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Page 65
There was a murmur in the ranks, but bewilderment deprived us of the
power of taking concerted action. A sudden fear seized me--could last
night's celebrations have been the result of a false alarm?
We marched off. But no one did a stroke of work the whole day. All
discipline had gone. The N.C.O.'s had no vestige of authority left. Men
from other units whom we met knew no more than we did. They said the
Armistice had been signed, but there had been no official announcement.
We got back to camp in the afternoon. No official news.
In the evening the celebrations were renewed. I was troubled by an
intense anxiety which began to spread to the others. Still, there would
certainly be an announcement the following morning.
We paraded on Tuesday morning. No announcement of any kind. We marched
off to work as usual, but again no work was done. Suddenly I caught
sight of a soldier walking along the road a long way off with a
newspaper in his hand. I ran after him and caught him up.
"Any news?" I asked.
He gave me the paper. It was dated Monday, the 11th November--only a day
old. The headline ran: "No Armistice yet."
So Sunday's demonstration had been a sham and a fraud!
I rejoined the others. They, too, had heard that no Armistice had been
signed by Sunday midnight from a despatch rider who had, however, added
that signature was expected every minute.
We were back in camp. Many new rumours were circulating--the Germans had
rejected the terms, the Italians had renewed the offensive. In the
evening some of us thought they could hear distinct gunfire. We listened
carefully, but our mental tension destroyed our power of hearing very
faint sounds.
Wednesday morning, and still no definite news. The suspense was becoming
unbearable. No work was done. I questioned men from five other units,
but none of them were any better informed than we were.
The expectation of peace had made us forget our bitterness towards the
army, but it began to show itself again:
"They don't want us to know!"
"They're damned sorry it's all over!"
"There's too many of 'em wi' soft jobs what wants the war to go on for
ever!"
"What are you grumbling about? What has the Armistice got to do with us?
The Armistice concerns the Staff, not us. It's not our business--we're
only common soldiers."
When we got back to camp a boy was selling papers at the entrance. I
bought a _Times_. It was Tuesday's. The Armistice had been signed on the
Monday morning!
I went to my tent and sat down and thought it over. The terms were
ominous. There was no doubt about it this time--the war had come to an
end. I thought of home and of freedom. It almost seemed as though
army-life had been a dream. I was still in the army, but a few months
more or less would make no difference, for my thoughts would be all in
the future.
Then I pondered over the last insult the army had given us--the insult
of not even telling us when the war was over, and making no concessions
to allow us time for rejoicing or reflection. After having slaved and
suffered all these years we were ignored as though we did not exist.
Still, one insult more or less did not matter, for we would be out of it
soon.
In the evening the celebrations were resumed. They lacked the
spontaneity of those that were held on the Sunday night. Nevertheless,
the rejoicing was genuine, for our suspense had been followed by an
immense relief.
As I lay in my tent amid the shouting and singing I again felt that
bitter thoughts were gathering, but I was distracted by a man sitting
two places from me, who said:
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