 Chapter 10 of Six Women in the Invasion This is LibriVox Recording. All LibriVox Recording are in public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Chapter 10. Habu Bembez had hardly been appointed commander in morning when the enemy took a new step in the organization of the country. From that moment, two or three spatical scribe gathered together in a large school room, labelled bureau, both in French and German, and busied themselves with endless scruppings. They drew up leaves of a male inhabitant of the village. Two or twice a month had to be present when their names were called over. They put in writing all diverse tasks required for the villagers. They kept an account of allowance of food, sometimes granted to the civilians. They distributed passports and their superintendent requisitions. From the outset, Bubembez seemed eager to show he was hard to please. The rural constable was ordered to announce that gold was to be brought to the bureau, where the owners would be given banknotes in his stead. According to the simply exchanged 100 marks for 120 flunges, pieces of gold are not radially drawn out, the stockings, yet a few of them had to come forth. I am afraid that sinned them. The invaders had managed to empty them, but at that time they were only at the hill. By mere chance, money had as yet paid no more than to contribution of war, which had been levied on the whole country soon after the invasion. Other villagers less fortunate than ours had been overburdened with taxes upon the most ridiculous pretenses. A poor hamlet, Koochie Le Erbs, was fined six times during the space of a few months. First came the general contribution, then a fine of half a million flunges was imposed upon the cantons of Cissonde to which Koochie belonged, and every village had to pay his share. It so happened that in September some soldiers coming back from Rome drove their cart through Cissonde, and as their cart were loaded with bottle of wine, they drunk all the way, and true empty bottle behind them, then came more to cars, which punctured their tires on the broken glass. Great scandal, the civilians were accused of having put a trap for honest prussian views. Their protestation availed nothing, the canton was condemned to a fine, the canton must pay, and Koochie paid like the other communes. When all houses were searched after the great proclamation of November, an old fling lock kept in memory of an ancestor, was a discoverer in Koochie, at an old maiden lady's. It never struck the owner that she should have brought into the mayor's house, or hidden it, and suppose the old maiden lady had shoulder the age had gummed. Is it enough to make you shudder when you think of the danger of the German army, might have thousand curd, as quick as could be a few thousand flanks were levied on the village, which dad is aversive enough to conceal in no mate and no gun, even then the troubles of the poor village did not come to an end. A front vehicle dropped a bomb on the station, and a bomb disturbed a few German carriages. The military's authority needed its browse. Why this Koochie is talk of gend, let it have a good fine, and it will keep quiet. For what reason had this village to bleed itself, and borrow from the town in order to pay the invader twice more? I do not know, but so it was, morning's turn was coming, one night a band of a farm there the hoser were quartered took fire, and was soon a brace with straw it contained. The whole village ran to quench the conflagration. We stood nearby, just long enough to see the peasants put the fire out at all speed. While the soldier folded their arms, and were pleased to be amused, von der Behausen and Bubenbeth looked on to act despicable. Then von der Behausen thought proper to raid the mayor sharply. There are not people enough, go and fetch civilians, be quick. All the able-bodied men of the village were summoned, and they sweated why the hoser made sport of them. The cassette decided which took the place of the journal de guerre to the very best advantage. Does not relate such accident in this wise, but I can only rate what my eyes have seen. Bubenbeth rubbed his hand, he had found an opportunity to show his zild. With all speed he sent a report to the staff, a point which he depended, stating that civilians had set the barn on fire out of spite. He forgot to act that a few hours before. The disaster. The hoser had burned their dirty, lousy mattresses in the neighborhood of the set barn, where besides, soldiers had been seen smoking many a time with perfect serenity. So stout gentlemen in a full uniform came to morning, and with reproachful looks stalked majestically through the street. A chance was given us to atone for the misdeed, if within 24 hours information was lured against the civilian who had set fire to the barn. The village might be forgiven. Should the country happen, a severe penalty would be immediately enforced. No denunciation, and for good reasons, the people were convinced that the soldiers had kindled the straw on the purpose. The military authority grieved to the heart, imprisoned, without further delay, the mayor and six notable persons. Then they deliberated upon the matter, and always regretfully imposed a fine of 16,000 flanks on the village. They ordered the other prisoner to be set at liberty after three days, but kept the mayor under lock and key for two weeks. If third and worst lord, Monsieur Lonaise and another municipal councillor went the round of the village and did their best to get the sum required. They managed to collect 12,000 flanks, and the Germans had to be content with bad for the pleasant. They knew only too well that they would catch us again. Besides other cares worry us. In February 1915, our houses were again set from top to bottom. It was proclaimed that the inhabitants should declare the quantity of corn, flour and vegetable they had in store, so that the provision might be requisitioned according to the need of the German army and mysterious that closed basket 30 boroughs were seen in morning. There was an air of haze, men pass close to the walls, went along out of the way part, up to the attic, down into halls. When the day of requisitioned came, the Germans believed their eyes rather than the decoration of the native. There were tears and natching of teat, treasure were discovered, potatoes and corn dug up. The Germans laid hold of everything, and they even dispoied the very poor of their slender provisions. For instance, our neighbourhoods, the branches, a very young couple whose joint ages were less than 40 years, who had only an empty purse and about 30 kilos of potatoes, were robbed to the very last shred. That they may not lose single potato, they carefully raid Madame Tuget's shed all round, and seized 40, though the poor woman has four children, who do not leave upon nothing. We in our house, tired of war, hid nothing at all. We had to set for a fortnight full sack's weed, which we had bought from a farmer, who has mysteriously sowed his secret horde. Where I beg for you, could you conceal full sack's of weed in an honest house? Especially when you know from sad experience that the Prequisitioners performed their office conscientiously. At anore, they had water a-seller to make sure that the ground had not been newly dark. At war, they had no left, 20 centimetres of a certain garden and explore. After a long debate, we decided to leave things as there were. But if peace returns, and I am able to build a house, it shall have hiding places, wells, tanks, deep dungeons, hollow walls, shall open by me into our secret springs, and two, three, five cellars shall be arrayed when we need the other, which, in case of a need, shall swallow up whole herds. To say nothing of a vase reserved for groceries, meanwhile, our goods being full inside, Ubenbech, who, out of a blindness, gave himself a trouble to search our house. Visiting every cat-board and poking his nose everywhere, had been at no pain to discover them. He declined, he was compelled to requisition the corn. With a smile, he left us our potatoes. Collette was indignant. Why? This fellow does not take our potatoes, because he wants to be amiable, and our neighbourhood had been destroyed of everything. It is a shame. We must share with the others, and we did. A basket to the right, a basket to the left, a basket over the way, our provision well-nined dwindled to nothing. After that, we were in the same state as our neighbours. It is beyond doubt that some people have managed to save many things. And, of course, the German has summarised as much. Two or three days after the first requisitions, they dropped in unawares, and made a very profitable visit. Some took care, for instance, has succeeded in hiding a sack of wheat, and the soldiers were hurled it out of the way. A loaf to celebrate her good fortune. The loaf, yellow and round, was displayed on the table. Why, on the ground, lay the sack, save from the wreck. And little Lysian, a slender girl, 12, as reasonable as a woman, was grinding corn in a coffee mill. Near at hand, a ditch was already full of flour. After second operation of the same kind, it would be fit for kneading. The mother was out. The baby girl, Claire, was busy sucking her thumb with her marring gaze on her sister. The last born was asleep in his cradle. Heavy steps bloke the silence. Big shadows appear on the door sill. The pritions, the coffee mill's top short, are the non-commissioned officer said. You have corned, you stow it. No, sir. It is just a little bit I have cleaned with a mama. You stow it, reply the soldier. Don't you know that everything belongs to the Germans? If you have corned, you must have stolen it. And the percussionists carried away in triumph the small sack, the beautiful golden loaf, and even a ditch full of half-ground flour. On coming back, Madame Tuguea found Lysian in tears, Claire whipping in imitation of her sister. And Tuguea, ever ready to make an abhorred screaming at the top for his voice. After this