【百科事典】ウィキぺディア第2096刷【Wikipedia】
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== 前スレ ==
【百科事典】ウィキぺディア第2095刷【Wikipedia】
http://lavender.5ch.net/test/read.cgi/hobby/1552722359/l50
http://lavender.5ch.net/test/read.cgi/hobby/1552725444/l50 the others, his own harsh treatment of us from the beginning, his wrong
and malicious descriptions to the woman--he winced when I mentioned her
name--his fearful abuse of the men afterwards, and I took care to point
out that I was the one who had been least hurt by his tongue, and I
wound up by declaring that, if he and the corporals had not gone away,
leaving us without any _sous-officier_ in charge, the affair would not
have taken place.
"I believe you have told me the truth," he said. And I knew well that
he knew it, for all the time that I was speaking he kept his keen eyes
fixed upon mine, and they seemed to read me through and through.
The Belgian and I were almost immediately relieved from arrest, but
my opponent received strict orders to stay in the centre of the squad
while marching, so that as little chance as possible might be given
to the curious to note his bruises. He was furthermore told that for
his own sake he had better tell anyone in authority who might chance
to make inquiries that he had been suddenly, and when off his guard,
assaulted by a drunken man at a wayside railway station. He afterwards
did tell this tale when interrogated by an officer, and, as we others
corroborated his statement, he escaped all punishment, and so did I.
All the same, the sneers and whisperings of my companions during the
remainder of the journey were at least as painful to me as his injuries
were to the Belgian. In fact, I was more than boycotted by all, and
the fact that none of my comrades would associate with me in even the slightest degree was gall and wormwood to the mind of a sensitive
youth. How I wished that the first sergeant had not been so kind and
the second so sparing of abuse to me. I was glad that in the depot for
recruits I was altogether separated from the rest, and I may add now
that, when I met some of them afterwards in the East, they seemed to
have forgotten all the little annoyances of our first acquaintance.
I wish to say but little now about the rest of the way. The chief
thing that remains in my memory is the scene aboard the transport that
carried us from Marseilles to Oran. It was so striking that I fancy I
shall never forget it.
There were troops of all arms aboard. I need not describe the party I
was with, as I have said enough about it already, and of most of the
others I can only recall that the various uniforms, the different
numbers on the caps, all impressed me with the idea that I belonged to
one of the great armies of the world. Having been, as I have already
mentioned, brought up in a garrison town I at once noticed distinctions
which another might pass over as trivial. I saw, for instance, that all
the soldiers of the line did not belong to the same regiment in spite
of the strong likeness the various corps showed to one another, and I
knew that the same held true of the chasseurs and zouaves. I admired
the way in which disorder was reduced to order; the steady composure of
those who had no work to do, which contrasted so much with the quick
movement and tireless exertion of the men told off for fatigue; the sharp eyes and short, clear orders of the sergeants; and, above all,
the calm, assured air of authority of the officer who superintended the
embarkation.
While I was noting all this my glance fell on a party of men, about
fifty in number, wearing the usual blue tunic and red trousers, who
had no mark or number in their caps. Now the Frenchmen of the line
had each the number of his regiment on the front of the kepi, and we
of the Foreign Legion had grenades on ours. Moreover, these men were
set apart from all the rest and were guarded by a dozen soldiers with
fixed bayonets. The men seemed sullen and careless of their personal
appearance, and when a Frenchman forgets his neatness you may be sure
that he has already forgotten his self-respect. Curiosity made me apply
for information to the corporal over my squad, and he told me that
these were men who for their offences in regiments stationed in France
were now being transferred to disciplinary battalions in Algeria,
where they would forfeit, practically, all a soldier's privileges and
be treated more like convicts than recruits. I at once remembered
what the sergeant whose acquaintance I had first made had said about
the zephyrs, the men that could not be reclaimed. I saw them often
afterwards, and, though in most of the battalions they are not very bad
and are treated fairly enough, in others which contain the incorrigible
ones the officers and sub-officers have to go armed with revolvers, and
the giving out of cartridges, when it can't be helped, is looked upon
as the sure forerunner of a murder. Figure to yourself what a hated warder's life would be worth if the convicts in Dartmoor had rifles and
bayonets and if the governor had occasionally to serve out packets of
cartridges, it being well understood that all--governor, warders, and
convicts--are supposed to be transferred to, let us say, Fashoda, where
there is now and then a chance of a Baggara raid.
I don't know much about the voyage across the Mediterranean as I was
almost, but not quite, sea-sick. It has always been so with me, the
gentlest sea plays havoc with my stomach. We got into Oran at about
six o'clock in the evening, and our party at once disembarked. We were
met on the quay by a sergeant of the Foreign Legion, who showed us the
way to a barrack, where we were formally handed over to his control.
That night we stayed in the barrack, and I suffered a little annoyance
from my comrades, from all of whom I was separated next day, when we
were transferred to our depot at a place called Saida. I do not know
whether this is to-day the depot for the Foreign Legion or not, as I
heard men say that an intention existed on the part of the military
authorities to place it farther south. Here I spent some time learning
drill, discipline, and all the duties of a soldier, and this was the
hardest period of my military life, for my knowledge of French had to
be considerably increased before I could quite grasp the meaning of an
order, and very often I was abused by a corporal for laziness when I
had the best will in the world to do what I was told, if I could only
understand it. CHAPTER III
When we arrived at the depot we were at once divided into small
parties, each of which was sent to a company for drill. I was attached
to No. 1 Company, and though four others of my comrades came to it with
me they did not remain there long. Two of them were Belgians, one an
Alsatian, and the fourth a Pole. All spoke French well, and it was very
soon seen that they had learned something about drill already in other
armies, and, therefore, they were sent almost at once to the battalions
on service at the edge of the great desert. Thus it was that I found
myself the only member of the detachment in No. 1, and of this I was
very glad, for my last experience with them had not been of the most
pleasant kind.
And now let me put on record the only complaint I have to make about my
life at Saida. On account of my speaking English all agreed that I must
be an Englishman, and the Englishman is well hated abroad. Consequently
on the drill ground and in the barrack room I was continually addressed
by the expressive sobriquet of "English pig." Now "cochon anglais"
is not a nice nickname, and though I dared not resent it from the
corporals and other sub-officers I made up my mind that from my equals Miraburu
@Miraburu_jawp
私は人よりも動物とか物とか記憶とか考え方とか雨とか、そういうのを「友達」って呼んでる
ツイッターやLINEで流れてきた断片的な川の流れ方についての知識が自分を助けてくれたら、「あっ、目に見えない友達が助けてくれた」って思う
午前0:09 · 2019年1月7日 in rank it was not to be endured. There was a big Alsatian in my squad
who was most persistent in insulting me, though I had often tried to
explain to him that I was neither a pig nor an Englishman. With him,
therefore, I resolved to deal, confident that, if I could put a stop
to his insolence, the rest would be quiet enough. I determined, as he
was my superior in age, strength, weight, and length of arm, that it
would be only right to take him unawares and, if possible, finish the
business before he could quite understand what I was about. For three
or four days after settling this matter in my mind I got no opportunity
such as I wished for. Seeing me take the nickname quietly, for I no
longer even remonstrated with him, the Alsatian went further than
before and raised my anger to boiling point. At last the chance came.
