... 40
_Chevaux_.... 8
Doubtless we have wondered, idly enough, what it must feel like to be
one of the forty hommes. Well, now we know.
When we landed, we were packed into a train composed of fifty such
trucks, and were drawn by a mighty engine for a day and a night across
the pleasant land of France. Every six hours or so we were indulged
with a _Halte Repas_. That is to say, the train drew up in a siding,
where an officer with R.T.O. upon his arm made us welcome, and
informed us that hot water was available for taking tea. Everybody had
two days' rations in his haversack, so a large-scale picnic followed.
From the horse-trucks emerged stolid individuals with canvas
buckets--you require to be fairly stolid to pass the night in a closed
box, moving at twenty miles an hour, in company with eight riotous
and insecurely tethered mules--to draw water from the hydrant which
supplied the locomotives. The infant population gathered round, and
besought us for "souvenirs," the most popular taking the form of
"biskeet" or "bully-boeuf." Both were given freely: with but little
persuasion our open-handed warriors would have fain squandered their
sacred "emergency ration" upon these rapacious infants.
After refreshment we proceeded to inspect the station. The centre of
attraction was the French soldier on guard over the water-tank. Behold
this same sentry confronted by Private Mucklewame, anxious to comply
with Divisional Orders and "lose no opportunity of cultivating the
friendliest relations with those of our Allies whom you may chance to
encounter.
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