It was little enough we were doing for those
men, but they were moved to graceful speech. We were hard put to it,
because one had to tell them that much of the giving for a hundred years
had been from France to us, and our showing in this war is hardly the
equal of the aid they sent us when we were invaded by Hessian troops and
a German king.
Marins whom we know have the swift gratitude of simple natures, not too
highly civilized to show when they are pleased. After we had sent a
batch of their wounded by hospital train from Adinkerke, the two
sailors, who had helped us, invited my American friend and me into the
_estaminet_ across the road from the station, and bought us drinks for
an hour. We had been good to their mates, so they wanted to be good to
us.
When we lived in barraquement, just back of the admiral's house, our
cook was a Marin with a knack at omelettes. If we had to work through
the night, going into black Nieuport, and down the ten-mile road to
Zuydcoote, returning weary at midnight, a brave supper was laid out for
us of canned meats, wines, and jellies--all set with the touch of one
who cared. It was no hasty, slapped-down affair. We were carrying his
comrades, and he was helping us to do it.
It was an officer of a quite other regiment who, one time when we were
off duty, asked us to carry him to his post in the Dunes. We made the
run for him, and, as he jumped from the car, he offered us a franc.
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