fate to visit, we had still more hopes to take in our belt. Nothing was ever left on our table. The ditches, few in number, were immediately divided into seven paths, and everyone thought when rising from table, I could begin again with pleasure. The question of light was another plaque of our life. The last drop of petroleum, the last traces of linseed oil, had been converted into smoke a long time before. We were obliged to use horse oil, like our neighbours. Horse oil? Oh, forever. And even norse it, the membranes. Always half-conjured, browned, sticky, stinky. It made its boat manipulator sick for an hour. This oil was manufactured by a man in the village. Then he could procure a dead horse, not too lean. And as we could not get as much as we had wished, we had to sparing up. The villagers simply pour it into an old sardine box, and we, leaning against the metal brim, smoked, charred, smelled nasty, and gave us little light as possible. Inspired of our effort, this half-liquid matter energenetically refueled to ascend into the lamp, and we were forced to let it burn to openly in a receptable of some kind or other, and supported by an ingenious system of pinch. In fact, it was so ingenious that the weak were swamped in the oil to every moment. And we were left groping about the dark whose air was infected with the smell of a burnt flesh, dull for evening. Still more dull for night, we no longer slept as we had slept before. The hoses serenade. In order to give a larger apartment to the banquet, Genevires and I had to be satisfied with a small room, which is on the level with the yard and icy cold in winter. A simple rush mad cover, the pavement, the stove was small, the fuel rare, our banquet thinned. The hoses has requisitioned two others. He went to bed cheering with cold. Our hot water bottle alone gave us a little life. As to sleep, one does not sleep much in an invented country. Every moment, some unwanted noise makes you start, and then, lumbering of the cannon disturbs you, and the thought of the absence sends a thrill through your heart. And then you ask yourself, how long, how long? In February 1915, the end seemed to have been postponed. Our soldiers, who come back next spring, said the peasants, resigned to fade. They all waited for their return. And long were the night. I know people who went to bed at five o'clock without dinner, for good reasons, and got up at about eight o'clock. How many pangs and cats that wander in the darkness? Geneva and I dredded the change of evening, and it was open midnight before we make up our mind to blow out the light. Many a nightmare started us, keeping us awake for the rest of the night. Who shall describe the horror of the dreams dreamed during the war? The dreams of the conquered. Every night brought his own vision. But two came back with a most distressing obstinacy. A landscape covered with snow, a great deal of snow round top mountains. The wind chosen the branches of the fir trees. It looked like the verset. Why, Posey, are you in the verset? How can the wind make such a noise through the branches? I see by one fir tree, black against the gloomy sky, and I hear it thunder. Yet the thunder never rolls in winter. I see a crow, whirling round and round before it alight. There's nothing under the fir trees, but I know something must be there. Here I is. It is black. It is long. The crow hovers. I do not stir. My feet are sunk in the snow. Yet I come nearer. Or rather the thing is approaching. Yet it is exactly what I thought. It is a dead body. Its uniform is untouched. Its face, the eyes sockets are empty. Who is it? Who is it? The crow has torn out his eyes. Yes, we buried the scout in Chauviny. Who is it? Oh God! He that is nearer to me in the world. Posey, I tree with terror and a wolf panting. The wind mowed through the trees of the garden, and from time to time see, as if to allow its flagging interlocutor, the cannon to roll instead of itself. It was impossible to try and sleep again, but we also used to dreamt while awake the invaded country thousands and thousands of people are thus thinking in the dark, their hands are clutched in prayer, or clinched, or convulsively pressed, or relaxed out of utter awareness. It is the hour when the absent are present, what family has not won or severed numbers at the front. And for many months an abyss had grown between us, which cannot be crossed. But at night they come back. In the dark we see the dear faces smile, we watch their familiar gesture, we hear their familiar voices. Shall we be allowed to see them again here below? Where are they? Where are the strong arms that embrace me when I murmur? Pussy, I am cold. Where are the beloved ones? The mother are at prayers, the mother are crying, sisters, wives, all that I look trick with horror at the sight that pass before their eyes. Where are the beloved ones? They have been dead perhaps these last six months. Their bodies may be rotting among the barbed wild, they may have been blown to pieces by an explosion, or swollen by a fissiating gas, or burned in the flames, or crouched beneath earthworks, or riddled by grapeshort, or torn by balls, their bodies which have been charred, cared for, kissed, and we go on hoping them, thinking them alive, safe and sound. Shall we know whether they are dead or alive, whether strong and healthy, or moaning upon the bed in the hospital? Our souls, our eager heart, are longing for delivery, and the day it comes we perhaps bring with it is the bitterest sorrows. Most families will have to mourn a dead one, the whole country will be sung in grief, ratio weeping for her children, and refusing to be comforted. We shall be despised and stripped of everything. We leave before the hope of meeting again, our loved ones, and how many will never come back, and while they die, receive their murderers. They sleep under our roofs, eat the fruit of our labour, and range over us. The want of news, the present of the Germans, such were the sad things of our life. Oh, they were present, always present. It was impossible to forget them, even for one moment. They pursued out in our dreams. They haunted us. How often I have found myself stretched on a road, on an icy-cold road in a barren country, and the men came galloping up with loud shouting, and they could not move. The cover-cate was going to crush me. The who said the who says, once more I set up a cry. I woke up, stirred, voices resounded in the street. The officer's evening party was at an end. The key fumbled at the lock. Ubenvich was coming back. It was one o'clock, or two or three. I heard the dog's patter along the yard. They wanted to identify the visitor. The cannon rumbled with a sluggish sound. The hours were slow, slow. At breakfast, Antonea often said, challengeably, just mind what I say, mother, one morning you will see the whole of us come up, sinking, dancing, laughing, perfectly fit for Belém, to be sure one would go mad for less. Our lie was dourer than anyone's. Fancy six women shut up in a house, having nothing particular to do, always engrossed by the same tiring thought. Lesser is an evil, very difficult to bear in invaded territory. You wait, you do nothing else, you seem to be in a condition that cannot go on for long. Works to what purpose? For whose sake, and what work to do, serve the men whom the Germans have requisitioned, and who, of course, tied themselves as little as possible. Everyone drags out his days. The beggar, the teachers, the cobbler, are the only person of the village really busy. They are their occupations, as we had but our needles to fill up our free hours. Very soon, they have done out all clothes, set them to write, and distributed them among the poor. There was a family of seven children whose mother has just died, and whose clothes we kept in decent condition, but it was not enough. We, too, yarned our lives away. Ten times a day we cry aloud for the means have escaped. Escaped to live again in active life, to see people who are not Germans, to know what is going on, to live a gleam of help came. It was in the month of March the garden was already strewn with snow jobs, prim roses, and crocuses. Capacity was harder to bear than ever. One day the rural constable made an announcement. He appeared to our eyes proud with a golden nimbus, and more dressling vent than archangel. His voice was sweeter than honey. He said, the person who want to leave the invaded territory to go into other part of the front may have their names put down at a tower, with the exception of the men from 14 to 60. This cost so great an emotion among us, that we well-nined created this life suddenly and simultaneously. We kept on the lookout of Bubenbit, when he should come home to demand further particulars. This Bubenbit did not please us at all. He is aggrieved that no Prussian could have pleased us. Beyond this life, we entertained to the whole race was grafted a personal version to him. He was dark-haired, middle-sight, short-legged, with a solid torso, toppled by a big, negligent head. He had a regular feature, deceitful eyes, and looked something of a ray. He was said to be nearly related to a general, and he thought himself iristible. How dissipated he looked, he said the first time he saw him, and one of his soldiers whispered, in Madame Lenore's ear, left him, not bad, but many women, many women, that's not good. In fact, Bubenbit led a most disillusioned life. He soon brought confession upon morning, and his stay there was the commencement of a debauch that caused scandal throughout the rigid. With us, he was at first all smiles, but our looks soon to him, and he was contained with a short bow when he happened to meet one of us, which was rare, for we carefully avoided him. At least, he said, he's not too dull with it, he understands that we looked out at the Germans, and he does not want to have us punished for it. We were candid, Bubenbit was not rude and unmandid like Von Behausen, and therefore, his methods were different. All the same, he bore us a