As I entered the room one afternoon I noticed lying near the door a
rather large billet of wood. The corporal was out, so were most of
the men, and those who remained, five or six in number, were lazily
lounging in various attitudes about the room. I put aside rifle, belt,
and bayonet, for I had just come in from a punishment parade--that is,
an extra parade ordered to men for some slight irregularity--and looked
straight at the big brute, as if to challenge him.
"Ah, my fine fellow, how do English pigs like punishment parades in
this weather?" he began.
"As well," I answered, picking up, carelessly as it were, the billet,
"as Alsatian dogs like this." And I brought the heavy block down upon 韓国は安い労働力と核が北朝鮮と統合すれば入る、
しかも復興費用を日本から取れると考えているのだ
だからこそ、相次ぐ訴訟を始め、相次ぐ日本攻撃を
世界で始めているのである。
究極の目的は何か？
日本を核攻撃し、戦勝国になるという夢を実現することだ。
それが、韓国の歴史観の行き着く先だ >>153
そう。そうするしかないのだ。
それが、日本民族が生き残る
唯一無二の道なのだ
その方法に
最早躊躇も遠慮もいらない
やるべきことを、いますぐやるべきなのだ このスレチ英文は自動プログラムを使って15分間隔で投稿してるな 韓国人の究極の目的は
日本人の抹殺である
その具体的な方法として
核攻撃があるのだ
日本には、米軍基地がある？
そんなものは韓国にもある his head with all my strength. The cap, though utterly destroyed,
saved his head, but still he was so stupefied by the sudden assault
and by the force of the blow that I had time to strike him again and
again. The others jumped up quickly and seized me, crying out that the
Alsatian was dead. And, indeed, he looked as if he were dead, for his
head was covered with blood, and one almost imagined that his brains
would protrude through the wounds. However, after some time he came to
himself again, and truly no one was better pleased than I, for as I
cooled down I began to be fearful of consequences.
When the corporal heard about the affair he told the sergeant, the
sergeant went to the captain, and the captain came down to investigate
the matter for himself. I told him how I was continually annoyed, and
when he asked me why I struck the other when off his guard, I pointed
out that to do so gave me the only chance of revenge. He measured us
both with his eyes and seemed to agree with me. Anyway, the Alsatian
was sent to get his wounds dressed and I was ordered extra drills,
extra fatigues, and to remain altogether in barracks for a fortnight.
Now I wondered how I got off so lightly. Well, in the Foreign Legion a
fight between men of the same squad is not considered half so serious
as one between men belonging to different squads, just as no one minds
so much about a fight between brothers as about one between members
of separate families. If a soldier of No. 1 squad beats a soldier of
No. 2 all the men of No. 2 will look for revenge, and all the men of >>157
やまとの諸君
もはや躊躇の必要はない
するべきことを、韓国朝鮮人に行うべき時が来た
諸君に誰かを傷つけろと言ってるのではない
身近な朝鮮人、隣にいる韓国人
こいつらが生きにくい世の中に
各自が考えて追い込むこと
そして、世界の韓国人を
生きにくくすること、それが日本人の
今すぐやるべきことだ >>163
と当人達がそう思うなら死ねばいいと思うよ No. 1 will know that, and, therefore, at any moment thirty or more men
may be, to use an expressive phrase, "into" one another with Nature's
weapons and anything lying handy that will do a man damage. Sometimes
when the quarrel is more serious than usual--as, for instance, when it
is about women--bayonets may be used, but, indeed, the soldier very
seldom has recourse to his accustomed weapons in a fight with comrades.
But if a dispute arises between a battalion of zephyrs and another of
the Foreign Legion there is but one way of restoring order--call out
the cavalry and the guns.
As the Alsatian and I belonged to the same squad the captain contented
himself with punishing me slightly and warning us both against a
renewal of the quarrel. The story went around, and I don't believe I
was called an English pig ever afterwards except by an Irishman or an
Irish-American, who, of course, spoke only in jest.
Our company consisted of from 160 to 200 men. Sometimes it was strong
for a week after the arrival of a number of recruits, then again it
would go down as a squad or two departed for the regiment. My squad
varied, I think, from ten to seventeen, and, taking us all round, we
weren't very bad, as soldiers go. What language did we speak? French on
the drill ground and on duty and in reply to superior officers; amongst
ourselves a Lingua Franca, made up chiefly of French, especially the
Argot, but with a plentiful admixture of German, Spanish, Italian,
Portuguese, and other languages, including in some squads even Russian, Turkish, and Arabic. What I say now refers not merely to the depot
but to the Foreign Legion in general: every battalion, every company,
I might almost say every squad, had its own peculiarity of idiom;
Sapristi and Parbleu gave place often to Caramba, Diavolo, and Mein
Gott. In fact, before I was six months in the Legion I could swear
fluently in every European language except English; the only English
curse they taught me was Goddam.
The _sous-officiers_ were pretty strict with us in the depot, but the
punishments were not too severe. The favourite one was to keep you
altogether in the barrack and compel you to sleep during the night in
your ordinary uniform on a plank bed in the guard room. That was the
worst of it, in the day no one minded the confinement to barracks--for
what was the use in wandering about a dirty town if one had no money in
his pocket, and our pay did not last long?--but in the night the plank
bed was not an ideal resting-place. I did not get into much trouble,
the row with the Alsatian was my chief offence, and what kept me right
was the dread of sleeping in the guard room at night.
We drilled every day except Sunday, but there is no use in telling
about that, as drill is the same all the world over. Our drill
instructors were certainly eloquent--all had copious vocabularies--and
the wealth of abuse and cursing that any of them could expend in an
hour's work was, indeed, extraordinary. While I was unable to fully
understand I felt angry; by the time I understood every word I was too >>164
前後の流れにもよるけど、友達が降ってきたとかいわれると
普通の職業にはつけないだろうな philosophical to care. Moreover, I am sorry to have to say that I was
rapidly acquiring a fairly extensive vocabulary of my own, and every
time I heard a curse directed at myself I thought one for the benefit
of the drill instructor's soul. It's a tradition in every army just
as it is in every navy, fighting and mercantile, that nothing can be
got out of men without bad language, and I do believe that there is a
good deal of truth in the tradition. One would fancy that skippers and
sergeants wish to familiarise their men with the names at least of the
lower regions and their ruler, in the firm belief that the men will
at some time make the acquaintance of both. That's as it may be; at
anyrate we learned a good deal more than our drill from our instructors.
