Free A Rose for the Anzac Boys by Jackie French Page A

generals like him! Madame still talks about how he marshalled all the taxi cabs and other cars when the Germans were marching on Paris, as well as all the reserve troops. She is sure Paris would have been lost without him. Our hotel has black garlands over every window. Madame is in black too, but then she is in black every day so thatdoesn’t count. But to please her we put on black armbands when we are at the canteen.
    The supplies are coming through, though there have been some delays lately, but that is to be expected. Ethel sent a lot of letters to friends of her father who are in the grocery trade too, and at times we now have biscuits and sometimes even chocolate to give to the men. The chocolate is greatly appreciated, as you can imagine, as the men can take it with them—as long as they do not leave it in their pocket like one poor Tommy who then sat down on it. You should have seen the mess! Poor boy. It looked as though he’d had the most embarrassing accident.
    I hope you don’t mind my reading your letters to the other girls. They all send their best wishes, as I do too.
    Your friend,
    Midge Macpherson
    31 May 1916
    Dear Midge,
    Another week has passed since I wrote to you last and by and large it has been an easy and quiet time. The men have been doing navvying on the nearby roads. I think it was Napoleon who said an army marches on its stomach. Well, ours marches in ruts big enough to bury a cart horse unless the roads are maintained pretty regularly. We can hear the shells over the hills but are pretty much out of it. It was strange today to watch the horses ploughing the fields unaware that a stray shell might plummet down, destroying them.
    You’d hardly know you were in France these days. I think I’ve only seen six French in the past week, and those were mostly horses. It is all Tommies and Anzacs where we are.
    I don’t know when we are for the front again, but my big news is that I am getting leave—two whole days of it. Could you bear to spend one of them with me, or even both? I could arrive on the ten past eight train—or whatever time it chooses to get in these days. Would Madame at your hotel be able to put me up? I can fit in with any plans you have. Or to bring up another of those Latin tags: Malum consilium quod mutari non potest —‘It’s a bad plan that you can’t change!’
    Do let me know if this would be an imposition. But as much as your letters mean to me, I would very much like to see you again in person.
    I remain, yours sincerely,
    Gordon Marks
    11 June 1916
    Dear Gordon,
    I have only time for a short note—things have been so hectic here. Please excuse all the blots too. My pen is weeping tonight—the ink here is so old it has lumps in it, or perhaps Madame makes it out of soot. I would so like to see you. I will arrange for the others to take my shifts so I can spend the whole two days with you. Carpe diem ! (I do know that much Latin! Or is it Greek?) And mirabile dictu too! (I got that one from Anne.)
    Madame will have a room for you. She is so impressed that Anne has a title that she does whatever she can for us, and perhaps she is a little grateful for what we do for ‘ la belle France ’ as well. Anyway, she will give you the room of her sister’s husband’s nephew, who cleans the shoes and lights the fires and tends the geese in the afternoons, and he can sleep with his family and run back to the hotel for his petit-déjeuner .
    I am so looking forward to seeing you.
    Your affectionate friend,
    Midge
4 JUNE 1916
    ‘Happy birthday, old thing.’
    Midge looked down at the parcel in Anne’s hand. ‘What is it? Chocolate! Oh, you darling. I thought we’d given out the last weeks ago. How did you get it?’
    Chocolate was their one luxury, to be nibbled in the cold corners of the night, when faces blurred and it seemed the whole world was cocoa and cans of bully beef.
    ‘It’s from both of us. Ethel and I have been saving our ration for the past fortnight.