The World War I Diary of José de la Luz Sáenz

Thanksgiving and Then to Germany

Thursday, November 28 T oday is the day for giving thanks. We had a service in a Catholic church without an altar, images, or benches. We had a protestant service followed by a friendly oration by a French priest. Most of our regimental officers as well as many of their French counterparts attended. I received many letters and answered some of them. The building housing the YMCA had been a German tavern with many paintings on its walls. They show how the French women behaved with the Teutonic soldiers after their occupation. One of the paintings shows German officers forcing the French barmaids to dance with them. They look like they complied reluctantly while the German soldiers respond with roaring laughter . The painting shows that the Germans have conquered everything with their big guns, except for the heart of the French women. In another image, a German officer with boots and military stripes demands a kiss while the maid resists with apparent loathing. The murals lack classic aesthetic beauty but they reveal obvious truths that we recognize as natural experiences in everyday life. We signed the pay list and received small delicious breads at the YMCA that we have put away for our next march, which will come soon enough. Friday, November 29 We heard rumors of entering Germany. We started to pack our typewriters and some other materials we used. We received official notification that our pilgrimage will start tomorrow, but that we will not be conducting a forced march with loaded weapons, although we will shoulder arms. Thanksgiving and Then to Germany 308 309 Thanksgiving Gómez and I volunteered to serve supper. This gave us the opportunity to fill our food containers today since we will not be able to do it tomorrow. The march will probably be exhausting. They all seem like this after a few days of rest. Saturday, November 30 We began the day by preparing for the march. History will record the memorable march we began early in the morning. We soon passed by Le Petit Vicey, Rep. sur Reveo. The town has been in ruins since the start of the war. The Germans used to sweep over everything. They left many artillery pieces at Longuyon. It was interesting to see how Germans painted or camouflaged the cannon to avoid the detection of our observers and airplanes. The piled-up cannon could easily exceed one thousand. They represent all calibers and makes. The large numbers of monsters with lazy yawning mouths make hairs stand on end. The Germans will no longer use them. They might become curiosity pieces in their museums. The cannon stirred so many different thoughts in me that I was unable to write. I have decided that whoever reads this should imagine the rest . . . We marched past Arrancy and Ramemcourt, Fme. Le Fleaure. I had a grueling night after dragging what I felt was a dislocated leg. It was my most painful march ever. The ground was very wet and sticky and, with the weight of my load, I suffered a sprain that worsened as the temperature got colder. I continued marching because we were accustomed to continuing until the end. I had to raise myself up with my hands every time we moved. At any rate, I had enough strength to reach our objective. We made our beds on platforms the sappers and engineers built for us. I sought medical care after supper. The doctor gave me the usual response, “I cannot attend to you because your name is not on the list I received this morning. Give it to the sergeant who takes up the names in the mornings.” I answered to myself, “You expect me to wait until tomorrow, thank you very much!” I kept quiet because we are not allowed to speak to an officer this way, especially now that the war has ended and everyone wants to reclaim authority instead of his responsibilities. I hobbled and grumbled until I reached a big German equipment warehouse . I found thousands of new helmets and took a small one that would not weigh me down. I then went to my sleeping area. My Personal Diary 310 Sunday, December 1 The sergeant approached me very early while calling on the sick and anyone else who was unable to join the march. I thanked him and felt the holy rage of the poor soldier. Our officer may have...