grudge for having been insensible to his charms, only he looked upon to revenge as a cold ditch, but he swore that we should pay it dearly for the scorn of the Germans, and he waited his opportunity, he was sure to seize it, even if it limb with a lame foot. For the plusset, he encouraged us to go and gave most comfort to particulars about the journey, which would be an easy one, the train would take thousands of people to Switzerland, and we in four or five days at the farthest we should be in Paris. We would go indeed, rather than stay behind, we would have made a journey in a cattle truck, upon our head, or on our knees, five days to go to Paris. What is that? Even were we to spend them sleepless, even were we to starve and squeeze tight like a sediz in a tin box. Who will go? I inquired. There were some who held back. I stay here, declare Madame Valen. Up to now the house has not been plundered. I want to give it as it is. I stay here, said Collette, in her turn. Do you think I will fly before the plushen again? Besides, what to do in Paris? I will give mother company. I saw the front go away. I want to see them come back. Then Yvonne decided. I will stay too. Shall I go and study music in Paris when the plushen are still here? Never. Since mother and Collette remain, I stay with them. After all, the French can be longing coming back. Mother and daughter insisted. Besides, they added, living will be easier when you are away. If in Madame Lenore I managed to give us one or two eggs or a bolt of a meal, this is winful. We will not have to be divided into seven parts. For us, all that is left for our potatoes. For us, the provisions for macaroni in the canopy of the bed of our plushen. After a long discussion, the thing was settled. We fell into one another arms. Every one of us shed a flood of tears and with fervent hate we made preparation for our departure. Add the idea that we was going to see his mother again. Pierrot had turned as white as sheet and then had begun screaming at the top of his voice. Mother, mother, mother he jumped, he danced. We had to tell him that if he were so tiesome we should be a bride to leave him in morning and he became as quiet as a lamb. Our bags were soon packed and with feeling heart we awaited our departure. The announcement of the journey did not arouse the enthusiasm which the German had expected. Reubenberg had given us a grand and imposing picture of those evacuation of a mouse. We proposed, he said, we proposed evacuating 40% of the civil population. Why should we go on feeding so many useless people? We shall but keep back, he went on. Large landowners and workers we are in need of. At the end of the month our train will start every day. Volunteers will first go than the necessities. The number of volunteers very small. The people reposed no trust at all in the fractions. Do you think the women of the village are aware that they are going to take you to France to a concentration camp rather? You may take my word for it. Some people had first left Shawnee and now they are somewhere out in the open country up to the knees in the mud. We laughed at them but why should the German take charge of us? There will be the brides to feed out. No matter where they give us, it was all of no use. Nobody was willing to go. Not even those who eagerly wish to escape. The organizer of the convoys were amazed. They determined that certain persons should go by foul means since they would not go by foul means. The commandant of every village was ordered to eject so many persons. The number for morning was fixed at 20. There were two volunteers besides ourselves. An elderly lady, Madame Chavon, and her granddaughter both wanted to go back to Paris. Thirteen reluctant immigrants were then to be picked up among the people. Uwembich chose a random woman from Bray. Her five small children and her old father then three often boys and a family including an invalid father a mother, a two little girls, these had two sons, sixteen and eighteen years old, who would stay behind even the parent when they raised an outcry. My poor boys, the mother moaned, am I going to abandon them like that? We beg nothing for the Germans. We want only to be left together. She went to the bureau through herself at the feet of Uwembich, who scouted her demand with disdain, and her kick out of the doors. The morning we were to start she pretended to be Uwembich and kept to her bed. The lieutenant dispatched four men who took her out of her bed, healers of her resistance, and made into the cart, with a blanket as a sole wrapper. We heard the poor woman sob while she put on her stays and petticoats in a jointing cart that took us too long. And the fault of it was that another woman of Cerny wished for nothing better than to go. Since my sister and father are sent away, she said, I should rather go with them. I have no mind to stay here alone with my two babies. He also not to be three-person eager to stay with force to go. Three others, nothing late to go, were bidden to stay, but had our leader settled a matter. In other villages it was still worse a man to have a barrendon set his house and fight and hang himself rather than leave. Some persons were sent away because the Germans collected their houses for one purpose or another. And Vivière, the wife of agentin was compelled to leave her well-furnished house for the reason that is pleased those gentlemen. So a blind woman and her invalid husband both aged 75 were banished from venue. In tears they left their small house where they had lived happily for many a year. Their garden, whose fruit was fishing for their scanty need, beside they had a few fowls and little money. And so they were knocked in the leaves a charge upon the Germans. Of course they expected everything to be plundered and destroyed and weak and old as they were. They saw no hope that they would ever come back. We were in tears at one moment distressed and thought that we left three of our own people in the left at another, mad with joy that we should soon be at liberty. Or trembling with fear we should hear bad news from those whose fate was hidden from us. About the end of March after many tears had been shed in brazes and kisses exchanged after the very dogs had been hung we found ourselves in front of the bureau with other departing travelers. We all got into two big cars and sat down onto our luggage. The departures were somewhat delay. We had to wait for the woman who did not want to go away. At ten the car had set up. Goodbye. We shall see you later in Paris. Bbembet cried. It was the parting kick off the earth. Then you will come as a prisoner replied Antoinette lying aside all prudence. The officer bloke out laughing and turned a deaf ear with a great deal of adjoining. The cars took us away and we soon locked sight of the pale faces of Madame Valaine and her daughters. Twos or dimes on horseback accompanied us. Thus we were enrailed among the immigrant. We alighted in lawn and were shown into a huge hall adjoining the station. The little immigrant still screaming. The refractories of women had not left of crying. Pierrot fell uneasy and hung on to my arm. We dragged our luggage along with a great deal of trouble. The hall we were taken to was already crowded with hundreds of persons. From early morning the refugee had been arriving in great numbers. The walls nailed upon full upright pieces would serve as a table and benches. Besides the picture of the emperor, the wall was shapely decorated with avar's inscriptions. God with us was not absent nor was God punished England in letters. The feet high, their mothers scolding overstop the general noise. The old people looked scared and did not know what to do. On the wrapped table soldier would pat it off sticky, great soup. A smell of burnt grease floated in the air. We were waiting for our turn to go to a small room where three nesses of the Red Cross were busy tracing the immigrant as they pleased. No papers, no letters, at two everyone had fired off before these searches and we were ordered to start again so through the street of four the pit of a crowd wended his way to the station about 1200 immigrants surrounded by the soldier from their tread holes the inhabitants there at us. Truly a more miserable herd never was seen. The Germans have chosen to send away the poorest among the poor of our villages. Bare-headed women, righteous children, vaguely men, sick people, creepers, idiots all were laden and overladen with puzzles, baskets and bundles. Two or three cards to convey the heaviest market but everyone preferred keeping what was dearest to him. We too were overladen we made what haste we could among the grey crowd we had walked a mile I could hardly carry my bag any longer at one moment it even dropped from my hands I approached an officer Steve and stout who seemed to be the manager of the caravan sir I besold please order a moment rest I can't go any further no no no hold if you can't carry your things ask someone else someone else it was easy to say I look around me despairingly the people were all as wary as I a fellow stuck to my arm and Jenea was somewhere in front Jenevier was spent with fatigue near as a soldier seemed touched with pity I'm sorry I can't help you but it's forbidden at land I caught sight of a big fellow who carried his fortune in a handkerchief he was one-eyed, one arm but he was willing to take charge of my bag I was then able to help Jenevier with hers he was safe we stopped every other minute put down our common load and taking up again run forward to fall into place where were we going to he went on trampling through the mud with the noise of a flock of sheep and to crown all they came on a heavy rain which the poor crying children received on their dirty little noses we had left the suburbs and the road now passed through the open country at about three miles from the station we perceived an immense change of third class carriages there was waiting for us he was carried by a storm each one set to himself we