Those that were already in the service had flooded the train stations and in crammed animal cars they set off “fresh and joyful”.
Their canteens filled with bad wine, towards future battlefields where little white crosses were waiting for them.
In the countryside, under the ringing of church bells future corpses waved bottles of cheap wine as they made their way to the train station. With Tocsin bells ranging farmers hugged their fiancés and their future war widows!
Their eyes were red, their ears and noses were red, the horizon was red and yet they yelled out that we’ll get’em, that it won’t take long, and that within a week they would be swigging a cold German beer in Berlin…
It was in the bag, cooked and ready to go! Long live France!