We had a remarkably fine band. It was chiefly composed of Germans,
I think, and it does seem strange that ten years after the
Franco-Prussian war the majority of a French regimental band should
be composed of the sons of the men who crushed Napoleon the Third at
Sedan. The band played very often in the square, and every evening that
it turned out I felt no desire to leave the barrack. I don't understand
music but I like it. In the square the women and children of the depot
used to walk about listening, talking and laughing; the officers' wives
at one side and the wives of the _sous-officiers_ at another. As for
us, we lounged about at a short distance and made remarks, not always
in the best taste, about the women of both classes. A good deal of
quiet, oh, very quiet, flirtation used to go on, and this gave rise
amongst us to rather broad jests and hints. Of course, many people from the town came in also, and these we considered fair game as well. One
very fat man, accompanied by a tall, extremely thin woman, evidently
his wife--they seemed to have no children--came regularly at least
three times a week to listen to the music. If he and his lady knew all
the fun they provided for us and the jokes uttered at their expense, I
fancy that the square would never see them again. What they did not
know did not trouble them, and so they came as long as I remained in
the depot and I daresay for long enough after I left it.
A very important consideration with a soldier, as with any other man,
is his food. I think we got nearly enough--that is, the fellows who
were used to it got enough--but the poor devils who were not used to
slops and bread were badly off, especially those who, like myself, had
schoolboy appetites. I have seen--this was in the battalion--veterans
leaving part of their rations untouched and young soldiers, men under
twenty-five, hungry the whole day long. Early in my soldiering I
learned the blessed consolation of tobacco. Often when I was more
hungry after a meal than before it, the soup and bread rather exciting
my stomach than satisfying it, I have smoked till no sensation of
emptiness remained. I don't know what a soldier in a Continental army
would do without tobacco. Nearly all our scanty pay went to buy it,
and, wretched stuff as it was, I have never enjoyed the best Havana as
I used to enjoy the delicious smoke when all work and drill for the
day were over and the pipe of comfort and blessed forgetfulness made
paradise of a barrack room. We were good enough to one another. If the Spaniard had no tobacco he
could generally get some, unless it were too scarce indeed, and then
he had to be satisfied with half-a-dozen puffs from every pipe in the
room. I say the Spaniard advisedly, for he was always without money;
he had such an unfortunate trick of getting into trouble and losing
his pay. At the same time I too have had to do with the whiffs when
I longed for a pipeful of my own, and when you wanted to feel the
taste of the weed in your mouth it was very good to get even them.
When tobacco was very scarce with all we had more than one device for
getting a smoke; but there, these are only silly things, not that they
seemed silly to us at the time.
While at our drill we were the most obedient fellows in the world, so
were we too when doing the ordinary work of the soldier. But when the
day's labour was done we were not to be ordered about at the will of
any sergeant or corporal. Well they knew it too. Why, when a squad in
No. 2 Company was bullied--out of hours, be it well understood--by
their corporal a strange thing occurred. The corporal was found one
afternoon--at least the corporal's body was found--in one of the
latrines, and it was quite evident to the doctors that he had been
suffocated. Suspicion fell at once upon the squad he commanded, but,
and this was the strange thing, every one of them could prove that it
was impossible for him to have hand, act or part, in the business,
for some were on guard, and others were at drill, and others--rather peculiar, wasn't it?--had been directly under the eyes of the
sergeant-major of the company. There was a sentry near the latrine,
who, of course, had not left his post, and this man could tell within
five minutes the time the corporal entered. He saw no others enter
at or about the same time, but that was easily explained: a large
hole had been broken through the back of one of the compartments, and
half-a-dozen men could easily get through this in as many seconds,
and, once in without being observed, the rest was easy. Nobody was
ever even court-martialled for the murder, and, though many might be
able to guess the names of the murderers, he would be a fool who did
his guessing within earshot of even a corporal. One thing is certain,
we had a fairly quiet time afterwards while I was in the depot, not
that we weren't sworn at and abused just as much on parade--oh yes,
we were--but when the quiet time came the _sous-officiers_ had sense
enough to leave us to ourselves. Well, it's all over now. The man who
carried the business through died in Tonquin--he was a Russian--and he
will turn up again in this narrative as ringleader of one of the most
exciting incidents of my life.
I did not form any friendships in the depot. True, there were fellows
in the squad whom I liked better than others, but I never showed
preference even for them. One thing chiefly prevented me from making
friends: I was beginning to learn something about the world and
its ways, or perhaps I should say about human nature, for with us
conventionality was dropped when the belt came off for the last time in the evening and we spoke very freely to one another. If you liked
something in a comrade's words or acts you told him so; if you disliked
anything you were equally outspoken. Did a thought enter your mind
worthy of being communicated, in your opinion, to the rest it made no
difference whether it were immoral, or blasphemous, or against the
law, or contrary to discipline, out it came, and generally with a
garnishment of oaths and obscene expressions. We very seldom spoke of
what is good, except to laugh at and revile it. When we saw a woman
evidently very fond of her husband we said: "Ah, she is throwing dust
in his eyes; she has more than one lover." If we noticed a husband very
devoted to his wife, why, it was certain that the devotion was only an
excuse for watchfulness. Everything good was looked on with suspicion;
everything bad was natural, right, and obviously true.
We were always looking forward to the future. When in the depot we
yearned to be with the regiment; afterwards, when with the regiment in
the south of Algeria, I found my comrades and myself thinking eagerly
of the chances of going to the East. Life in Tonquin could not be so
monotonous; there was always fighting going on, and in any case you
got the chance of looting on the sly after a battle or even a petty
skirmish. This looking forward is, however, common to most men, but we
had a special reason for it, inasmuch as we were never comfortable or
content, our lives being made up for the most part of work and drill
and punishment, with an occasional fight, which wonderfully enlivened
the time for those who had not to pay for it. When we had learned our drill pretty well the officers began to take
more interest in us. Don't imagine that they were kind and nice to us,
that they complimented us on our smartness and intelligence, or that
they even dreamt of standing us a drink in the canteen. Oh no; they
were somewhat worse than the sergeants, and if their language was not
so coarse it was equally cutting and abusive. By this time, however, we
were case-hardened, and, besides, we knew that at last we were leaving
the depot for ever, and the excitement induced by the expected change
was in itself a source of joy. We who were about to go went around
smiling and in good humour with ourselves and all the world. The men
who knew that their stay would last for some time longer consoled
themselves with the thought that at last it too must come to an end.
Simple philosophy, wasn't it? but wonderfully comforting.
We speculated about the battalions, about the stations, about the
Arabs, about the Moors, about the war in Tonquin, about everything
that we could think of as possibly affecting our after-life. I, mere
schoolboy that I was, was one of the most excited, and indulged in the
most extravagant fancies and dreamt the most extraordinary dreams.
At last the glorious day came. We were aroused at three o'clock in the
morning, had finished breakfast, and were on the parade-ground at a
little after four in full marching order. There we were addressed in a
farewell speech by the commandant, who called us "my children," as if he cared especially for each and all of us. I had almost to smile, but
a smile at such a time would surely entail punishment.
The band played us out of the gate, and off we marched, about 200
strong, all in good health and spirits, for the little station where
lay the battalion for which we were designed.