were of a six person in one carried we and two ladies of morning the grandmother and the granddaughter we exchanged congratulations we had been told that the journey might be difficult one of the hardest stages was passed we sat down to recover our breath stretch our steep limbs and then look around us the carriage we were in had been used to convey troops there would be deck with inscriptions in pencil some without much expense of thought merely wish that God should punish England are the clamour for the dead of those pigs of a Frenchman or stated that French blood is good pure, conscientiously rubbed out with his handkerchief as much as he could after many maneuvers marches and cut marches the train decided to start it was about four o'clock oh memorable hour we saw the gate of our prison open a little was it possible that we were going away was it true could we say in our turn within four days Paris we were made we kissed one another then we thought is why to put our thing in order this carriage would doubt it save us as a shelter as far as the Swiss frontier perhaps for two or three days the first thing then was to make ourselves comfortable our feet were cold suppose we put on our slippers as soon as said then done when our first join has somewhat cooled down and we were properly installed we watched the landscape the train went slowly through a dull country the clouds seemed to crawl along the ground and the miss moistened the paint of the windows we had hardly gone to an hour when the train stopped and left half of his carriages in the station then we resumed our journey and soon made a second halt we could not read the name of the station where we were at we did not know even what line we were on the engine was reserved then stopped some time after it allowed to whistle soldiers went along carriages and threw the doors open go down or back luggage and in great hate we put on our shoes tie our shoals and clocked together gathered our bags and jumped out on the line many cries and calls were heard at last the train to empty itself there was a whistle and of it moved there we were about 600 of us standing on a steep bank and wondering what's going to happen next no station was to be seen the country seemed deserted pudget land on the left hill stripped by the winter on the right the immigrant uneasy in their minds bustled about women felt a weeping relation sought one mother an old man bent with aid and walking awry a crap moved to and flow my wife I have lost my wife thus he moaned to himself looking up for the weak arm that would help his greater debility the babies cry with cold a sharp wind pierced us to the marrow the rain cut our faces and our heart filled with fear while the night fell on the anxiety of a miserable herd living in the form end of chapter 10 chapter 11 part 1 of 6 women and the invasion this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org 6 women and the invasion by Gabrielle and Marguerite Yerta chapter 11 part 1 under the bridge of the railway was a high road the soldiers directed the crowd towards it get down get down they cried gesticulating all the while narrow steps had been cut in the darts the bank was very steep yet everyone ventured down the young people held the old ones the nimblest carried luggage and infants the children tumbled forward upon all fours on getting to the road we left the roads and bundles we abandoned ours into the hands of the soldiers happened what might to our things our courage failed us to take charge of them again who knew how many miles we were to walk go on go on our guardians cried and the sorry band so much the more lamentable as they were drenched to the skin vent their bodies and trudged off again what does this unexpected halt mean we asked one another with a mixture of curiosity and joy the road with hedges on each side after we had met with a bridge in a crossing took us to a village standing in front of their houses the people moved with pity watched our beggarly crowd go by in the twilight dabbling in the mud and not knowing where they were being taken to we did not even know the place we were in the name we read on a finger post did not say anything to us at the top of the street two gendarmes on back divided the herd into two parts so many heads to the right so many to the left we were pushed on to the right we went to the right we'd left the village and went down a road bordered with high trees that led into the open country they were right all the same those who said we would be landed in the fields mowed a woman then we took a shortcut between the banks we were all over mud at length on the slope of the hill we caught side of a dark mass a large farm with vast outhouses we had reached the goal the lower windows glimmered a few guards were seen in the room of the ground floor we entered the kitchen where whole beams blazed on the hearth the soldiers bustled about it was no light matter to settle in a short time 350 persons crowded in together in the courtyard and they hurried over the job so many immigrants in the house in the barns and the stables straws to be had everywhere do as you can the people did as they could moving about kept them warm was their only means we were among the privilege we had been presented with a small room at the angle of the house on the first story it was very scantily furnished a spring mattress in an iron frame a child's bedstead two trusses of straw pero your couch would be fit for a king we buried him in the straw with his clothes on and he'd close upon him he was not cold he fell asleep but we lay dying with cold all three on the narrow spring mattress and the draught chilled us to the bone in vain we wrapped ourselves in shawls and cloaks we could get neither warm nor sleep we had brought with us a candle and we let it burn, not without remorse since we expected many another night of the same kind a change of weather happened the wind suddenly rose and swept away the clouds we thought there would be a frost a cold bleak wind was howling around the house the weather cocks creaked the boards in the half ruined sheds cracked and the 350 emigrants shuddered with cold in the freezing rooms of the farm and in the draughty barns a mile and a half away at the sugar mill 360 others were shivering in halls and cellars in the guard room downstairs the soldiers gave a straw mattress to a poor old man who had terrible pains in the back and who did not cease to wail the whole night long upstairs in the attic there were 40 persons among them 15 children of charity there was no rest to their weeping nor to the patter of their feet these small refugees rather than go down the steep black steps into a colder blacker place relieve themselves at the angles of the beams we saw with horror a trickle come down between the joists and run down our walls twice heavy steps shook the lobby the door opened the voice counted us one, two, three, four the soldiers were going there around half frozen we ventured downstairs to go and warm ourselves in the kitchen but it was already crowded with about 40 women with their babies either in front of the fire or squeezed together on the benches the air was unbreathable we went back to our icy chamber benumbed with cold our limbs gathered up together our chins on our knees our feet stuck in our muffs with a sore throat and a giddy head we made up our minds to wait for the morning to take stock of our situation and to find out what place fate in the Germans had deposited us in the whole vierrache teeming with lovely hamlets I warrant there is no other so pretty as Jawfill we lay up the hill on the high road to Gies and its houses first set in the straight row along the road soon take a shortcut and then descend the vale where they meet with the pearling seer they dawdle there in small knots and storm a second hill topped by a white steeple crown church this building is not in the least handsome yet it sowed dissection among the habitants Jawfill East Hill laid claim to the pious edifice that Jawfill West Hill got it Jawfill East Hill forthwith took to free thinking flung itself into the socialist party and swore it would never cross the seer to gratify the spiritual needs of its souls on the other hand Jawfill West Hill took a most serious turn swore only by holy water sprinklers and stoles and sang nothing but vespers and mattons Jawfill in ordinary times gives itself holy up to the cultivation of apples to cattle breeding and to worker weaving each occupation adds a feature to the village the apple trees fill the well-kept orchards that handmade all around those meadows that stretch afar off feed the cows and the willows which will presently be converted into baskets form thick hedges and make a draught-oared pattern in the fields the village indeed is packed with osseers cut tied in bundles placed up right along the streets and watered by the brook so they grow green and are covered with catkins just like their brothers that have not been cut the houses of Jawfill are small, red and white beneath a slate hood their windows laugh a roguish laugh on their roofs are fantastic weather cocks and in front of them small gardens in which boxed trees flourish cut into shapes in short, Jawfill looks at one simple and smart modest and satisfied in its mere aspect should cheer up the way-worn wanderer though this rustic Eden pleased us we had no mind to take up our abode and the day after our arrival we managed to ask an officer what is the matter what are we doing here oh, the departure has been postponed the organizers of the convoy are not in agreement but how long are we going to stay here? not longer than a few days you need not be afraid although we were forewarned our simple minds would not believe in duplicity we were reassured a few days would soon glide by when a soldier talked of a whole week he astonished us the chief cook in the kitchen where he was super-intending a swarm of busy skullions dared to murmur three weeks they were shot at by everybody in the farm and in the