The French often use a bitter and biting humour in speaking of the
enemy. For instance, amongst the many pets of the men, the
strangest I saw was a small hawk sitting on the wrist of a soldier
who had trained him. The bird was the personification of evil. If any
one approached he snapped at them and endeavoured to bite
them. I asked the man why he kept him, and he replied that they
had quite good sport in the trenches when they allowed the hawk
to hunt small birds and field mice. Then his expression changing
from jovial good humour to grimness, he added, "You know, I call
him 'Zepp,' because he kills the little ones," (parcequ'il tue les tous
petits.)




Devotion To Animals



In one small cantonment where two hundred Poilus sang, shouted,
ate, drank and danced together to the strain of a wheezy
gramophone, or in one word were "resting," I started to investigate
the various kinds of pets owned by the troopers. Cats, dogs and
monkeys were common, whilst one Poilu was the proud possessor
of a parrot which he had purchased from a refugee obliged to fly
from his home. He hastened to assure us that the bird had learned
his "vocabulary" from his former proprietor. A study in black and
white was a group of three or four white mice, nestling against the
neck of a Senegalais.