarters could devise; he would do his part in advancing the Allied cause; he would help save the world for democracy; he would make war to end war; he would tolerate Y. M. C. A. secretaries; he would go without food, clothing, and sleep—so he told the officers—but he would not return to the woods. He lay down outside in the wheat, every muscle twitching67. For him, he felt, life had ended, the world had come to a full stop.
Even the man?uvring of a small German plane around the big French observation balloon failed to draw his attention from himself. The little plane would draw away like some game-cock, and then dash for the balloon, spurting[212] a stream of incendiary bullets as it flew, then draw away again and repeat the operation. At last the basket of the balloon was located and the observer was struck by a piece of hot lead. High above the trees, he leaned from the basket and dropped, clinging to his parachute. The parachute caught in the top of one of the trees. From nowhere a low-hung French automobile68, with three men in the seats, dashed forward toward the scene. The men got out, and, after a while, returned with the wounded observer, the white bandage on his arm showing distinctly for a distance. But the sight offered no titillations for Hicks.
Before dusk the battalion was formed and orders were given to march back to the line of reserve. The news that the destination of the battalion was farther from the front was sceptically received. The men adopted the pose of feeling insulted at having been offered so poor a ruse69. “Reserve, my eye. Why don’t they say we’re goin’ to one of them rest camps you always hear so much about?”
“Or else tell us that we’re goin’ to get thirty days’ leave each.”
“Yeh, where’s them boats we was goin’ to see?”
[213]
“I’d like to know.”
“We may go in reserve, but it’ll be in reserve of the Germans.”
Thus they offered their various comments upon the foolishness of believing that they were to leave the front.
But the talk was borne on weak wings. For the moment the men had little interest in their destination, save that they wanted it to be near. Their legs felt as if they were to be separated from their bodies at the groin. Their feet felt as if their shoes were full of small, sharp pebbles70. Major Adams, leading his horse and walking beside the men, encouraged them, saying that they would halt in a short time.
If the battalion as a body troubled little about where they were going, Hicks cared not at all. The incident of the falling tree had broken him. He felt in danger of his life. Where he went mattered not. There was no safety anywhere. He tramped along the road, an atom in the long, lean line, his face showing white as paper through the dirt.
As night came on and a lopsided moon appeared, the battalion turned off in a woods, was halted, and lay down.
In the dark Hicks and Pugh found a place[214] where the grass was thickest. They spread out their blankets and lay down. Pugh was restless, though his body was scourged71 with fatigue72. His was the foraging73 spirit. There were no supply wagons74 in sight from which to pilfer75, there were no field kitchens, with the cooks stewing76 a barely edible77 mess of tomatoes, beef-bones, potatoes, and onions. He got up and silently stole away. Less than an hour afterward he returned, his arms laden78 with bottles and condiments79. He uncorked a bottle, placed the open end under Hicks’s nose, and gently shook him.
“Oh, Hicks, Hicksy, look what daddy’s got.”
Hicks awakened with a start, almost knocking the bottle from Pugh’s hand.
“Cognac?” Hicks greedily asked.
Hicks drank, passed the bottle to Pugh. The bottle played shuttlecock between them.
“What’s the matter?” sympathetically. “These Big Berthas got you fooled?”
“No,” thoughtfully. “That isn’t it. I can[215] stand that all right. I can even stand to see Kahl and the rest of those fellows get knocked off. I suppose I could even stand it to get killed myself. You don’t make such a hell of a fuss when you get killed. But it seems so damned ridiculous. Take our going over the other day. A full battalion starting off and not even a fifth of them coming back. And what did they do? What did we do? We never even saw a German. They just laid up there and picked us off—direct hits with their artillery83 every time! That’s hell, ... you know. Think of being sent out to get killed, and the person who sends you not knowing where you’re going! It looks crazy. Like goin’ up to the Kaiser and saying: ‘Here, chop my head off.’ And I was talking to a Frog to-day, a Frog that gave me some coffee, and he said that this damned thing might keep up for years. Now, it’d be all right if we could go up and clean things up with one big smash, but it’s pretty mean when you go up and come back, go up and come back, until you get knocked off. Gimme another drink.
“And Jack, you know that Frog I was tellin’ you about? When he gave me the coffee he asked me if I was an American. I guess he[216] thought at first that I was an Englishman, and when I told him I wasn’t he looked sort of glad. Then he looked as if he expected me to agree with him and said that the Englishmen were no good.”
“Well, you did, didn’t you? I’d like to take a crack at them lime-juicers.”
“What difference does that make? The point is, the French hate the English and the English hate the Americans and the Americans hate the Germans, and where the hell is it all goin’ to end? Gimme another drink.
“I guess that fellow being killed this afternoon got on my nerves,” he finished.
Pugh sat awake, watching the stars through the trees and listening to one of the new men singing low some Italian love-songs that he had learned in Rome.