sugar mill the emigrants settled themselves as well as they could a pitiful place in which straw was expected to do everything the straw served as seats and mattresses it served as blankets it served as shutters and padding nothing but straw to preserve oneself from the cold and the cold was terrible I think we shall never suffer from anything as we suffer from the cold it was the icy chill of the seventh cycle of hell the chill that pierces you to the very marrow of the bones was the chill of death for a whole week we tried vainly to warm ourselves the weather was clear the wind blew with fury the frozen ground was as hard as stone icicles were dangling from the gutters and the emigrants teeth were chattering they bent their shoulders thrust their hands in their armpits and wandered up and down some had on only rufflin and clothes from the yard they went up to the attic from the barns to the kitchen in quest of a bit of warmth and they looked so cold at the mere sight of them heighten your misery in the sugar mill some people had the luck to lodge in rooms that could be heated but one of those who dwelled in attics through which the wind was blowing just as it did outside were in cellars where they sat in a perpetual draft the manifold misery and the sicknesses of was beyond description I remember a room in the sugar mill where about 50 emigrants had been huddled together men and women, old people and children in ill health or in good it was a long icy cold room with a low ceiling feebly lighted by two deep windows in the shade of loopholes at the threshold the odor of sick and dirty humanity suffocated you the children squalling, the mothers the men's rough voices stunned you in the dimly lighted room you perceived a path open through the straw spread out on both sides in which you saw creatures crouched or lying you stumbled on baskets, kitchen, utensils and bundles had to shun wet linen in children's clothes which the women had stretched out in the fallacious hope of drying them when your eyes got somewhat used to the sober light of the place you were able to single out the sick or the old people lying about the straw the mothers suckling their babies the manlini against the wall you saw their pale worn faces their hands benumbed with cold their thin clothes and if you stopped to talk to them they told you many bitter heart-rending stories in a corner a girl of twenty was at the last gas she had but one lung left and spat blood while small children were playing about her it was the hopeless horror of a concentration camp yet the commandant of the convoy a lieutenant of the reserve a good man after all and the father of a family did his best with the poor means at his disposal once even we saw a tear roll down his cheek at a distressing sight the weather being inclement he gave orders to have the greater part of the emigrants lodged in the village the sick first the children would be provided for there was great excitement the choice was made and after three days in a good deal of writing the farm and the sugar-meal had but a hundred occupants left all huddled together in the few habitable rooms the rest encamped in empty houses slept on straw a dozen in a room at any rate they were under cover and could warn themselves who accept the hospitality of the inhabitants of the village such was our case charming people gave a shelter and placed two rooms at our disposal we had beds after we had spent three nights on a spring mattress and had shivered all the while how pleasant it was to go to bed but our apartment was not heated had not been lived in for a long time was impregnated with damp and chilled as we were we recovered warmth only a few days later the life of the camp was organized after the military fashion we were expected to obey at a glance in the morning as early as half past seven the emigrants hastened to the sugar-meal or the farm where each was inscribed in the place where he slept the night before a grown-up member of each family presented the cards of those with him in the two courtyards the emigrants filed pass from right to left an answer to their names mangled by the Feldwebel the daily allowance of coffee armed with saucepans jugs pots and cups women and urchins went to the kitchen to have them filled they returned home at eleven o'clock with porangers, pales and coppers they made again for the farm or the sugar-meal to bring them back full of soup toward evening they wandered their way a third time to fetch coffee for their supper about twice a week we were told in the morning that bread would be distributed to the farm it was another errand to run everyone produced his card and received an allowance for several days if the Feldwebel announced in the afternoon at three the emigrants will be passed in review the whole village was in a flutter there was no trifle to drag the old people and the babies out from their heaps of straw to hold up the lane to lead the blind and to persuade the idiots the ragged army every day more beggarly hobble along to one of the rallying points in the evening about eight o'clock the drum was beaten by way of curfew bell everyone shut himself up and blew out his candle if he had one silence spread over the village the emigrants laying aside their cares for a while fell asleep and the night beneath its veil hid unnumbered miseries we were forbidden to go out of the village in a pass was necessary if we would visit a farm half a mile from the hamlet we were real captives and no communication whatever was allowed with the neighborhood what an organization how many rules for such a short stay some people will think a short stay one day followed another and they were all alike and always saw us in Joffil next week the departure the Germans said with unshaken impudence hope put us to the torture one week followed another we were still there for two months eight long and tedious weeks we led this life of prisoners thinking that the next day would set us free every morning about eight I left our lodging to answer to the roll call I was generally behind him and ran along the path that led to the farm every day with a hope which sank and withered shall we get news today I hardly dared believe it my feet being frozen my face cut by the wind I made haste in April the weather grew no milder but the approaching spring was visible a few flowers ventured to show themselves along the hedges and the birds sang at the full pitch of their voices thus while I ran along the black birds in rapturous joy whistled each and all fleet, fleet she had faith in the Germans the tom-tip ruthlessly so sold me, so sold me you mustn't trust anyone so sold me instill less the Germans so sold me and the wind jeered at me from the naked branches and the bryhorinny small golden stars laughed in my face spreading its wreaths along the path I reached the farm and the woman gathered it once around me they caught sight of Genevieve or Antoinette who was the same thing we were taken by storm madame madame have you heard any news when are we going alas within four or five days the officer said but you know if he is to be believed a strain of protestation showered down you will see they will leave us here ah we shall never go to free France they will take us to Germany and we can't go on living here our brats have no more shoes our clothes are in rags it is no use to darn them they fall in pieces but the worst is that we are hungry we could stand it but our children our little ones are hungry and it was only too true we were hungry everyone was hungry what did the Germans not feed us of course they did and on what twice a day each immigrant got a bowl of coffee a bowlful or a dishful as you like which was not given out with a niggered hand lukewarm it always was and thin too stimulants ought not to be misused and blackish with a smell of mud was without sugar or milk and there was no danger of feeling heavy after you had swallowed it if the children fell a weeping in the night after having swallowed one cup of this coffee for their dinner their mothers knew they were not going to have an attack of indigestion we got bread it was real authentic German bread kneaded and baked by Germans colored outside like gingerbread it was turtledove grey inside and would have looked rather tempting but for the unbaked or moldy parts we suppose that rye flour pea flour and potato fecula were largely used in the making of it some pretended that they found sawdust in it too I could not affirm this I was rather inclined to think that chemicals would induce the heavy dough to rise when knew this somewhat sour tasted bread was nice enough and we ate it without distrust the first days we spent in joyful as the bracing air gave us an appetite alas it soon caused us pains in the stomach sickness, inflammation of the bowels in short put our digestive organs out of order the emigrants ate it all the same indeed they could not get enough of it the first three weeks the Germans made a show of generosity every person received a loaf every third day the weight of one loaf was supposed to be three pounds in reality it never exceeded 1300 grams but the daily ration was sufficient and nobody complained unfortunately the allowance became more and more stingy during the last month everyone received one pound every third or even fourth day 125 grams our daily pittance do not represent a large slice and the people began to clamor for food we got soup we're entitled to a ladle of soup by way of lunch shall I describe this mixture is it not already famous in both continents do our prisoners not feast upon it in Germany it is a gray thick substance which curdles like flour paste whose chief ingredients is fecula each portion contained five or six tiny bits of meat coming undoubtedly from over fat animals for we never saw scrap of lean a few horse or kidney beans a little rice or barley mixed with bits of straw bits of wood and other scraps of vague origin Antoinette had once a real godsend she discovered in her soup plate she discovered how can