CHAPTER VIII
A BOCHE TESTIMONIAL
It was after eight o'clock that night when Jimmy's detachment finisheda supper of the inevitable bully beef and biscuit, washed down withcoffee furnished them by the kindly French woman to whom the stablebelonged, and whose farmhouse was situated only a short distance fromit.
Worn out by two-days' sojourn in the narrow confines of "Eight Horses,"both Bob and Jimmy were only too glad to resign themselves to thedoubtful comfort of the straw-strewn stable floor.
It proved to be a restless night for all concerned. "Sergeant Blaiseand Thirty-Two Men" had their first unpleasant experience with the"cooties," a baleful gray vermin that has been the perpetual bane ofthe soldier in France since the beginning of the war.
Later, when trench life had taught the Khaki Boys to accustomthemselves to "most any old thing," the ever-present "cootie" becameinsignificant when compared to other trials they were called upon toendure. That first night, however, was one of such itching horror asthey were not likely to forget in a hurry.
In spite of this new trial they managed to snatch a little sleep,though Jimmy stoutly declared his intention of rolling up in his ponchoand sleeping outdoors thereafter.
Obliged to depend upon the rations previously issued them for breakfastthe next morning, Jimmy rebelled and made a quick hike up to thefarmhouse, returning with the glowing information that "Madame" wasquite willing to furnish breakfast to such as desired to partake of herhospitality. Her charges for the same were low, and the majority of themen were very willing to pay them. In consequence, Sergeant Blaise'slittle flock feasted on bacon, eggs, white bread, and preserves.
Breakfast finished, a hasty going over of equipment ensued, and Jimmymarched his men to a not far distant field for inspection, where theyhad been ordered to report and parade. Here they found the rest oftheir own detachment. Inspection over, the entire unit put in themorning in drill, with three ten-minute intermissions for rest, duringwhich the newly arrived Sammies had a chance to compare notes.
The first of these intermissions saw the five Brothers engaged ina zealous hunt for one another. Together, Bob and Jimmy made speedyeffort to locate their bunkies, managing to pick them up just as thecommand came to "Fall in."
"Meet us here, next break," called Bob over his shoulder, as he ranback to his squad.
At the next order of "Fall Out," the five made prompt rush for the spotwhich Bob had designated.
"Well!" exclaimed Roger, as they grouped themselves eagerly together."Where did you fellows get off at?"
"In a stable," was Jimmy's disgusted answer. "It's not far from here.Our 'at home' sign's out."
"Come and see us. You'll love the place. I hate to think of leavingit," grimaced Bob.
"I'm in the same boat. I mean the same sweet kind of a billet," grinnedRoger. "A nice hard floor, straw, lots of 'cooties,' and all thecomforts of a cow barn. Schnitz lives in a house that nobody else butSammies wanted. The folks moved away before the French Revolution cameoff and took the furniture along."
"Nothing left but dust and rats," supplemented Schnitzel. "We haven'tfound any live stock yet. That's something to brag of."
"Iggy is the lucky guy. He's in a real house with real people, realeats, and real beds to sleep in. He and his squad grabbed a cinch."
"I don't like," objected Ignace mournfully. "My Brother sleep instable, so would I there be."
"Can the sob stuff, Iggy," railed Bob, though his black eyes were verykind. "Never mind about us. Be glad you landed soft."
"I am no the pig," asserted Ignace with lofty dignity.
"Sure you aren't. If you were you couldn't camp in that nice billet.You'd land in a pig sty, and that would be worse than a cow barn."
Bob winked drolly at Roger.
"Where'll we meet after drill?" broke in Jimmy. "We'll have to decideright off the bat. Our time's almost up."
"Right here," suggested Schnitzel. "We'll probably break ranks and bedismissed here on account of being scattered all over the village."
"I wonder if we are going to have regular mess kitchens set up. Don'tbelieve we will, though. I guess it's cook-wagons for ours or buy ourown grub if we want variety. I have an idea we're going to move onsoon."
"I hope so," Bob said fervently. "These Frenchies are very decent aboutnot soaking a fellow for his grub. They'd give it to you if you'd let'em. Even so, pay-day's a long way off, and Bobby's no millionaire.I like to pay as I go. These people can't afford to treat after allthey've been through. A franc in itself isn't much, but when it's afranc here, and two francs there, it counts up like the mischief."
