Memoirs of the Foreign Legion by Maurice Magnus

THE week passed slowly. I used the sudden call to the front to further my cause to get permission to go to Paris for three or four days, saying that I wanted to settle my private affairs at my Embassy, in case I should be called again. I had applied for permission when I heard that the usual vacations had not been granted at Easter, and were to be given now in accordance with the orders from the Ministry of War. I was silent about the permission I had had at Bel-Abbès for Easter. I was told that my request could not be granted officially, as I had not been a soldier three months, and I had no right to get a permission for more than twenty-four hours; but the Captain would make an exception with me and give me two days' permission for Paris on his own account.

A day or two after the departure of the troops to the front a manoeuvre was announced. We had to be ready as usual, at 5.30 a.m., with full kit. Valbonne lies in a low plain, and in the early morning the dampness covers the earth and meadows like a wet thick sheet. Both the Legion and the French regiment encamped with us were to take part in the manoeuvre. We were lined up near the big _café_, just inside the camp boundary, and a horde of _élève-officiers_ were apportioned to us, or rather we were apportioned to them. Most of them were educated young men, who, since the war commenced, had been given the privilege to study to be officers, not only to avoid being privates, but also to fill the enormous gaps caused by the killed and wounded officers at the front.