I tell oh shade of abedelil inspire me to paraphrase this she discovered one of these anima which played take oratorical precautions she found a louse on a hair the whole boiled this took away what was left of our strength and we swore we would rather waste away and slowly die up and eat such stew in the future look at this madame look at this hodgepodge at home we would not have given this rotten stuff to our pigs we must feed upon it and give it to our children Montsourge-Charvay, our host cast a look of dismay at our porridges as to myself I should die beside this but I would never taste it and yet the emigrants were obliged to eat it from the first days of our arrival we set our house at order our bedrooms were at Montmoselle-Charvay's but we spent the whole day long at the rural constables the constable, a brave old man from 1870 gave up his large kitchen to us and supplied us with wood at very little cost in a corner of the kitchen stood a large four-post bed which received at night three of our protégés a lady 85 years old and her two granddaughters age seven and twelve years Montmoselle-Maurot, Mimi and Miquette were respectively mother and daughters of a retired officer who lives at Coussi of course the officer his two sons had not been allowed to go and his wife had refused to leave them but they took the chance of sending into France the grandmother and the little girls who had greatly suffered from their life of privation from the first evening the sight of these helpless figures upholding one another had moved our pity they gratefully accepted our proffered friendship and assistance this is then the way we came to rule such a large household at the old constables seven served at once to heat the room and cook the food for excellent reasons our stew was of the simplest a few eggs milk, sugar and butter were to be had in the village but as we had absolutely no other article of food no meal whatever no vegetables no meat we were hungry despite custards and omelettes I said we had tried to swallow the soup we gave it up on account of the adventure aforementioned after a fortnight of earnest endeavors so much the worse we said we will live with empty stomachs many others were in the same plight we were privileged beings for only a few among the emigrants had a little money enough to get something besides the usual fare supplied us by our jailers I leave you to imagine the appetite of those who were reduced to bread coffee and soup and all and remember that among them there were eighty children under ten years who were not merely starved but half naked as well the charity children were more miserable than the others in the bitter cold weather they wound rags round their legs by way of stockings their shoes were shapeless things held together by string their trousers were torn their jackets had lost their sleeves the girls frocks were in rags their distress melted the people of the village to tears as but four hundred inhabitants and if their religious and political passions are lively their hearts are none the less warm jovial east hill and jovial west hill show themselves equally kind to the emigrants and not only kind but forbearing and the emigrants needed forbearance they were not the elite and they were guilty of many a misdeed Montsourcheauvet well-nigh died of anger the day he discovered that his beloved fish pond had been secretly rid of its finest inhabitants another farmer was breathless with rage when he saw the potatoes he had planted the day before dug up in the morning ah you rascally emigrants of course some people will feel deeply shocked at such behaviour and deem it a hanging matter for instance well-fed people secure from danger who were far off-scale at the Germans the emigrants and the typhus smitten people with the very same feelings but I who once numbered with those emigrants who liked them was a prey to hunger I could not find the smallest stone to throw at them in the inhabitants of Joville who were the witnesses of our life through no stone either none of them caused our chains to be drawn tighter by complaining to the Germans for the invaders of the north of france are very severe to the people who transgressed the eighth commandment thou shall not steal the Jovillians did even better from all quarters they brought us into the school mistress of the village quantities of clothes fit to wear if not no and these were distributed among the raggedest refugees we ourselves with two others did our best to clothe the orphan girls in the poor things were extremely proud of their new frocks made up of shreds and patches someone gave them wooden shoes and the bruised little feet could walk on a lonely high road without fear the emigrants soon looked upon us as their private property thought us good for everything an old woman will come to us for instance with an imperious air I have been told that you are visitors of the poor and then some request followed the unfortunate visitors of the poor would sometimes have been glad to live on charity themselves well this reminds me that we did once receive alms following a path by the river bordered with pleasant houses it was a day of perquisitions and the soldiers having turned everything upside down had left the quarter which we were traversing a good old woman was coming from the riverside with a loaf in her hand in the mere sight of the white light crumb made our mouths water the woman stopped and said with a sighed long glance you see they don't want to know I have a little flower left in my loaf in the hole of a willow tree she burst out laughing and we chimed in I suppose she noticed our admiring gaze for she said all of a sudden would you like to have some she tripped along quickly and with short steps went to her kitchen came back with a knife and cut off two large slices which she held out to us we seized the bread with an avidity hardly tempered with shame and stammered out joyful thanks this moved the fashion of a good woman fancy they are hungry what a pity such lovely girls and so jumping from one stone to another in the muddy path down the river we burst into unrestrained laughter and we devoured our bread which was the real bread the white bread of France we had indeed not a few windfalls Montsourve more than once presented us with one of those pretty round loaves which he needed and baked himself also were hand in glove with a farmer who sometimes in secrecy let us have a few potatoes or a pound or two of flour and thus gave us the means of adding something to our meager fare a few treats of that kind helped us to hold out we looked like corpses and we were one after another the victims of strange pains caused by the cold the bread and the continual excitement End of Chapter 11 Part 1 Chapter 11 Part 2 of 6 Women and the Invasion This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org 6 Women and the Invasion by Gabriel and Margarit Yerte Chapter 11 Part 2 Most of the immigrants were ill 8 of them died we then had occasion to see and admire the way in which the Germans organized the sanitary service for the use of civilians from the very first day an empty house had been bedecked with the title of hospital and endorned with the scruction of the Red Cross a large room directly opening into the street was chosen for consultations two smaller rooms containing symmetrical heaps of straw served to receive the patients there was a permanent orderly in the camp and a doctor came daily from Marl Immigrants, choose what sickness you like you will be cared for and quickly influenza diphtheria, bronchitis inflammation of the lungs burst upon the immigrants but we soon discovered that it was not easy to be admitted to the sick ward I had to call four times on the officer before the avowage saved to take away an old couple who despite the Siberian cold lived alone in a barn with big holes in its roof and a poor woman coughed pitifully and her old companion could only bring her lukewarm coffee and heat upon her mountains of straw she died two days after she had been transferred to the hospital an old woman died her body was carried away and quickly another old woman took her place on the very same couch of straw a dying woman utterly unconscious was left a weakman attended to I assure you the corner she was in was a very sink said the man who took upon himself to clean it when the corpse had been taken away and my wife and children had to live in this infected spot our medical attendant was a young coxcomb, fair hair regular featured and harsh looking a glass was fixed in his eye about half past nine his carriage drawn by a pretty horse pulled up, carelessly he threw the reins to his groom he alighted and penetrated his domain his lordship sat down in an easy chair crossed his legs took a haughty survey of the patients who called upon him and spoke in a curt and supercilious tone he was soon held to be a villainous fellow he is as wicked as the devil a woman said with a look of dismay a great many of them wanted their children to be examined by the doctor I would rather die in straw than go to him for myself a mother said but my poor little girl but what was worse the Prussian doctor did not care a fake for sick children he had been told that every baby was entitled to a liter of milk which one of the farmers of the village would deliver to the mother on presentation of a note of hand but a child above two years was allowed to drink milk only if the doctor deemed it expedient for its health a woman we knew had a little girl not yet free in a shower of bullets and grapeshot for nearly a month had lived in the depths of a dark stone quarry with hardly anything to eat since then the child had been as white as wax she had no strength at all and she was always staring straight before her as if she had beheld horrible things as she was penniless the woman was forced to bring her child to this medicaster sir you see my little girl I think milk would do her good he had but to write a note and she would have had it no I haven't any I have