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Paths of Glory - Impressions of War Written at and Near the Front by Irvin S. (Irvin Shrewsbury) Cobb
page 111 of 310 (35%)
the lines of communication open while the first line, who were picked
troops, and the second line, who were reservists, pressed ahead into
France.

They showed a childlike curiosity to see the prisoners in the box cars
behind us. They grinned triumphantly at the Frenchmen and the
Britishers, but the sight of a Turco in his short jacket and his dirty
white skirts invariably set them off in derisive cat-calling and
whooping. One beefy cavalryman in his forties, who looked the Bavarian
peasant all over, boarded our car to see what might be seen. He had
been drinking. He came nearer being drunk outright than any German
soldier I had seen to date. Because he heard us talking English he
insisted on regarding us as English spies.

"Hark! they betray themselves," we heard him mutter thickly to one of
his wounded countrymen in the next compartment. "They are damned
Englishers."

"Nein! Nein! All Americans," we heard the other say.

"Well, if they are Americans, why don't they talk the American language
then?" he demanded. Hearing this, I was sorry I had neglected in my
youth to learn Choctaw.

Still dubious of us, he came now and stood in the aisle, rocking
slightly on his bolster legs and eying us glassily. Eventually a
thought pierced the fog of his understanding. He hauled his saber out
of its scabbard and invited us to run our fingers along the edge and see
how keen and sharp it was. He added, with appropriate gestures, that he
had honed it with the particular intent of slicing off a few English
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