First Days in France
THERE are many American boys now who are quite familiar with the Louvre, Boulevards, Notre Dame and Napoleon’s Tomb at Paris but who know absolutely nothing of the Metropolitan Museum, Fifth Avenue and its Cathedral, or Grant’s Tomb. The many ports of France were particularly the home of the colored soldiers, so that landing at Bordeaux it did not seem strange to be greeted first of all by our own men. But it did seem passing strange that we should see them guarding German prisoners! Somehow we felt that colored soldiers found it rather refreshing—even enjoyable for a change—having come from a country where it seemed everybody’s business to guard them.
Bordeaux was singularly the home of colored soldiers. They were in the camps there by the thousands. In fact, as we landed at Bordeaux, it seemed every man’s home. So crowded and varied was its population, one could almost believe that during the nine days of silence on the ocean, Paris had been passed by the enemy. There were many Colonial troops, Chinese laborers and, more or less maimed French soldiers. The French government had been removed to that city in which the blending of the finest in old and new architecture made it a charming substitute for Paris. Sitting in the park that evening, looking out upon the teeming life about us, with crowds of black-robed women and helpless soldiers filling in the picture, there came to us our first definite realization of the cost of war.
Our first dinner in France, with butter and real ice cream, was an unfortunate delusion, for it in no way prepared us for all the lean days to follow. Especially not for the war-breakfast the next morning—a thick piece of dark bread, a hard-boiled egg and a cup of black coffee—all thrown at us in unsweetened confusion; for while we waited for sugar, we were informed that for the future we must use a liquid substitute supplied us in bottles.
But Paris was our destination, and we rode all day over that part of France so full of historical memories—past Tours with its Cathedral of Royal Staircase and Towers; past Blois with its chateau of historical pre-eminence; past Orleans, over which the spirit of Jeanne d’Arc eternally hovers—on to Paris.