I thought of the picture I had seen in Paris of a group of
mothers standing at the foot of Calvary, looking out over the fields of
small black crosses, lifting their hands to Heaven, with the words--"We
also, God, have given our sons for the peace of the world."
At Montmirail the real activity of the war zone first became apparent.
We drew the car to the side of the road and waited whilst a long
procession of empty munition-wagons passed on the way back from the
munition-parks near the fighting-line. There was a smile on the face of
every one of the drivers. Each of them had the satisfaction of knowing
that there was no chance of his returning with an empty wagon, as there
is no lack of provisions to feed the hungriest of the "75's" or any of
her larger sisters.
The fact that it is known that there is an ample supply of munitions
plays an important part in the "moral" of the troops. The average
_poilu_ has no sympathy with the man who grumbles at the number of hours
he may have to work. We heard the tale of a munition-worker who was
complaining in a cafe at having to work so hard. A _poilu_ who was _en
permission_ and who was sitting at the next table, turned to him,
saying, "You have no right to grumble: you receive 10 to 12 francs a day
for making shells, and we poor devils get 5 sous a day for stopping
them!"
We lunched in the small but hospitable village of Sezanne, in company
with a most charming invalided officer who informed us that he was the
principal in that district of the S.
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