Читать книгу High Adventure. A Narrative of Air Fighting in France – WW1 Novel онлайн

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On the following morning, we were at the Gare des Invalides with our luggage, a long half-hour before train-time. The luggage was absurdly bulky. Drew had two enormous suitcases and a bag, and I a steamer trunk and a family-size portmanteau. We looked so much the typical American tourists that we felt ashamed of ourselves, not because of our nationality, but because we revealed so plainly, to all the world military, our non-military antecedents. We bore the hallmark of fifty years of neutral aloofness, of fifty years of indifference to the business of national defense. What makes the situation amusing as a retrospect is the fact that we were traveling on third-class military passes, as befitted our rank as élève-pilotes and soldiers of the deuxième classe.

To our great discomfiture, a couple of poilus volunteered their services in putting our belongings aboard the train. Then we crowded into a third-class carriage filled with soldiers—permissionnaires, blessés, réformés, men from all corners of France and her colonies. Their uniforms were faded and weather-stained with long service. The stocks of their rifles were worn smooth and bright with constant usage, and their packs fairly stowed themselves upon their backs.