CHAPTER IV
We went altogether by march route to our destination. Every day was
like the preceding one, and a short description of any day will do for
all. Reveille at four o'clock, then while some pulled down and folded
up the tents others cooked the morning coffee, at five or a little
after we were _en route_, at eight usually, but sometimes later, a
halt was called for the morning soup; that over, we put our best foot
foremost until about eleven or half-past. Now came the pleasantest and
sleepiest part of the twenty-four hours. We ate a little, we smoked a
little, we slept, or rather dozed, a little, until the bugles warned us
at half-past three that another stretch of dry, dusty, throat-provoking
road had to be accounted for. On again at four until six or seven or
eight, with occasional rests of ten minutes each, and then there was nothing but cleaning up after the evening soup. When all was right and
the sentries had been posted for the night you might talk and smoke if
you liked, but as a rule you smoked first and fell asleep afterwards.
It was not strange that we, who had been cooped up in the depot so
long, enjoyed this march. It seemed to us that we were soldiers at
last, not mere recruits, and dust and thirst and other inconveniences
were matters to be put up with and laughed at. On the road we often
sang; at the end of the midday halt, while we helped one another
with knapsack and belts, you might often hear songs of every country
from the Urals to the Atlantic. Every man's spirits were high; the
long-expected change had worked wonders, and the officers, nay, even
the sergeants and the corporals, had little of abuse or swearing
for us. True, our _sous-officiers_ were not drill instructors; of
all things in the world teaching is the most wearing on the temper,
and perhaps that is why there was so great a difference between the
sergeants in the depot and the sergeants on the march.
I think we did on an average about three miles an hour. It was good
enough too, for there were the rifle and the knapsack to be carried,
and the greatcoat and the blanket and the ammunition, and all the other
impedimenta of the soldier. The straps of the knapsack galled me a bit,
and I soon found out the difference between a march out from barracks
for a few hours and a day-after-day tramp through the heat and the dust
with the knowledge that you carried your bed and most of your board upon your person. The rest at the end of the hour, for we always halted
for ten minutes after a fifty minutes' march, was a great help; and,
again, I was a little too proud, or too vain if you like to call it
so, to fall out of the ranks while my comrades were steadily marching
on. After all, pride or vanity, call it what you will, never hurts
a youngster, though it should make him slightly overwork himself in
trying to keep up with those who are his seniors in age and his betters
in endurance. All the same, when the day's march was over, it was
delightful to pull off knapsack, boots and all, and to feel that there
were before you eight or nine hours of complete freedom from toil.
One night, however, things were not quite so well with me. It was my
turn for guard, and when we halted for the night I with others was
turned out of the ranks at once. The first sentries were soon posted,
and the remainder of us had a couple of hours in or near the guard
tent to enjoy our evening meal. When that was over we all had a smoke,
and at nine--we had halted at seven--the reliefs were wanted. I felt
very lazy as I got up, took my rifle, and set out with the corporal
of the guard to my post. There I remained until eleven, was relieved
until one, and went again on sentinel duty until three. At four the
usual routine began, and I remember that, after the wakeful night, the
day's march seemed very long. When we halted at midday I fell asleep,
and when the march was over I forgot to smoke, and, curling myself
up in my greatcoat and blanket, became utterly oblivious of all that
occurred until the reveille next morning awakened me to another day. I don't remember much of the country through which we passed. Most of
the time my ears were more engaged than my eyes, for many a good story
was told and many a happy jest passed as we tramped along in the dust
and sun. Some fellows told us stories of life in their own countries,
and if they did not adhere exactly to the truth, why, that only made
the stories better. Others could not see a man or a woman--especially
a woman--on either flank but straightway they criticised and joked,
and very clever we used to fancy the criticisms and jokes were. Some
again were good singers, and these were constantly shouted at to sing,
especially the men who sang comic songs. I daresay some of these songs,
if not all, were scarcely fit for a drawing-room, but as no ladies were
present it did not seem to make much difference. Then we had a bugle
march occasionally--say half-a-dozen times a day--and I for one found
the bugles wonderfully inspiriting. While the bugles were playing none
of us seemed to feel the road beneath our feet; we stopped talking, we
almost gave up smoking, the step became more regular, and the ranks
closed up. I suppose a musician would call a bugle march monotonous;
well, it may be so, but how many men out of 200 are musicians? But we
had more music than that. Some of the fellows had brought along musical
instruments of small size--tin whistles, flageolets, and such things.
Very well they played too. Many were fairly good whistlers, and so
there was a variety of means to drive away dull care; indeed, I think
we were the jolliest and most careless set in the world. Even when
the sun had been very hot and the road more than usually dusty we had
always the thought that the end of the annoyance would come when we reached our battalion and that every day brought us nearer to the men
who were to take the place of home and country, friends and relations,
for five years. We fancied that they would be just like ourselves, and
we liked one another too well not to be satisfied.
It was while on this march that I first saw how soldiers are punished
when there is no prison near or when it is deemed best to give a short,
sharp punishment to an offender. Of course, I refer to cases where the
offence does not merit a court-martial. We had halted for the evening
near a small village, and some fellows had gone to it, more, I suppose,
out of curiosity than because they had any business there. I was not
with them, and I never fully learned what occurred but I know there
was a woman in the case. Whether she deserted the corporal for the
private soldier, or refused to leave the private when his superior
made advances to her I cannot tell, but some words passed between the
men, and the corporal made a report to the sergeant, who passed it on
to the captain. Very few questions were asked; the man was taken to a
spot near the guard tent, where he would be directly under the eyes
of a sentry, and there he was put, as we termed it, _en crapaudine_.
This is how it was done. First his hands were pinioned behind his back,
then his ankles were shackled tightly to each other, afterwards the
fastenings of his wrists were bound closely to the ankle bonds, so that
he was compelled to remain in a kneeling posture with his head and
body drawn back. After some time pains began to be felt in the arms,
across the abdomen, and at the knees and ankles. These pains increased rapidly, and at last became intolerable. Yet he dared not cry out, or
at least no one would cry out until he could not help it, for the
sleeping men ought not to be disturbed, and at the first cry a gag was
placed between the teeth. This poor devil did not get much punishment.
I think he was _en crapaudine_ for only an hour or so, but, take my
word for it, if you place a man in that position for four, five, or
six hours, he will be in no hurry to get himself into trouble again.
There are other punishments too--the silo, for instance--but I shall
not describe these now, as I shall have occasion further on to tell all
about them when I am dealing with life in the regiment.
We did not always lie under canvas on the march. Sometimes we halted
at a garrison town or at cantonments, and then some, if not all, of us
were placed in huts for the night. We saw all kinds of soldiers there.
