Fraternity-Testvériség, 1944 (22. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1944-08-01 / 8. szám
4 TESTVÉRISÉG LETTER FROM FRANCE By Gedeon Géza Takaró ACHTUNG! The American sense of humor flourishes despite any grim realities of war, and despite haradships and physical discomforts. It must be that unfailing knack of Americans to see humor in any situation which helps them over the rougher spots. In illustration of my point I can cite a sign I saw tacked over the door of a room in one abandoned building sometime the headquarters of a German outfit. Here is what the sign said: “ACHTUNG'’ (whatever that means) Notice to PEDDLERS SALESMEN TOURISTS SNIPERS, etc. STAY OUT! This room is occupied by_________________2nd Lt., C. E. It is difficult to imagine that any German officer, for instance, would unbend enough to tack up such a sign over his door. This ability to put a little comic relief into otherwise very grim situations is also manifest in the numerous “Broadway and 42nd St.” signs which pop up in the most unexpected places. Of course the humor is often carried to grotesque lengths — but to anyones injury. Since we were all required to get G. I. haircuts in Merrie Englande, a number of the men decided to improve upon nature and either shaved their hair off entirely of affected the most startling tonsorial jobs you can imagine. One man had shaved off all his hair except for a topknot. Another had his shaved in such a way as to leave a strip about an inch high, shaped in the form of a V on top of his head, extending from his brow to the back of his head. Some of these haircuts should scare the Germans half to death. But it’s all in fun, and shows the innate humor of the troops. Since most of our life centers in our foxholes, I will describe ours to you more in detail. It is approximately six feet long, and about four feet wide- some three feet deep. Since Woody is six feet tall and couldn’t quite stretch out, we had to undercut one end a little to give him sufficient room. We cut also a niche to hold our packs and other rig, constructed a rack for rifles, built a long shelb on one side for other items of loose gear (and toilet articles, cigarettes, stationery, etc.). A wide shelf at the head end of the foxhole serves as added protection for our heads when we are laying down, and also as a writing desk. One or two of the boys speak French fhiently and as a result they come across such things as fresh eggs and sometimes fresh milk, with comparative ease. ORGAN AND ARTILLERY This was certainly a very trying and busy day, withal full of new experiences and some interesting ones. We held three separate services today, each in a different locale, to different troops and under dissimilar conditions. We have now held services in abandond German mess halls, in horse barns (with horses listening in nearby) and in the main shed of a sometime dairy (cheese making). I struggled with my portable organ through ankle deep mud, through flocks of ducks, geese, chickens, and sundry unidentified barnyard fowl, and over some pretty rough terrain. At one service the floor under me shook so from the nearby artillery fire that the organ was bouncing all over the floor. But I stuck with it even when it seemed to grimace as I played Rock of Ages. But at each service we could see the men were really grateful for it, and that made the tiring, bouncing trips worthwhile. At one place we talked with the French people who live at the large manse near where the outfit we were visiting were camped .. . The man seemed the nicest type French gentleman and he, armed with a dictionary, we with our small G. I. conservation books in hand, and much sign language, kept up a conservation of a sort. My pronunciation seems to be quite satisfactory, for I never have trouble getting them to understand what I am saying in French. I hope though that I’m not here long enough to learn how to talk fluently.