no cows in my house and the doctor burst out laughing thinking himself very witty anyhow the mother said with her teeth ground when he stays at home there is a brute beast in this house worse than a cow another beggar woman had twins about two years old one of them ate soup and bread and throwed like couchgrass and finally had left their native hamlet had fed on indigestible things and had nowhere to lay her head had grown pale and sickly she had ceased to run alone took no food and pined away visibly her mother brought her to the doctor that child what should I prescribe her she is ailing an account of her being French French children are all rickety and weakly how am I to help it lay the blame on your race before leaving the little doctor who sometimes gave a glance a single one at the rooms of the hospital then stepped into his carriage took up the reins, cracked his whip and as harsh featured as ever put his horse to a gallop however some attention had to be paid to the sick the orderly was there for that purpose he was a big stout man whose eyes seemed starting from their sockets he did not like to be cold up in the afternoon he took a nap and still less in the night his remedies the same for every sickness were most economical keep our low diet apply cold compresses yet he understood his business well enough our hostess Mademoiselle Charvet a wealthy landowner suddenly fell ill of a disquieting hemorrhage no doctor in the village not even in the neighborhood we ran in haste to fetch Gogolais oh please please come Gogolais lost no time in coming showed a situous attention to the patient punctured her and rode on a bicycle tomorrow in order to fetch medicines a few days after a poor immigrant mother of six small children was attacked by the same disease he was sent for in vain and left her 48 hours without help was indeed a miracle that she did not depart this life this proves clearly that to the mind of a German to be a social democrat the skin of a capitalist will ever be superior to the skin of a starvin the physician was not our sole caller a few others came when the straw was still clean and when we received pound of bread a day a stout commandant and three days after a thin commandant came to visit the camp both the stout and the thin looked extremely well satisfied and seemed to say what splendid organization perfectly everything is getting on really nobody but Germans could settle things like that the thin commandant was escorted by the official interpreter of the camp he never asked a question of the people for many reasons the principle being that he did not know the language of Voltaire the very first day he had given a sample of his talents by asking a youth eh wuz kumbian anes wuz avior and the boy stretching his legs in hand stood there gazing gaping at his interlocutor and his whole countenance answered I don't understand German therefore mimicry and loud cries bore a great part in the relations between soldiers and emigrants the stout commandant peaked himself on French in one of the rooms of the farm he asked you are comfortable here aren't you and the women pickled in respect answered all with one voice yes you get good soup don't you oh yes sir yes you get a lot of bread don't you oh yes sir yes when you reach France you will tell the French you have been leniently dealt with won't you oh yes sir yes the stout commandant went away proud of himself and proud of being one of those Germans who know how to organize camps for refugees rely on our saying how we have been dealt with bantered the old woman the officer's large backs were turned another caller was a clergyman who was quite different from the others the reverend Friar was about 35 he was tall dark haired with malicious eyes and a turned up nose I must say he did his best to comply with our wishes and served the cause of the emigrants from the very beginning he told us that he was very fond of the French yes but the Germans are all fond that his grandmother was a French descent why then she had married a German well let us go on to something else this man was certainly the cleverest German we had met or rather the only clever one we ever met we were all the more amazed to notice once more the abyss that separates the French from the German mind and utter incomprehension of certain delicacies a lack of sensitiveness is peculiar to them and from the very moon our ways of doing and thinking could not be stranger to them and in discussion they are unable to cast out preconceived notions which will ever get the better of reasoning and observation Friar certainly wished to show us kindness and at every turn he told us things which set our teeth on edge yet he wondered to see us stand up for causes which he had looked upon as lost since a long time how I pity France he used to tell us poor degenerate France and he looked quite scared when he saw our anger and heard our vehement protestations he was still convinced victory would be theirs on the other hand he had once declared to us there is a blemish in the character of the Germans they are kind hearted to a fault the German nation is thoroughly kind hearted owing to the circumstances we dare not say all that we wanted to be more content to hint at Belgium oh so many lies have been told you ought not to believe such slanderous accusations as to myself I know that what you are alluding to is false the Germans are too kind hearted to be guilty of the deeds they are charged with such is the enemy's mode of reasoning he denies what they cannot excuse it is very easy in Alsace Lorraine we have been to blame in every way for that declaration to us he is making confession we thought yes we have been too kind hearted over indulgent to the people if we had had a firmer hand everything would have got on much better this blasphemer had some merit let us not be too hard on him our leisure was propituous to gossip and we spent many an hour listening to those who had seen the first tragical events of the invasion their simple unvarnished tales were like so many nightmares for instance there were barge men of Bray whose boat had been split in two by a cannonball and who had escaped death only by swimming and clinging to floating planks there was the woman of Corbinay driven by the Prussians from a village near Saussons with several others she walked to Cerny at a stretch with the Germans ever at her heels the unhappy wretches had covered 40 kilometers of the battle spent with weariness, breathless, tumbling down and trudging off again three of them were killed on the way the woman who gave us an account of this carried her baby aged 18 months throughout this wild race and on the way the poor thing was wounded twice in her mother's arms of Cerny were the poor creatures who were shot up in a deep stone quarry and stayed there with scarcely any food for 27 days when they were taken out and brought to Leon they were pale, hollow cheek and covered with vermin they could hardly walk by themselves and their eyes could not look upon the daylight the people wept as they saw us go by the woman said during the first hours of their sojourn in the stone quarry there had been a tragical incident the fugitives were crouching in the dark when an officer broke in accompanied by soldiers some of you he said had harbored Englishmen we discovered an English officer lying in such and such a barn in such a place we have set the building on fire oh said a man my barn I was yours you knew an Englishman was hidden in it come on the poor man vainly protested against the accusation he was taken away the following day he had not yet returned his wife was greatly disturbed and despite the danger she took her mind to go and try to see him she took some chocolate out of the slender store of the refugees they have thrown him into prison she said and I am sure they will starve him to death the woman went the village was half in ruins and the ruined smoke always deserted she summoned up her courage went straight to her house walked into the yard and close to the dung hill his face fallen in the field saw the corpse of her husband he had been shot twice in the head and his side was pierced with a large wound the victim's brother and the niece from whom we heard this story were not allowed to attend his burial from the same part were two ladies, a mother and her daughter with a newborn baby who were flung out of their house with only a dressing gown and slippers on and driven on without stopping at the bayonet's point till they reached Leon half distracted Serne also belonged to seven men who had been confined in the marie of Camouille and who saw an officer come up and yell in a furious tone your dirty French have discovered our presence here one of you must have made signals that's why we are getting a shower of shrapnel the civilians denied the charge and defended themselves to no purpose you shall spend the whole night in front of the house and if you get knocked on the head it will serve you right the men were drawn up in the street and from evening till morning stood there within reach of their guards' revolvers as if by miracle the cannonades ceased and during the night not a shot was fired upon the village the next day the prisoners were sent to Leon less tragic but just as remarkable was the story of our companions, no row the grandmother so small so weak that we more than once thought her death near at hand in her darlings with their pale faces in their eyes encircled with black major no row owned a large house in Soussi it pleased the invaders and their omnipotence to take possession of eleven rooms and to establish their offices in them the owners had but the use of a single room reserved for the sick father Mademoiselle no row her four children and her mother in law slept all the winter in a cold attic some of them slept on straw but the old grandmother had instead of a bed a kneading trough all the furniture had been carried away scattered about the villager over the trenches to crown all the family had suffered hunger