The Moral is to the Physical as Three is to One ...

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They were back with their unit, they had managed to stay in the rear for three days before the Baron announced that it was time to go back. Louis was reluctant, but the Baron was insistent. There were rumors of a mutiny on another section of the front, a unit had refused to go into combat.

An investigation had revealed that the unit, a reserve regiment, was badly treated by its officers and hadn't been paid in over a month. But, and Louis paid close attention to this, two of the men had been court-martialed and shot.

"Shot? Because they hadn't been paid and refused to move up to the line? Isn't that like workmen refusing to finish a job because they haven't been paid? Why weren't the officers punished? This seems ..."

"Outrageous? Of course it is, lad. But the men who were shot organized the refusal, they convinced the rest of the men that the army couldn't punish all of them. And they were right, they only punished the ones who convinced the others not to move up. As for the officers? Who knows, perhaps the colonel has relatives in the government, wouldn't be the first time the guilty go free because they have powerful protectors."

"It isn't right," Louis sulked.

"No, it isn't but that colonel brought disgrace upon the army, he'll be quietly shuffled off to some meaningless assignment. His career is over."

Louis sat up and waved a hand in the Baron's face, "But those two men, their lives are over, what of their families?"

The Baron studied Louis for a moment, he didn't like people getting in his face, but he took a deep breath and said, "Life is not fair, or haven't you noticed that by now?"

The remainder of the walk back to their unit, back in reserve once more, was silent.

"Ah, glad you could join us Sergeant de Neuville, Soldat Milhaud¹. I thought perhaps that you had decided to retire to the countryside and take no more part in the war." The major's² tone was jocular, but the look on his face was anything but.

"My shoulder was dislocated, Sir, Louis came to find me, I convinced him to wait with me until my shoulder was better. It was only three days, Sir."

"Only three days. eh, Sergeant? I think for that you should start your climb up the ranks all over again. But your actions, along with those of Soldat Milhaud, were praised by your lieutenant. So for now, you keep your stripes, do it again, I will not be so understanding. Are we understood?"

The Baron nodded and apologized for his actions, "I understand, Sir. May we report to our lieutenant now?"

The major shook his head, "Of course. You are incorrigible Baron, do not try my patience again. Now go, before I change my mind."

The next day the Baron awakened to find Louis gone. "I hope that lad hasn't got any fool ideas into his head," he muttered as he pulled on his coat, grabbed his rifle and left the old barn the men were occupying. There, next to a campfire, sat Louis, looking morose and perhaps feeling sorry for himself.

As the Baron approached, Louis looked up and glumly pronounced, "You were right."

"About?"

Louis gestured with his chin, pointing it towards the east. The Baron could hear the rumble of artillery, the occasional chatter of a machine gun. "The war, it's still there, waiting for us, waiting to devour us and all our comrades."

"There is nothing certain in this life, lad," the Baron tried to assure Louis.

"Please tell that to the men who have died up until now, please tell that to the men who will die before this futile war is over."

The Baron had had enough, he strode over to Louis, and grabbing the young soldier by the lapels of his greatcoat, jerked him to his feet.

"Futile? Would you rather just give the country over to the Boche? Would you let them once more dictate terms to us at Versailles?³"

"That's not what I meant, I only mean ..."

"What? What do you mean, boy?"

The Baron, furious, continued.

"We humbled those damned Prussians at Jena, and Auerstädt. We made them run at Fleurus⁴, we stopped them at the Marne, we shall stop them here. To quit is to surrender the sacred soil of France to their damned arrogant Kaiser. They invaded US! Remember that, boy, this war is not futile, it is a question of national survival!"

Louis stood in stunned silence, then he lowered his eyes to the ground and mumbled an apology.

"Don't apologize to me, boy. Apologize to those who have fallen by doing your duty, nothing more, nothing less."

The Baron stormed off, Louis had never seen the man so angry.

Later on, Louis was sitting outside a small shed within which some of the new men were playing cards. Louis' mood had improved, listening to these young soldiers banter and kid each other, reminded him of festival days in his home village. He heard a footstep behind him.

Turning, he saw that it was the Baron. He looked a bit sheepish as his sergeant slapped him on the shoulder then sat next to him.

"Feeling better, lad?"

"Yes, a bit ..." Louis paused, then added, "Actually much better, I've been thinking about ..."

"Don't think so much, lad. Simply do your duty, leave the bitching to me. You know I'm far better at it than you."

Louis smiled and nodded, "That you are, my dear Baron, that you are."

"Enjoy this day, Louis. We're going back up to the line tomorrow, apparently the Boche are getting restless and our presence is required to, how you say, calm them down?"

"And we do that by ...?"

"Killing them boy, killing each and every one of them until not another Boche stands on French soil. Even if it takes decades."

"Let's hope it doesn't take quite so long," a voice spoke behind them.

Both men turned, it was their lieutenant.

"I want you lads near me from now on, you're both good luck. Sergeant de Neuville, you are now my platoon sergeant, Private First Class Milhaud, you are now my platoon messenger. Is that suitable?"

Louis began to speak, the lieutenant interrupted him, "I expect you to have that stripe sewn on by tomorrow, Milhaud."

"Yes Sir, I will Sir, where ...?"

"You can have my old stripes, Louis. I have them somewhere."

When the lieutenant left, Louis was beaming.

"Easy lad, it's not like you've been promoted to Marshal of France," the Baron said, chuckling.

"No, but it's a start," Louis said, still grinning from ear to ear.

The Baron shook his head and said nothing. One moment the lad was ready to throw in the towel, the next he seems ready to take on the world. Now to keep the lad alive.

And that, was a sergeant's job.

¹ Louis' full name is Louis Gaston Milhaud. I realized that I hadn't given him a family name before now.

² I should point out that this rank in the French army of 1914 - 1918 (and earlier) was actually chef de battalion. But rather than inflict more French upon you, gentle reader, I've used the English term throughout this tale.

³ At the end of the Franco-Prussian War the German Empire was proclaimed from the palace of Versailles, home to generations of French kings.

⁴ What is called in English the Battle of Ligny, Napoléon's last victory in 1815 where the French defeated the Prussians.