"Wait till I hear from home and we'll have money to burn," declaredgenerous Jimmy. "I had the nerve to ask Dad for five hundred. I'll betI get it, too."
"Keep the change," laughed Roger. "Your money's no good with us. Wespends our own and goes broke. Blime if we gets so low as to sponge offa pal!"
Roger imitated to perfection the tone of a Tommy. The Khaki Boys had,by this time, come to know and like many of England's sturdy, fightingTommies.
Command to again "Fall In" broke up the brief reunion. Drill ending atnoon, the Sammies were given the rest of the day for their own untilRetreat, which was scheduled to take place on the impromptu paradeground at the usual hour.
Left to themselves, the five Brothers gathered briefly together afterdismissal. Agreeing to meet again at the same place half an hour later,they set off for their billets to put away their rifles.
Meeting again promptly at the appointed time, they started out to findsome place where they might obtain a substantial dinner. This wasrather hard to find, as almost every house in the village had its quotaof transient Sammies to care for. By dint of inquiry they finallylocated a quaint little inn, and entered it to find it overflowing withmen of their own detachment who had also been seeking a place to eatreal food, regardless of expense.
After standing about waiting for a time, they at last managed to graba table, and were presently served with a savory meal, cooked in trueFrench fashion.
Dinner over, they left the inn and wandered about the village with itsquaint gray stone houses and winding streets. Close examination of itshowed that it had not escaped the enemy's spite. Here and there theruins of a house or a deep furrow in the ground showed the effects ofBoche gun or bomb work.
The inhabitants were a simple, friendly lot who treated them to smilinglooks and bobbing little bows of admiration and respect. The heart ofFrance beats warmly for Uncle Sam's Boys. Her people look upon them asthe savior of the Allied cause, come in the hour of need.
Deciding to put off writing letters to the home folks until the nextday, the five Khaki Boys spent their entire afternoon in wanderingaimlessly about, seeing something of interest, no matter in whichdirection they walked.
One sight in particular filled them with righteous wrath. Traversingone of the smaller streets, they encountered an apple-cheeked Frenchwoman and a boy of about ten years. To their united horror theyinstantly noticed that the child's arms had been lopped off just belowthe elbow.
"Great Heavens! Look at that!" muttered Bob, as the two drew nearer."Speak to her, Blaise. Ask her if that's Boche butchery."
"_Bon jour_, Madame." Jimmy's hand went to his helmet.
Since coming to the village, the Khaki Boys had been ordered to replacetheir campaign hats with the bullet-proof helmets, which the soldiermust wear constantly as he approaches nearer to the firing lines.
"Is this your son?" he inquired in French. His gray eyes were dark withmingled horror and sympathy, as he indicated the pitiful little figure."How did this happen to him?"
"But _non_, _Monsieur_," the woman replied. "He is a Belgian. _LesAllemands_, this they do. Father and mother, both they kill. This poorchild--_Voila_, you see for yourself! He was brought to me thus. Now Ihave taken him for my own. Three sons I once had. All died at Ypres andfor France."
In the face of this tragic recital, the five Khaki Boys stood silent.Instantly every helmet wa
s doffed to this grand figure of womanhood.There were no signs of tears in her bright black eyes as she spoke,only a fleeting expression of intense suffering, which merged instantlyinto a look of intense pride, as she mentioned the loss of her sons.
"Ask her, Blazes, if she'll allow us to make the poor kiddie apresent," ordered Roger, a trifle unsteadily.
The woman flushed, then smiled, showing two rows of strong, white teeth.
"It is not necessary, Monsieur," she returned. "Still, if _lesAmericains_ of the great heart please--I am very poor."
"Cough up a dollar or two apiece, quick," ordered Bob, who hadunderstood the reply. His recent complaint regarding far-off pay-daywas now forgotten.
Each Sammy's hand went instantly to his money belt.
"This is your donation party, Rodge." Jimmy handed a two-dollar note toRoger. Ignace, Schnitzel and Bob handed him a like amount.
Adding his own offering, Roger tendered it to the woman, who thankedthem with a pretty courtesy that quite won their hearts.
"Can such things be?" was Bob's savage question as they strolled on."It's bad enough to read about 'em, but when you meet 'em face to face!Ugh! Lead me to the trenches, and do it quick!"