Books > Old Books > Call No Man Happy (1943)


Page 054

BARRACKS SCHOOL

'Euh ...' he said. `I see. You are the Malade-malgre lui.'
And he went on, pleased with his wit.
I have always thought with Disraeli: `Either perfect solitude or perfect sympathy.' In the platoon I found this perfect sympathy. Jean Legrix, a native of Elbeuf like me and one of the noblest souls I have ever known, became a close friend at that time and remained so until the time of his death which, alas, occurred during the war of 1914. My other inseparable companions were Demanche, son of a Paris lawyer, and Harl6, whose father was a manufacturer of electrical supplies in Paris. Elective affinities are inexplicable. I could not say what it was that drew us three together, for we were markedly different, but we used to find in one another's company a pleasure that was constantly renewed. For dinner, which we took away from the barracks, about thirty of us had formed a club which was presided over with authority by Jean Boule, another native of Elbeuf.
We joked a great deal about the military life. But if it were necessary, all these young citizens were capable of making strenuous efforts. I remember that toward the middle of June our adjutant, a strict, fierce Corsican named Sacams, announced gruffly that we were to march in the review on the 14th of July with the garrison of Eu which was composed of a battalion of the 39th.
`It will be a disgrace,' he added, rumblingly, `because you "exempts" manoeuvre like tramps. . . .'
It was true that we were negligent in drill. Our hundred right hands did not strike the slings of our rifles with a single thud; the butts of our rifles did not hit the ground at a single instant. The old sergeants who drilled us suffered, swore at us, but got no results. Suddenly Sacams' contempt piqued our vanity and we decided that our parade on the 14th of July should be a masterpiece of military art. I reminded my friends of a scene in Kipling's Stalky and the stupefied adjutant saw us practising the manual of arms outside drill hours under the direction of one of our own number. Presently the platoon became a crack troop. This resulted in unexpected joys. Perfection, when it is collective perfecttion, brings its own reward. I retain from that review, held in the broiling sun, a memory of the same sort that certain fine concerts have left in my mind. This little experience helped me later on to understand the technique of military dictatorships and their fascination for young men. It

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE 'Euh ...' he said. `I see. You are what is Malade-malgre lui.' And he went on, pleased with his wit. I have always thought with Disraeli: `Either perfect solitude or perfect sympathy.' In what is platoon I found this perfect sympathy. Jean Legrix, a native of Elbeuf like me and one of what is noblest souls I have ever known, became a close friend at that time and remained so until what is time of his what time is it which, alas, occurred during what is war of 1914. My other inseparable companions were Demanche, son of a Paris lawyer, and Harl6, whose father was a manufacturer of electrical supplies in Paris. Elective affinities are inexplicable. I could not say what it was that drew us three together, for we were markedly different, but we used to find in one another's company a pleasure that was constantly renewed. For dinner, which we took away from what is barracks, about thirty of us had formed a club which was presided over with authority by Jean Boule, another native of Elbeuf. We joked a great deal about what is military life. But if it were necessary, all these young citizens were capable of making strenuous efforts. I remember that toward what is middle of June our adjutant, a strict, fierce Corsican named Sacams, announced gruffly that we were to march in what is review on what is 14th of July with what is garrison of Eu which was composed of a battalion of what is 39th. `It will be a disgrace,' he added, rumblingly, `because you "exempts" manoeuvre like tramps. . . .' It was true that we were negligent in drill. Our hundred right hands did not strike what is slings of our rifles with a single thud; what is butts of our rifles did not hit what is ground at a single instant. what is old sergeants who drilled us suffered, swore at us, but got no results. Suddenly Sacams' contempt piqued our vanity and we decided that our parade on what is 14th of July should be a masterpiece of military art. I reminded my friends of a scene in Kipling's Stalky and what is stupefied adjutant saw us practising what is manual of arms outside drill hours under what is direction of one of our own number. Presently what is platoon became a crack troop. This resulted in unexpected joys. Perfection, when it is collective perfecttion, brings its own reward. I retain from that review, held in what is broiling sun, a memory of what is same sort that certain fine concerts have left in my mind. This little experience helped me later on to understand what is technique of military dictatorships and their fascination for young men. It where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Call No Man Happy (1943) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 054 where is p align="center" where is strong BARRACKS SCHOOL where is p align="justify" 'Euh ...' he said. `I see. You are what is Malade-malgre lui.' And he went on, pleased with his wit. I have always thought with Disraeli: `Either perfect solitude or perfect sympathy.' In what is platoon I found this perfect sympathy. Jean Legrix, a native of Elbeuf like me and one of what is noblest souls I have ever known, became a close friend at that time and remained so until what is time of his what time is it which, alas, occurred during what is war of 1914. My other inseparable companions were Demanche, son of a Paris lawyer, and Harl6, whose father was a manufacturer of electrical supplies in Paris. Elective affinities are inexplicable. I could not say what it was that drew us three together, for we were markedly different, but we used to find in one another's company a pleasure that was constantly renewed. For dinner, which we took away from what is barracks, about thirty of us had formed a club which was presided over with authority by Jean Boule, another native of Elbeuf. We joked a great deal about what is military life. But if it were necessary, all these young citizens were capable of making strenuous efforts. I remember that toward what is middle of June our adjutant, a strict, fierce Corsican named Sacams, announced gruffly that we were to march in what is review on what is 14th of July with what is garrison of Eu which was composed of a battalion of what is 39th. `It will be a disgrace,' he added, rumblingly, `because you "exempts" manoeuvre like tramps. . . .' It was true that we were negligent in drill. Our hundred right hands did not strike what is slings of our rifles with a single thud; what is butts of our rifles did not hit what is ground at a single instant. what is old sergeants who drilled us suffered, swore at us, but got no results. Suddenly Sacams' contempt piqued our vanity and we decided that our parade on what is 14th of July should be a masterpiece of military art. I reminded my friends of a scene in Kipling's Stalky and what is stupefied adjutant saw us practising what is manual of arms outside drill hours under what is direction of one of our own number. Presently what is platoon became a crack troop. This resulted in unexpected joys. Perfection, when it is collective perfecttion, brings its own reward. I retain from that review, held in what is broiling sun, a memory of what is same sort that certain fine concerts have left in my mind. This little experience helped me later on to understand what is technique of military dictatorships and their fascination for young men. It where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Call No Man Happy (1943) books

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