Death To The French (aka Rifleman Dodd) - Plot & Excerpts
'Who is?' 'We are. You and I. We are going carpentering or rope- making or boat-building- they want men for all those.' 'Who does?' 'Headquarters. The colonel announced this morning that all men with a knowledge of carpentry or boat-building or rope-making or smith's work were to report to the adjutant. So I reported for you and me. I didn't have to tell him more than the truth. When I said that my father owned one-third of the Chantier Naval, and that you and I had spent half our lives in small boats in Nantes harbour, he put our names down at once. We are to report at Santarem to-morrow.' 'Santarem?' asked Dubois vaguely. 'Santarem is twenty kilometres down the river,' said Godinot. 'Heaven bless us, man, don't you remember marching up through it?' But since the conscription had taken him from his home a year ago, at the age of seventeen and a half, Dubois had marched through too many places to remember half of them. 'So that arm of yours must be better by to-morrow,' said Godinot.
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