almost unceasingly Soussi had been still less favored with provisions than Morni and only the farmers had managed to lay by some few articles of food one day our old friend told us little Mimi picked up from the Dung Hill a lump of sugar an officer's servant had thrown to the dog she knew her mother had had no food the last two days and brought her this windfall the same little Mimi after she had slept on straw for months together forgot for want of practice her normal vocabulary such words for instance as she and the first evening she asked Antoinette who had adopted her what is the name of those things white things one stretches upon the beds the great many emigrants were thrown out of their villages in September when the Germans had been driven back they had been pushed forward like cattle had been penned up in the citadel of Lyon and left there for weeks for months sleeping on straw and starving all these unhappy wanderers were stranded at Jofu they had met again with their old companion hunger they were persecuted by the cold many lay groaning in the icy shelters of the sugar mill were in the airy attics of the farm and then suddenly came the spring it came in one night a light breath passed over the veil which was soon like a nosegay the meadows grew green the hedges expanded their buds the trees put forth tender leaves the groves were embroidered with periwinkles beneath the thorn bushes came up lords and ladies violets and tufts peeped out along the paths and the meadows were strewn with primroses six small lambs in the keeping of a shepherd girl looked like six white specks on the slope of the green hill the hedges were lively with songs and murmurs the spring wondered much that it did not see the fresh idols it was used to alas love had fled Venus alone allude and Venus saw her altars be sieged with a host of worshipers but pure chaste love had no faithful father was left yet the spring bestowed full hand its gaiety upon all nature I met once with five small emigrants the eldest was about eight years old their clothes were all in rags their feet walked naked on the stones but they had flowers in their arms and their pale faces were bright with the joy of the spring the joy of the spring could we feel glad at it the month of May without France is no longer the month of May this corner of France was we bore the ochre strangers in vain we lay basque in the sun with outstretched arms the sun could not as once it did warm and burn us as if to make us die a voluptuous death in vain did we listen to the watchful nightingale whose song overtopped the noise of the watergate it expressed all the ecstasy and passion of mankind it could no longer make us feel the sweetness of life our hearts were benumbed with grief and had no taste for happiness even the humblest of our companions of our neighbors understood this contrast between the sentiments of us all and the joys which filled nature and we heard poor women see in a mournful tone what misery to think that we must live with the Germans in such fine weather we lived with the Germans in their train came all the ills captivity, sickness, hunger we suffered hunger more than ever since the ration of bread had been reduced almost to nothing the women made loud complaints and even talked of mutiny the commandant of the camp who was no longer he of the first days replied to my complaints lifting up his arms in a gesture of impotency and indifference they are hungry, how am I to help it I have nothing to give them I rather see them eat that wouldn't disturb me in the least do you think I should care about it a few women with their children and a cripple ran away thinking they might reach their village they were overtaken some at five others at ten kilometers from Joville were thrown into prisons without any further formality and sentenced to wait there for the departure in which everyone had ceased to believe two girls did secede in getting home but were likewise caught and brought back these flights rendered our supervisors stricter than ever we had to answer to numberless roll calls and once when the Feldwebel was in a bad temper he called us all a set of pigs our misery was alleviated at last when the American Spanish Relief Commission began its work Joville had already received some white flour the mayor of the village interposed to obtain the same favor for the immigrants he seceded and the last week of their quarantine the poor people got bread white bread the first day we went to the baker we saw a stirring sight the children gazed and wonder at the golden loaves they squeezed, they smelt their portions with joy and without waiting broke off pieces which they ate equally I saw women look at their share with staring eyes and say weeping bread, real bread this happened the last week of our soldier in Joville indeed the long four event was about to take place there were endless reviews and verifications of names and civil conditions the men were examined and reexamined by the doctor for all would not be allowed to leave the card with the number was delivered to every person we were all ordered to meet in the yard of the sugar mill at 8 o'clock in the morning on Friday the 14th of May different sentiments prevailed a few were overjoyed at the news others show signs of despairing fragility God knows where they are going to take us now what will become of us you will see they will shut us up in Germany but most of them suspended their judgment not daring to hope they anxiously waited upon events they still grater misfortune and we had born lay in store for us Genevieve had caught a severe cold about a month before and the day we heard delivery was near she was in bed shaking with fever she spent a very bad night notwithstanding our care in the morning I ran for the German doctor as there was no other despite the patient's protest no, no, I will have no Germans about me besides there is nothing the matter that will prevent me from going the fair-haired Coxcombe gave a listless ear to my words looked at me between his eyelids and asked with his lips why did not this person come round for medical advice I replied this person was in a high fever and could not get up fortunately another doctor had come to help the former to examine the people before they were allowed to depart he was a fat red-faced jovial fellow who showed great haste to oblige me and repeated over and over again as he accompanied me ah le kere, vientore, vientore his diagnosis was alarming a double congestion of the lungs he prescribed cold water compresses and the departure oh it is quite out of the question the lady could not stand the journey it is absolutely impossible then we are not going either that is no business of mine and the doctor withdrew with a shrug of his shoulders mad with despair we went to the commandant of the camp Antoinette and I we cannot go our sister is ill why you must go you are not ill we did not know what saint to pray to we looked out for help the mayor of jovial vainly went to the commandant of Marl to plead our cause all immigrants in good health must go such was the answer Genevieve tossed about her bed and protested I want to go, I will go I will not run aground as we are reaching the port we will consult it repeat it emphatically impossible, impossible then allow us to stay too impossible, impossible at length towards the evening the whole camp with the whole village sympathized with us someone told me an officer from Marl is at the Red Cross go and try again we ran to see him I well nigh fell at his feet and besought him you are sure the lady is unable to travel he asked the doctor absolutely she cannot be moved I cannot be moved either I cried please examine me you will see there is something to matter with my heart and if I am driven to go it will be the death of me well the officer said let us see his eyes gave consent he turned to the doctor you might examine her and see if the journey would not endanger her life the doctor tossed his head and smiled an incredulous smile hum, hum it can't be denied there is something wrong with her heart in taking a pen he signed the slip which I so much desired what a relief Genevieve would not be left seriously ill among strangers and I what am I to do I must go there was nothing else to do on the way home I tried to encourage her miserable as she was it going away alone the next day I left Genevieve burning with fever in Mademoiselle Charvet's care and went to see the convoy start heart broken the sun lit up the scene everybody was in a flutter of excitement villagers had been requisitioned with carts and horses to convey the children the infirm and the luggage the crowd set out under the conduct of the soldiers amid calls and shouts many emigrants were crying where are we going to with or shall we be taken several families were severed one from the other for about 15 men had been thought too strong to leave the invaded territory they might turn soldiers in fight against the Germans the charity children delighted at the prospect flocked around me you will come later on won't you madame old ma mauselle noro and her granddaughters faltered some words of sympathy Antoinette strove hard to restrain her tears Impero did not show his joy I went with them as far as the end of the village where two gendarmes were busy counting up the herd I was not allowed to go any farther and I stood there gazing at the trampling crowd and until I saw them disappear at a winding of the road a halting place had been arranged four miles from dense where a train was waiting to convey the emigrants to her son they spent the night in the waiting rooms lying on the floor sitting on benches all squeezed together with fluttering hearts and anxious looks disturbed by the squawking of the children and the groans of the old people in the morning the poor wretches were carefully searched and then crowded into the train two days after they reached France with tears and cries of joy greeted life at length recovered after so many trials End of chapter 11 part 2