"My car is waiting. I have a British officer with me. If you do not mind a night drive, we can find his regiment."
"I am ready. Let us go."
What followed was a nightmarish journey over rough roads, with many stops to check maps, and to seek directions from Military Foot Police at crossroads. Marie sat in the back, wrapped up in a car rug against the evening chill.
"Here, petite, take a little brandy to warm you." The General passed her a small silver flask. Marie soon dozed off.
Another
Madame Johnson put down her son's letter and smiled. Ah to be young again! That John wanted to marry a French girl did not disturb her. And Edward could have no objection – he'd done the same thing. Besides, Madame was confident of her ability to convince her husband on any point where they did not agree. Still a few discreet inquiries would only be prudent. She opened the drawer and took out her French stationery. It had been many years, but she knew who was best suited for the job.
She began
Somehow, it was easier after I promised Marie that I would come back and marry her. I had decided my future, and now I had to turn my attention to the present to make sure that I was going to see that future. But first there were a few things I needed to do.
I filled out the Will page in my paybook, and left everything to Marie, making sure that there was enough information to make sure that they found her. Then I sat down and wrote a letter to my parents. It wasn't easy to do, and I used up a
Each day, hoping against hope, Marie stopped by the bureau de poste. She was used to there being no mail, as their family received little since Pierre had been killed.
"No Marie, nothing today. Sorry." The village knew all about the Canadian Sergeant who had won Marie's heart. Although they would never say so in her presence, they did not believe she would ever see him again.
Marie's father tried his best to keep her spirits up, but personally he had little hope. After his country's defeat i
After I left her village I thought often about Marie, at least for a couple of weeks. Yes, I treasured the memories of the time we had together, and of her kiss, but when you're fighting a war you don't have time to be in love. If I thought at all, it was that I would come back to Canada. I'd lost Peggy, but there were other girls. Marie was too young, I told myself, she'd find a nice French boy and marry him. Probably she'd have gotten over me already.
Every so often the mail would catch up w
The Captain called me over.
"John, you said you wanted to lead. Well, you're going to get your chance. We've lost touch with the enemy. Take a platoon-sized patrol. The Bois d'Étang is about a mile ahead of our position. We need to find out whether it's being held or not. Good luck."
"Right, Sir."
"And John, take care out there."
I called 1 platoon together. It wasn't promising. Most of the men were M.S.A. conscripts who had recently been posted to the battalion. They would have been tra
The memory of Marie crying by the side of the road as we marched away haunted me. So it was that a week went by before I realized that although patrols had been sent out every night, I hadn't been detailed to lead any of them. More than that, the Captain called me in and told me I was going off on course.
I hit the roof.
"What do you think you're doing? Sir. I'm a Sergeant. They gave me these stripes to lead, not to be somewhere else."
He looked up at me sadly. "Johnson, do you know how ma
"Sergeant?"
I looked up from my book to see several members of my platoon.
"Yes?"
"We're going to the estaminet for a drink – would you like to come along?
Now I can't say that this was a common occurrence, although I had gone along from time to time to keep an eye on the boys and keep them out of trouble.
I shrugged. "I guess I don't have anything better to do. Be right with you."
The estaminet was nothing much to look at – a medium-sized house, with tables and benches in what had
Marie's Story
I had noticed the Canadian Sergeant as he walked down the street. In our village any man was rare enough apart from the old ones like my father, but he was so good looking. So I wasn't watching where I was walking, and turned my ankle and fell. I was embarassed to be so clumsy, but when he rushed over to help – and spoke to me in French (proper French, not what the Tommies spoke) – I was glad that I had. I tried to brush off my fall, but made sure that when I put my weight on my
I guess it was about the third day after I first met Marie that I realized that I was in love with her. When I helped her that first day when she hurt her ankle, well, it was because she was pretty, and vulnerable, and I just wanted to help. Then, it was just pleasant to be with a girl again, and able to forget about the war and about the army, at least for a few hours. I didn't have any thoughts beyond the moment. I'm not superstitious, but somehow thinking about the future or making plans for
We had come out of the lines just before Arras, for a spell of rest and refit. As I was walking along the street, suddenly a pretty girl stumbled and fell ahead of me. I rushed over (she was very pretty), and in my best French (my mother was French) I asked if she were alright. She was surprised to hear a Canadian soldier speaking in French, but she answered that she had hurt her ankle a little. It was more than a little, as when she tried to put her weight on it, she practically cried out in pa
This can be considered prologue to my Marie stories.
It began before Britain declared war. My mother is French, and she followed the news that August with great interest. I was busy with my job, and not being in the Militia I had no more than a general interest.
But within a week all that had changed. We had three men in the office leave to join their regiments at Valcartier. Mr. Thomson took me aside.
"John, I can't stop you if you're planning to enlist, but we're so short handed now I'd
By January of 1919, Marie and her father were living in the new farmhouse. The discharged soldiers the General had hired had done their work well, encouraged, no doubt, both by their esteem for their former commander and by the promised bonuses for early completion. Dominique and the General were frequent visitors.
One day as Marie was preparing a flower bed in the garden, she doubled over in a fit of nausea. A touch of sun, she thought, and went to bathe her face and lie down until she felt