We met zouaves, chasseurs, turcos, spahis, zephyrs, but with none had
we much intercourse. This was due to several reasons. We came in hot
and tired and with little desire for anything except food and rest, and
besides we had to clean up clothes, boots, and arms for the parade and
inspection in the early morning. Then the regular French troops, and
even, I must admit, the native Algerian soldiers, looked with contempt
upon us, and you may be sure that we of the Legion returned the
contempt and the contemptuous words with interest. They never went very
far in showing their feelings towards our fellows, for we had an ugly
reputation; more than once a company or two of Legionaries had made a
desperate attack on a battalion even, and it was well known through >ラジオのAM放送廃止を要請へ FM一本化、民放連
カーラジオも終わりだな Algeria that when the Legionaries began a fight there would be, as was
often said, "blood upon shirts" before the fight was over. Therefore
the others stood rather in awe of our men, and they did not quite like
the idea of having anything to do with us, even though we were only
recruits on the way to the battalion, for every soldier knows that the
recruit is even more anxious to follow the regimental tradition than
the veteran. The latter feels that he is part and parcel of the corps
and that his reputation is not likely to suffer; the former is only
too eager to show that he accepts, wholly and unreservedly, the ideas
handed down to him, and, besides, he has not been altogether brought
under discipline. Thus, though we saw men in many uniforms we got to
know very little about them--indeed, all our information came from the
corporals--and I may add here that the corporals impressed upon us that
we were never to fight individually with Frenchmen or natives, but
that, if a general quarrel took place, we were to remember our duty to
the Legion and make it "warm weather" for our opponents. Afterwards on
more than one occasion we followed that advice.
Once or twice a little unpleasantness arose amongst ourselves. It
never went very far; the others, who were not desirous of seeing their
comrades get into trouble, always put an end to the business before
any real harm was done. I had nothing to do with any of these disputes
save once, when, in the _rﾃｴle_ of peacemaker, I sat with another fellow
for more than half-an-hour on an Italian who was thirsting for the
blood of a Portuguese. The Portuguese was receiving similar attentions from two others at the opposite side of the tent. It was funny how
the thing came about. The Italian had got, somewhere or somehow--I
suppose he stole it--a bottle of brandy, and, instead of sharing all
round, gave half to his comrade the Portuguese and drank the other
half himself. When they returned to the tent they were quarrelling,
and evidently drunk. After some time they began to fight, and we left
them alone, as they had been so mean about the liquor, until we saw the
Italian reaching for his bayonet. Then the rest of us joined in, and
the precious pair of rascals, who had forgotten their comrades when
they were happy, got something which made them rise in the morning with
more aches in the body than they had in the head. They apologised the
next day and we forgave them. This was another lesson to me. I saw that
when a man got anything outside his ordinary share of good things he
was supposed to go share and share alike with the rest of his squad.
Many a time afterwards I have seen men who had at one time been of good
position at home, and whose relatives could and would send them money,
openly show the amount received in tent or hut or barrack room, and we
others went out to spend that money when the evening came with just
as much belief in our right to do so as if the money had been sent to
the squad and not to the man. Well, the rich ones did not lose in the
end, for they got many a favour from their comrades which the average
soldier would be a fool to expect.
The corporal of my squad on the march south was a rather good fellow. I
am not quite sure whether he was a German or an Austrian by birth. He had seen a good deal of Algerian life, and was determined as soon as
his term was up to get clear away for ever from Africa. This was not
pleasant news. Here was a corporal, a man of over four years' service,
whose whole and sole idea it was to leave the Legion and the country.
It plainly proved that the life before us was not the most attractive
in the world, and the thought often crossed my mind that perhaps I had
been a fool to try soldiering in such a corps. With the happy-go-lucky
recklessness of youth, however, I quickly got rid of these fancies, and
I could console myself that five years would not be long passing, and
at the very worst I should have learned more, situated as I was, than
if I were to spend the term at school, and at such a school as the one
I had been attending.
I got on fairly well with the others of my squad. I have never been
inclined to affront people, and I can honestly say that I have never
shirked my work, and these qualities, added to a natural cheerfulness
of disposition which caused me to look at the bright side of things,
helped me very much all through my stay in the Foreign Legion. Indeed,
there was only one man who was disliked by all. He was a Pole, a
German Pole, I believe, and he had the most sarcastic tongue of all
the men I've ever met. His sneering smile was almost as bad as his
cutting tongue. While speaking politely he said little things that
one could not very well resent, and that, therefore, hurt one the
more. It's bad to be an idler, and worse to have a nasty way of openly
abusing and insulting people, but the worst gift of God to a man is the gift of sarcasm. The sarcastic man never has a friend. There are, of
course, always men who will fawn upon and flatter him, but that will be
only through fear of his tongue--even they who most court him rejoice
inwardly at his misfortunes. He can't be always lucky, he must take his
bad fortune as it comes, and when it does come he cannot help knowing
that all who know him are glad.
It was well, I think, for our friend the Pole that the journey did not
last a week longer. Somebody or other would be sure to lose his temper,
and if one blow were struck, twenty would surely follow, for we all
hated him. He said something about a gorilla one day, looking hard all
the while at the Italian already mentioned, and it was a wonder that
there was no fight. There would have been, I feel sure, but that the
bugles sounded the assemble for the last march of the day, and the
Italian, who was no beauty, had a few hours of marching to get cool.
The Pole was quiet enough for the next couple of days, and by that time
we were within six hours' march of our destination.
Before describing the battalion to which I now belonged I must say a
few words about the Foreign Legion in general, so that the peculiar
characteristics of the corps may be understood. All that I shall
mention in this chapter is that one sunny afternoon about four o'clock
we marched into camp on the borders of the Sahara amid the cheers of
our future comrades, and that within an hour our 200 men were divided
amongst the four companies that constituted the 2nd Battalion of the First Regiment of the _Lﾃｩgion ﾃｩtrangﾃｨre_.
CHAPTER V
For centuries the armies of France have had a certain proportion of
foreign troops. Readers of Scott will remember the Scottish archers,
and there is a regiment in the British army to-day which was at one
time a Scottish corps in the service of the Most Christian Kings of
France. Almost everyone has heard of the Irish Brigade, a force whose
records fill many a bloody and glorious page of European history
and whose prowess more than once turned the ebb-tide of defeat into
the full flood of victory. It has been computed that almost 500,000
Irishmen died in the French service; and we may well imagine that
half-a-million dashing soldiers did not yield up their lives for
nothing.
In the time of the great Napoleon there were many foreign brigades
in the grand army. Everybody has read of the famous Polish lancers
who time and again shattered the chivalry of Prussia, Austria, and
Muscovy in those combats of giants, when kingdoms were the prizes and
marshalships and duchies mere consolations for the less lucky ones. 僕の肛門にも時々オチンコが降ってきます。
おホモだちと呼んでいます。 These Poles were magnificent fools. Poniatowski and his riders clung
to Napoleon, led the way in his advances, covered the rear in his
retreats, and all the while the cynical emperor had little, if any,
thought of restoring the ancient glories of Poland, and thus repaying
the country for the valour and devotion of her sons. Other foreign
cavalry he had as well, but they became more or less mixed with the
native Frenchmen, and thus do not stand out so boldly to our mental
vision as the Poles. Chief amongst the great emperor's foreign infantry
brigades was the Irish one. Indeed, to this one alone of them an eagle
was entrusted, and it may do no harm to remark here that that eagle,
much as it was coveted by certain enemies, was never lost, and was
handed back to French custody when the Irish Brigade ceased to exist
as an independent body after the final defeat at Waterloo. Most of
the brigade, not caring for the monarchy after having so long and so
faithfully served the empire, took advantage of the offer made to them
of taking service under the British monarch, and were incorporated in
various regiments of the British army. Indeed, in the late twenties and
early thirties of the nineteenth century it was by no means uncommon to
meet in Irish villages a war-worn veteran who had been in most of the
great European battles--Jena, Austerlitz, Borodino, Waterloo--and had
finished his soldiering under the burning suns of Hindostan.
