Passage to Marseille Page #3

one of those venerable tramps,

which wallow across the backwaters

of the world year after year.

She wore the customary coat

of rust-streaked black paint.

We had a good Breton skipper,

Captain Malo,

who knew his way around the seven seas

as a blind man knows his own room.

Also, two decent mates

who idolized their captain.

The companionship of such men did much

to keep the tedium of the long,

slow voyage from being too oppressive.

And sometimes there were songs of home

from the fo'c'sle.

Our crew was made up of hardbitten,

salty old-timers,

who may have been

no better than they should be,

but were French to a man.

For stokers and coal passers,

we had the scum of the Earth,

mongrel dregs

from every port in the tropics,

dominated by a chief engineer

cut to the same pattern.

As there were but three cabin passengers,

we all messed at the Captain's table.

The seat of honor was filled very amply

by a Major Duval

of the Infanterie Coloniale.

He was a dominating,

narrow-minded martinet,

who had proved his courage

in the last war

and had learned nothing since.

With him was his aide, Lieutenant Lenoir.

He hung on Duval's every word,

a typical yes man.

These, the first and second mates

and the chief engineer,

made up our official family.

Oh, yes, there was one other.

A treacherous youth, Jourdain by name,

who proved to be the wireless officer.

Latest bulletin, sir.

"A day of comparative quiet was enjoyed

on the Maginot Line.

"From the German fortification

across the river,

"the Nazi radio broadcast an appeal

to the French soldiers

"to lay down their arms

and refuse to spill their blood

"in a useless fight

for the decadent democracies.

"Some martial music was also broadcast

by the Nazis

"and the loyal French soldiers

are understood to have booed."

What kind of a war is this?

Soldiers say boo? Soldiers of France?

I am a soldier. I fight you. I say boo?

And listening to music. Is this war?

- I can...

- Or is it a band concert?

- Kindly allow the Commandant to speak.

- I beg your pardon.

I can tell you what kind of a war.

The Germans are afraid.

- They're afraid of our Maginot Line.

- Brilliant, mon Commandant.

- The whole truth in a nutshell.

- That's right.

They know that no power on Earth

can break through it.

What are we going to do,

sit there indefinitely?

Yes, we'll sit there indefinitely

and even longer if that is necessary.

That is what soldiers are for,

to hold the line.

I say the Maginot Line is invincible.

I say the Siegfried Line is invincible.

And what is that but stalemate?

Where does it get us?

Freycinet, I think I'm going to like you.

Victory comes with endurance.

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