Free The Praetorians by Jean Lartéguy Page A

already embarrassing, especially when it was learnt that the band had got across the barrier without being fired on.
    The general composed his voice:
    â€œI hold you alone responsible for this operation, Colonel. I’m putting the other regiments under your orders. If our losses are too high, if the band is not completely wiped out, I give you my word: your career’s finished, I’ll make a report to the Ministry myself. In any case it is compromised as a result of your insolence and insubordination. I’m going back to my command post. I want you to give me a situation report every hour.”
    â€œYou can say that again,” Raspéguy thought to himself. “My career may perhaps be compromised, but yours is going to take a bit of a knock. I know that barrier. I’ve been along it from one end to the other, in front and behind. It can’t be crossed like an open field. There’s something fishy about this business, I can feel it in my bones. You’re the one behind it, Marrestin.”
    The colonel picked up the receiver and answered Orsini.
    â€œI can hear you more clearly now. Have you reached the top of the slope yet?”
    â€œJust about. I’ve got a prisoner who’s talked. We had to knock him about a bit. He tells me his little pals had buried all their heavy weapons and were escorting an important chief. He doesn’t know where the weapons are or the name of this chief.”
    As he flew over the pennant of the 10 th Regiment, the general sniggered:
    â€œâ€˜I dare.’ You’re telling me!”
    But in the eyes of his pilot, a young N.C.O., he saw a gleam of such violent hatred that he felt frightened throughout the return flight. The N.C.O. had witnessed the altercation.
    Â * * * * 
    As each piece of information reached them, Raspéguy and Captain Naugier marked the companies’ new positions in red and blue on the map.
    The colonel stroked his chin. He had had no time to shave and he did not like the feeling.
    â€œDo you think I went a little too far with our brass-hat friend? What do you feel about it, Naugier?”
    â€œIn 1917 you might have been shot, sir, but today you’re bound to be backed up.”
    â€œCan you tell me why?”
    â€œWhen parents throw their child out into the street they can’t expect respect and obedience from him when he’s an adult. Well, we’ve become adult without the help of our traditional leaders; we have fought wars in which they took no part and undertaken journeys on which they were unwilling to accompany us. We have suffered a lot, which has prompted us to think. But our leaders have remained in the state of knowledge they had reached at the age of twenty. Our fellow-countrymen have ignored us for ages. But they showed some interest in us when we gave them a good fright on May 13 th and they felt themselves threatened. They thus discovered that we were ‘not altogether happy.’ Esclavier resigns and is at once headline news. A short time ago no one would even have heard of him. Fear has made film-stars out of us, and that’s not what we wanted. So, of course, one shoots a line, squares one’s shoulders and draws one’s stomach in, but we feel like crying. Here we are, turned into prætorians for having wished too strongly to be soldiers of the people, and into bogeymen for having wanted to be loved.”
    At that moment the second lieutenant reappeared, clambering with difficulty over the rocks, dragging his haversack behind him. Naugier blew his nose. Raspéguy pointed a finger at the lad.
    â€œTo begin with, the paratroops were a wonderful myth, a story to enthral every schoolboy in France. But instead of spreadingthroughout the army, and growing bigger and better, the myth has shrunk, as you’ve seen for yourself, and now it’s turning to vinegar.”
    Standing with his hands in his pockets, facing the curving line of the bare grey