In the Crimea, again, a foreign legion, somewhat like the legion formed
by the British Government for the same campaign, was amongst the troops
sent out by Napoleon the Third. I know very little about this corps, 自分にとって都合のいい存在を友達に認定してるだけじゃねーか
きもちわる but I am quite sure that it got its full share, and more, of danger,
hard work, and privations. Anyway the Crimean campaign, except for a
few battles, was more a contest against nature than against the enemy.
In the Franco-Prussian war we next find mention of the Legionaries. At
the battle of Orleans, when that city was captured by the Prussians,
the Foreign Legion and the Pontifical Zouaves covered the French
retreat. When we learn that out of 1500 of the former only 36 remained
at the end of the day there will be little need to ask where were the
Legionaries during the rest of the war. It must be remembered also,
that the 1500 men who fought and fell outside Orleans were the remains
of the Legionaries brought from Algeria, and that their comrades left
behind were amongst the most distinguished of those who quelled the
rebellion of the Kabyles in the year '71. It is only just to mention
that the Pontifical Zouaves covered themselves with glory at this
fight; they went into action along with the Legion on the 11th of
October 1870, 370 strong, of whom only 17 survived the day.
The Foreign Legion, as I knew it, consisted, as I believe it still
consists, of two regiments, each containing four battalions. As a
battalion numbers 1000 men the total strength of the service soldiers
may be put at 8000. In addition there are depot men, including band,
drill instructors, and recruits; but I have said enough about the
depot already, so I shall now confine myself altogether to the service
soldiers. Every battalion is divided into four companies, and thus a company
contains, approximately, 250 officers, sub-officers, and soldiers.
The officers are three--captain, lieutenant, and sub-lieutenant. Next
comes the sergeant-major of the company, a sub-officer who keeps the
accounts. There are two sergeants, one for each of the two sections
into which the company is divided, and under them a number of corporals
in command of squads, every squad being, be it understood, a distinct
unit in the economy of the section to which it belongs. The men are
divided into two classes, the first and the second, and from the first
class are chosen the corporals as vacancies arise.
The uniform consists of kepi with a brass grenade in front, blue tunic
with black belt, red trousers, or white, according to the season. With
the red trousers go black gaiters, with the white ones white spats,
somewhat like those worn by Highland soldiers in the British army. The
knapsack, greatcoat, and other impedimenta are rather heavy, especially
when 150 rounds of ball cartridge are included. I don't know the exact
weight, but I remember that I used to feel an ugly drag on my shoulders
at the end of a day's march. The pouch for ammunition at the side also
pressed heavily against the body, and we often wished that those who
had the arrangement of a man's equipment should wear it on the march,
day in day out, if only for a month. There might be some common-sense
displayed by them after that. But in all ages and nations a man's
accoutrements--I use the word in the most general sense--have been decided on by tailors and good-for-nothing generals--oh, there are
plenty of them in every army in the world--and, worst of all, by women,
who twist and turn the said generals around their little fingers. Look
at a private soldier of any army when standing at attention in full
marching order; you are pleased with the sight; his head is erect, his
straightened shoulders seem easily to support the heavy pack behind;
the twin pouches look so beautifully symmetrical. Ask that soldier how
he feels at the end of a thirty-mile march. If he isn't a liar, he will
tell you that the rifle is rather heavy, but he doesn't mind that; that
the pack galls a bit, but that's to be expected; and that the pouches
weighted with ammunition have given him a dull, heavy pain in each
side just above, he imagines, where the kidneys are, and if that pain
could be avoided he would think little of all the rest. Many a time I
have taken the packets of cartridges from the pouches before we had
gone a quarter of a mile and stowed them away between the buttons of my
tunic--there they had ribs and breast bone to rest against. Why don't
the people whose business and interest it is to get the best out of
the private soldier give the private soldier a chance? But they won't.
Of all the humbugs on the face of God's earth the military officer of,
say, twenty years' service is the worst.
The soldier of the second class wore no decoration on his sleeve, the
soldier of the first class had a red chevron, the corporal wore two
red chevrons, the sergeant a single gold one, and the sergeant-major
two gold ones. It was a good thing to be a soldier of the first class, not because you wore a chevron or got extra pay, but because, when a
charge was made against you by sergeant or corporal, the officers
would listen carefully to your defence, and you generally got what the
second-class man rarely got--a fair chance as well as a patient hearing.
Squad etiquette was rather peculiar. You were assigned to a squad, and
on entering were made free, as I may say, of the mess, and how you got
on afterwards with your enforced comrades depended largely on yourself.
You might be very well liked, or thoroughly disliked, but violent likes
and dislikes were rather uncommon. As a rule, you had just a little
trouble in asserting your right to a fair share, and that always, of
what was going. If you had a dispute with another your comrades looked
on and listened; if you came to blows they prevented the affair from
going too far; and unless the corporal was a brute he allowed his squad
to arrange their own affairs out of working hours in their own way.
But you dared not form friendships with men outside the squad; if you
did you were set upon and punished in every way by your comrades, and
your friend was served in the same way by his. Let me give an instance.
A rather nice, quiet fellow, an Alsatian, was in my squad at a place
called Zenina when we received a new draft of recruits from the depot.
Amongst these was another Alsatian, who came from the same place as
my comrade, and, as was natural, the two became fast friends. Under
the circumstances nothing was said at first, and had either asked for
a transfer to his friend's squad all would have been well. After some
time, however, the comrades of both began to object. Why, we asked one 556 名無しの愉しみ[sage] 2019/03/21(木) 15:53:44.89 ID:???
ぱたごん「えっ、堕落と同期？」
諏訪兄「やだ、自警臭いわ」
さかおり「2009年生の恥さらしよ」 another, should Schmidt openly abandon us and our genial company for a
man who should by right be good comrade with others? Well, Schmidt was
abused, and bore the abuse calmly; he got only half a share at meals,
and still did not go further than a meek protest; he came back after
seeing his chum, and found all his kit flung outside the door of the
hut, his rifle fouled, his bayonet covered with salt water, his straps
dirty, and his buckles dull; still he bore with all. Next evening
he went to visit his friend, and, while he was absent, we formed a
soldiers' court-martial and tried him. One man represented the accuser,
another took the part of Schmidt, but the result was quite evident from
the first. He was found guilty of neglecting his duties as a comrade,
and as he had openly abandoned his squad and thereby shown his contempt
for it, at the same time exposing us to the derision of all the
battalion, it was high time that the squad should adequately punish him
and thus vindicate its character.
