BOOKS OF THE DAY

Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 3000, 10 February 1917, Page 13

BOOKS OF THE DAY

lattlea and Bivouacs, , • h a d dozens of books in •which British observers, soldiers, or Civilians have described the war on tho lYVestorn front. In "Battles and oivouaos: A French Soldier's Notehy Jacques Roujon, translated «y Fred, llothwoll (Georgo Allen and • given war pictures as ■viewed through Freuoh glasses. Under ir original title, "Carnet do Route," •M. Roujon's book has had an extensivo circulation in France, and anlSnglish translation was very welcomo. The author is a well-known Parisian journalist, and was a member of tho staff of Le Figaro" beforofho answered his country s call and bocame a poilu. His book is a series of vividly picturesque impressions, thumb-nail sketches, as it were, of the dramatic and tragic scenes in whioh he participates, sketches all, the more ■ vivid, perhaps, for their very brevity. There is no tendency towardß theatrical effect, no trace of exaggeration. Everything is set down calmly. The narrative scintillates reality and veracity on Jts every page. M. Roujon writes of Hie first six months of the war. Everywhere in his book one finds evidence of that grim, silent spirit of 6tem determination which has characterised, and still dominates, the French soldier. He does not, however, disdain an occasional joke—-thoro is humour as well as the dramatic' and pathetic in his book. Only_ once or twice does tho author mention tho English. He and his comrades camo across them on the way to the Aisne, and greatly admired ]the_ neatness, the . thoroughness of their camping arrangements. Here,. too, ig an entry in the diary whioh shows how deep is the feeling of gratitude and esteem of the French soldiers for their English Allies:— Saturday, October 31. The commander of our company addressed us to-day as follows:— "Abovo the grotto are buried four Englishmen, killed hero last montli. On All vou would not liko their tombs/ which yon have seen so .often, to appear neglected. Make sojrio wreafils, and we will all go together and place them on tho graves of'those who died in defence of our soil.' It is not your ■commander, it is your comrade who asks this of' yon. J '" ' ■ "*' Tho men silently leave tEb ranks and !set ont into the woods. In less than ton hour they have made up beautiful wreaths of ivy and holly! Chrysanthemums havebeqn, found, in ;a garden .which the Germans have forgotten to plunder.. The graves,, indicated by a coudlo-of crosses, have become pretty tombs," similar to those one'sees''in a village Cemetery. The entire company lined up on the hillock for the simple ceremony. Our lieutenant saluted in memory of our unknown brothers who have • given their Uvea for France, We shouted aloud, "Vive rAngleterreThe picket rennared the honours due, and each man returned to his post. ' ■ These dead heroes are Lieutenant B. MacGuire and Privates' H. C. Dover. R. Byrne, and Ford, of the Royal Dublin 'Fusiliers. _ In offering 1 those flowers to their mem"ory our thoughts were ■ directed to the taourning families' of the dead soldiers.; Of the horrors of war tho diary taontains. many, terrible pictures. ' But, as I have' aaiid; tliere , 'ar6 'soma hum6r-' bus rtouchcs. of-M.-Roujon'a .-narrative,: The ' beetroot has. always. (before.. the war) been a favourite vegetable with the French. But the French soldier, doomed, to trudge hour after hour through fields of sugar beet, has grown to loathe the very name .or it, for his foot is twiat-ed and slips, aboui; in all directions. • On oho ooca'iiori (Tuesday, (December 22) the. author tells • how an : |artißt comrade, diverts tHe company; iwitb -an exhibition of beotroot 'caricatares: Raymond invites a few friends to inaugurate an exhibition' of drawings he has just -finished. Into • the -recesses of the trench- walls enormous .beetroots are fitted. On the slices of these hard white roots (they resemble iW no way the beetroot of tho salad bowl), . cut clean through ( with a chop from a. spade, .Raymond has sketched, with a violet crayon,' some of the heads of the section. Here, with its • prominent skull and hose;'-we have the pessimist MauVontro, Who, at the faintest distant roar of the cannon, sighs: "Here corao the. marmites! (The big shells.) They'll be the death of us. all yot, see,if.they're not.". Raymond has well naught the anxious, ' troubled- features of the .-intrepid-: soldier. On another "alico of . beetroot is the droll silhouette of Corporal Davor, his startled face almost hidden between his ' shoulders and his arms akimbo.- Daror goes about, at night time, to stir iip those oh sentry duty: "Keep a watch on the right. Keep a watch on tho left." One sourco of diversion for us is to assume, whenever tho good fellow passes, the indifferent air of one who ridicules the German attacks. Wo all figure in the collection.. Varlet is a striking type, i with his-badger profilo immoderately, lengthened out by a pipe in the form of p shell:or•,conch, which, appears to he soldered on to his nose. . The beetroot haunts our very dreams. Sincere seem to bb tormented with tho beetroot for all etornity, we may as well extract what fun wo can out of it. A feature of the book is the almost ,'complete absence of a-ily expressions of hatred of tho enemy. I fail to discover a single instance (though I have missed one such) whore the term Boche is employed. Tho French are out to defeat the enemy, not to abuse him. (N.Z. price, '6s. 6d.) . .