The battalion slept until noon. When they awoke, the field kitchens, drawn85 up not far from them, were concocting86 the rations87 into that particular delicacy88 known to army folk as slum. The men fell in line before the large metal containers, where soiled-looking ragamuffins[217] slopped a pale, watery89 substance into the dirty mess-kits that were held out by the men as they passed. The bread was white, there was much coffee that was hot. Further than that the desires of the men did not wing.
Late afternoon found the battalion on the road again, bound farther from the front. They knew that they were leaving the front by the receding90 boom of the artillery.
They were billeted in a small town from which all of the able-bodied inhabitants had flown. Vacant houses were searched out, armsful of straw were taken from the barns and arranged in neat piles on the stone floors of the houses. By sleeping in pairs, they were able to use one blanket to put over the straw, the other blanket to cover their bodies.
There began the regular soldier’s formula of reveille and morning exercises; a scrawny breakfast and a morning of drill; a heavy, lumpy dinner and an afternoon of skirmishing, alternating with lectures on the man?uvres of war; a thin, skimpy supper, leaving the men free in the evening to bribe91 the townspeople to sell them eggs, salads, rabbit, cognac, and wine.
Of an evening they would gather in cafés, small, snug92 ones, with rough boards for tables and several broken chairs and talk over the grievances93 that the day had brought; of the rottenness of the Y. M. C. A., upon which all but two were agreed; of what they did before they enlisted94 in “this man’s army”; of the slackness of the mail delivery; of their hatred95 and contempt for the military police, and especially those military police in Paris of whom horrifying96 tales of cruelty were told; of what they were going to do when they were released from the army; of the vengeance they were planning against at least three officers; of how they were going to circumvent97 being captured for the next war. One, now and again, would shyly bring a pocket-worn photograph forth98 and show it to those whom drink had made his closest friends. In all, a fairly pleasant existence.
But Hicks was one of the more silent among them. After the first few nights in the town he began making long, lonely pilgrimages to near-by towns and returning later after taps, at which time he was supposed to be in bed. He also began drinking more heavily, and one morning, when the whistle was blown for drill,[219] Hicks was still drunk from the effects of the liquor of the night before. But being one of the handful of the original members of the platoon, little by way of reprimand was said.
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1
battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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lieutenants
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| n.陆军中尉( lieutenant的名词复数 )；副职官员；空军；仅低于…官阶的官员 | |
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3
annihilated
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| v.（彻底）消灭( annihilate的过去式和过去分词 )；使无效；废止；彻底击溃 | |
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nucleus
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| n.核，核心，原子核 | |
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annexed
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| [法] 附加的，附属的 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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salvaged
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| （从火灾、海难等中）抢救（某物）( salvage的过去式和过去分词 )； 回收利用（某物） | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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squads
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| n.（军队中的）班( squad的名词复数 )；（暗杀）小组；体育运动的运动（代表）队；（对付某类犯罪活动的）警察队伍 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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knoll
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| n.小山，小丘 | |
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aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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23
vagrant
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| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
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vagrants
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| 流浪者( vagrant的名词复数 )； 无业游民； 乞丐； 无赖 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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unintelligibly
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| 难以理解地 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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31
scooped
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| v.抢先报道( scoop的过去式和过去分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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35
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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39
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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budge
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| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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42
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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45
pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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46
authoritative
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| adj.有权威的，可相信的；命令式的；官方的 | |
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47
valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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48
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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50
rationed
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| 限量供应，配给供应( ration的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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52
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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53
perpendicular
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| adj.垂直的，直立的；n.垂直线，垂直的位置 | |
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54
aspired
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| v.渴望，追求( aspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
immutable
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| adj.不可改变的，永恒的 | |
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56
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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57
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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58
rending
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| v.撕碎( rend的现在分词 )；分裂；（因愤怒、痛苦等而）揪扯（衣服或头发等）；（声音等）刺破 | |
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59
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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intentional
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| adj.故意的，有意（识）的 | |
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severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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preyed
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| v.掠食( prey的过去式和过去分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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ruse
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| n.诡计，计策；诡计 | |
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pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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scourged
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| 鞭打( scourge的过去式和过去分词 )； 惩罚，压迫 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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foraging
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| v.搜寻（食物），尤指动物觅（食）( forage的现在分词 )；（尤指用手）搜寻（东西） | |
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wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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pilfer
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| v.盗，偷，窃 | |
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stewing
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| 炖 | |
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edible
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| n.食品，食物；adj.可食用的 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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condiments
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| n.调味品 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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numbed
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| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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concocting
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| v.将（尤指通常不相配合的）成分混合成某物( concoct的现在分词 )；调制；编造；捏造 | |
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rations
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| 定量( ration的名词复数 )； 配给量； 正常量； 合理的量 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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grievances
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| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
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enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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horrifying
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| a.令人震惊的，使人毛骨悚然的 | |
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circumvent
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| vt.环绕，包围；对…用计取胜，智胜 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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