The chief difficulty was about the punishment. It was first proposed
that we should put him _en crapaudine_ for a night, seizing and binding
him while all in the cantonments were asleep, and releasing him in
the morning before the reveille. However, it was pointed out that the
corporal would not be likely to permit that, and, if he did permit it,
Schmidt might report the matter and get the corporal into trouble. Now
the corporal was a good fellow. He swore at us and abused us and would
allow not even a sullen muttering in reply, but he would not, if he
could help it, of course, get a man into trouble with the sergeant or the captain or the commandant. Occasionally he would find a bottle of
wine, half-a-bottle of brandy, or a score or two of cigarettes in his
corner. He said nothing, and as soon as the bottle was empty he did not
have anything more to do with it: it was removed without a word by some
one of us and quietly, I may say unostentatiously, deposited where its
presence need not be accounted for by any of our squad.
After a good deal of talking we finally settled on a plan. What it
was will appear in a short time. That night we could not do as we had
resolved, for the corporal came in at an early hour in the evening
as drunk and as abusive as a man could be. He rolled against me, and
cursed me for a dirty, drunken pig, who could not carry his liquor like
a soldier. He stood tottering in his corner of the room, and gave out
more bad language than he had ever done before. And we were not quiet.
He got quite as much as he gave; we described for his benefit our
conceptions of his father and his mother--his father was a dog and his
mother the female of the same species--we attributed to himself all the
bad qualities that we could think of; we even called him coward, and
dared him to report us at once to the sergeant or the captain. He knew,
and we knew, that if he did so his arrest would at once follow and that
the chevrons on his arm would not be worth one of the brass buttons on
his tunic. We overpowered him with abuse at length, and he fell asleep
muttering curses and threats, which were altogether forgotten in the
morning. Next evening the chance came. The corporal had taken a hint that it
would be just as well for him for his own sake to have some appointment
that would keep him away until the last moment before roll call. I may
admit that when he woke in the morning he looked, and I suppose felt,
very ill, and even refused his morning coffee when it was first offered
to him. I took the coffee then from the man who had offered it, and,
while all the rest, as it had been arranged, turned their backs, poured
into it nearly a quarter of a pint of brandy. He saw what I was doing
and took the mixture from me. Smelling it carefully first, he swallowed
a little; liking the taste, he swallowed some more; and in less than
two minutes he handed back the empty vessel to me, with a wink and
a nod of the head that told me how delightful had been the little
surprise prepared for him.
As he was going out another man held out his hand with a couple
of cigarettes. "Thanks, my comrade, how you are kind!" said the
_sous-officier_.
When he came in for soup, I again poured some brandy from the bottle
into a tin cup in such a way that the corporal saw but the rest did
not, being discreetly engaged. He did not wait to have it carried
to him, he came swiftly round, took the cup, and drained it at a
gulp. Then somebody left six or eight cigarettes near the corporal's
bedplace, and all walked out except the corporal and myself. I went
to the door, looked out, came back to my own bunk, took out a bottle >>195
Kurihayaの苛立ちはわかるが
桜ポップなんかを相手にする時間があるんなら
荒らしや靴下のブロックをもっとテキパキとやってほしい >>190
都合の良いか悪いかの俯瞰論なんて誰も話してないんだけど
というかウィキペディアとは無関係のツイート晒しに便乗して噛み付いてくる貴方の方がよっぽど気持ち悪い of wine nearly three-quarters full and the tin cup, walked over to
the corporal, filled the cup to the brim, and dutifully offered it
to my superior officer. He drank, and returned the empty cup to me.
Filling it for myself, I finished the contents, and then asked him
for a cigarette--just one. The corporal gave it me, and I began the
conversation.
"Bad for us others if you lost the chevrons, corporal."
"Why? Why? what did I say last night?"
"Oh, nothing to speak about; but, corporal----" Then I stopped and
looked straight at him.
"Well, my comrade, what do you wish to say?"
Now he was afraid; he began to fear something hidden by the kindness.
"But, my corporal, could you not make an appointment now, so that after
the evening soup you would be engaged until roll call--away from this
place and in good company?"
"Oh yes, yes; that is easy."
"And your comrade might like to smoke and drink a little; if so, my >結局のところ「山田の立場」しか根拠なくないですか？WP:CRITERIAには「山田の立場を重視する」みたいな規定は無いです。
おい例祭どうしちゃったの落ち着いて corporal, after the evening soup, when we others leave the room, look
behind your knapsack."
"Good comrade; but will anything happen?"
"Yes; a man will go to hospital for a week."
"To hospital?"
"Yes."
"Only to hospital?"
"My honour; only to hospital."
"And for a week?"
"Well, perhaps for ten days."
"But only to hospital?"
"Have I not pledged my honour?"
"Very good; I will see my good friend Jean this evening. But you, you
will remember, only the hospital." >>206
例祭の長文癖が死体蹴りにつながってるな
ヴィクトリアの用例をいくつか出せば山田もすぐ撤回するはずなのに
あそこまでダラダラ批判し続ける意味はない After the evening soup, as all were going out, he called me.
"It is settled, my comrade; only the hospital?"
"But yes," I answered.
"Not this?" said the corporal, fingering a bayonet.
I shook my head.
"Not this?" and he touched the butt of a rifle.
I answered as before.
"And only hospital; word of honour?"
"Word of honour," I replied.
"Be it so then; I am well content."
Then he looked behind his knapsack and found half-a-bottle of brandy, a
bottle of wine, and six cigars. He turned, put out his hand to me, and
said: >>203
禿同
SumaruのMatsutake 00お仕置きでも同じこと感じた
管理行為に一切手を出さないと桜ポップに確約させたむよむよが、今回も制御に入ればいいんだが、ミラブルbotブロックの件でスベってから謹慎してるっぽいんだよな この15分ボット、専ブラで消せない？
>>210
人手不足だよね >>211
to をNGワードに入れたら全部消える "You are my good comrade. Have no fear; if there should be trouble, it
is you, it is you that I will save." I laughed and shook his hand; he
gave me a cigar, and the next moment was sorry for his generosity.
Schmidt went off after the evening soup to see his chum.
"Very well, very well," we said to one another. Lots were quickly
drawn--we had not a son amongst us to toss with--and Nicholas the
Russian, Guillaume the Belgian, Jean Jacques from Lorraine, and I
were chosen as executioners of justice. The others lounged outside
in different places, all anxious to let us know in good time of the
arrival of the condemned. About an hour after soup we were warned that
he was coming towards the hut. At once the blanket which was ready was
laid on the ground directly inside the door, and each man stood at his
corner waiting for the victim. The others outside gaily saluted him,
and the fool did not suspect the unusual courtesy; he was humming an
air to himself as he stepped through the doorway on to the blanket. In
a second we had raised it at the corners; he stumbled and fell, in a
limp heap, in the bottom. We jerked the blanket upward, and crash came
his head against the roof of the hut. We let go at the word of command,
given by the Russian; flop went his body against the floor. Again and
again this was repeated, till our arms were tired, and the others who
had crowded in and had been excited by the fun swore that he had not
been punished sufficiently and that they would take our places. I was
glad enough to surrender my corner to an Italian, for, indeed, my arms >>206
>>208
[[ノート:ヴィクトリアダービー]]か
確かにオーバーキル気味だけど、これもまあ例祭の苛立ちはわかる
むしろ「山田先生どうしちゃったの」という感じの改名提案 井戸端でまだミラブル攻撃が続いてんだな
Twitterで躁鬱の可能性を自ら発信してると 元管理者が山田の思い（笑）だけで改名提案出せばゲンコツものだろ >>215
こいつHmanじゃないの
むかしミラブルに切れてたよね were weary, and my feelings--I was only a boy, you must remember--were
shocked at the sight of the unresisting and almost insensible bit of
humanity in the blanket.
After a short time the Russian said the game should stop, and we, the
other appointed dispensers of punishment, backed him up. Some grumbled,
but Nicholas, to give him his due, was not a man to be turned from his
purpose, and his reputation was such that nobody was very anxious to
fall out with him. So the blanket was dropped for the last time, pulled
from under the Alsatian, replaced on his bed, and we all went out,
leaving the wretched fellow groaning on the ground. After a short talk
we came back, gave him a drink, put him to bed, and prepared to meet
the corporal on his return.
The corporal came in a little before roll call.
"What's wrong?" he asked as he heard the moaning of the Alsatian.
Nobody answered. The corporal went across to the injured man's cot and
again inquired. The poor devil told him as well as he could, and the
_sous-officier_ at once ordered us all not to leave the hut until his
return. He went out, and came back in a few minutes with the sergeant
of the section. There is no need in telling all about the inquiry that
followed; suffice it to say that the corporal was the only man sleeping
in the room that night--the Alsatian was in hospital and we others
under guard. >>217
人工知能云々の下りから察するとYatobiとかGcGとかの名前が思い浮かぶんだけど
まあHmanのマッチポンプの可能性もなくはないのかな Of course, our conduct was approved of throughout the battalion.
Regimental tradition is dearer than justice, and we were regarded as
good soldiers and good comrades who had merely vindicated our honour.
But the army tradition is: when a charge is made and proved, punish.
Officers _may_ sympathise, but they _must_ punish. Therefore we of the
squad, corporal and Alsatian excepted, were sentenced to do extra drill
every day for a month and sleep in our clothes under guard every night.
It was a hard punishment. The weather was hot, we had little change of
underclothing, and when we lay down on the planks for the night with
the shirts and drawers on that we had worn during the day our sleep
was restless, fitful, and uneasy. It is a wonder we did not mutiny;
however, that would be going too far, so we counted the days and nights
that intervened until we should be free soldiers again. The Alsatian
was transferred from the hospital to another battalion, and I came
across him again, and was glad to find that he bore no malice; indeed,
he admitted that we were justified in acting as we had done and that it
was his own fault, as he had not asked for a transfer.
The incident I have related will give some idea of my life in the
corps. I shall have soon to relate another story, which will show that
jealousy might arise between companies as well as in a squad. CHAPTER VI
About this time there were signs of a disturbance amongst the
semi-savage tribes that hold the oases on the borders of the great
desert. These are not, and I daresay never will be, brought completely
under subjection. They are to the French in Algeria what the hill
tribes of the Himalayas are to the British in Hindostan. They are
by nature, proud, fierce, suspicious; by religion, contemptuous of
Christian dogs; by habit, predatory. They are fairly well armed,
indeed, they make their own weapons and ammunition. When they go on the
warpath there is always more trouble than one would expect, considering
their numbers; they are so elusive, so trained to forced marches, so
dashing in attack and swift in retreat, that the Government has to
allow at least three men for every Arab. If a general could corner
them and get well home with the bayonet after the usual preliminaries
of shell firing and musketry, or if the rascals would only come on and
have done with it, a quarter of the number would suffice. But these
pleasant things don't occur--I mean pleasant for the man with the
modern rifle--at least, if they do, it is only when all the oases of
the district have been seized, and then the Arabs may prefer to hazard
all on a big fight, but as a rule they bow to destiny and surrender.
Well, one morning we noticed the commandant and other officers jubilant and smiling, and very soon the news got down to us through
the _sous-officiers_ that our battalion was for active service. How
delighted we were! All punishments in the battalion were at once
remitted; we had no more to suffer for the affair of the Alsatian; and
the other squad, which had treated Alsatian number two in a similar
manner, was also included in the pardon.
We were not long getting ready for the march. The day after the good
news came the battalion tramped out of cantonments nearly 1100 strong,
every man in good condition, and with 150 cartridges in his pouches.
A significant order was given on the parade ground, when we formed
up for the last time in column of companies. We were told to break
open each man a packet of cartridges and to load. We did so, and the
commandant addressed us, and gave us fair warning that he could not
permit _accidents_--he laid great stress on the word and repeated it
more than once--he told us that if an _accident_ did occur it would
be bad for the man whose rifle should be found to be discharged; he
quoted the Bible to us, saying something about "a life for a life and
a tooth"--yes, I think it was a tooth--"for a tooth." The old soldiers
understood, and we others learned the meaning before we came to the
first halting-place.
The fact is, in every regiment, and nowhere more than in the Foreign
Legion, there are unpopular officers and sub-officers, and there are
feuds amongst the men, and what is easier than to loose off a rifle accidentally and, accidentally as it were, hit the man you dislike? In
action the thing is done far more commonly than people suppose--and
that is the safest time to do it; but after a fight, when all the men's
rifles are foul, and when a cartridge can be flung away as soon as
used, a bullet is sometimes sent through a tent on the off-chance of
hitting the right man within. So the commandant was justified when he
warned and threatened us about accidents.
We marched about twenty-five kilometres every day, and did it
cheerfully. We did not mind the country through which we passed, for
all our thoughts were turned to the work before us. The veterans were
in good humour. What advice they gave! "When the Arab charges you, mon
enfant, or when you charge the Arab, which is better, thrust at his
face the first time and at his body the second." "But why?" "Ah, my
boy, give him the bayonet in the body and still he will strike; give
it to him in the head, and then you can finish with a second stroke.
And, again, the glint of the bayonet will disturb his aim, and, even
should you miss with the first thrust, you can always get your weapon
back and send it home before he recovers--of course, that is if you are
quick enough. Moreover, the Arab expects you to lunge at his body, and
you must always, if you are a good soldier, disappoint your enemy. Then
there is no protection for his face; but a button or a piece of brass,
even a secretly-worn cuirass, may turn your point and leave you at his
mercy." >>227
トコロテン射精バカネ切干大根は英文コピペ荒らしとストーカー行為やめなさい >>231-232
トコロテン射精バカネ切干大根は15分間隔英文コピペ荒らしとストーカー行為やめなさい >>233-234
トコロテン射精バカネ切干大根は15分間隔英文コピペ荒らしとストーカー行為やめなさ >>212
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