Read Online Women's Barracks by Tereska Torres - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tereska Torres
Ads: Link
Valenciennes. Indeed, Englishmen often pressed my hands in the street, repeating the same words. The English are nice.
Ursula got down from the bus. For a moment it was difficult for her to orient herself in the dark, but she managed to find her way toward Down Street.
That night there were fewer of us at dinner than usual. It was a Saturday, and many of the girls had begun to make friends and to go out. In the rooms at night, there were always some who talked about their lovers, recounting their experiences in full detail, while laughing and often ridiculing the men. I suppose for some of us, this served to increase our curiosity, and at the same time to decrease the importance of such things, to lower the barriers to love affairs, so that it didn't matter much if one went out and did the same. After all, all this was temporary. The war would soon be over. In the spring of 1941 there would surely be a second front. And then our exile would be ended, together with all these local love affairs and the loneliness of Down Street. But for others of us, this easy talk had another effect, making promiscuity repulsive.
The talk went on when we went down to supper, and while we stood in line for our food. Sergeant Machou, the cook, dished out the portions according to her preferences. The best servings were handed to the women who flattered her, or who could talk back with her own vulgarity. She also had respect for those who were friendly with the officers, and so she was always generous with Ann.
Ursula stood in line for her soup, and then she looked around, and I knew that she was looking for Claude. But Claude had liberty, and had gone out to dinner. Mickey was gossiping at another table. She kept whispering to Ginette and glancing at Ursula. I had already heard a bit of Mickey's tale upstairs. Although Mickey had warned Ursula to keep silent, she apparently felt no need to follow her own advice. As Ursula hesitated, looking so isolated, missing Claude, I motioned her over to the place beside me.
That evening in the dormitory, the women all looked at her coldly, and scarcely anyone spoke to her. I helped her carry her bedding up from the switchboard room.
Ginette made a remark about gousses, and there was a general burst of laughter. But Ursula didn't know what it meant. She went to bed early, and in spite of the light and the noise, she closed her eyes, trying to sleep. Poor girl; she had told me everything, as we trundled her bedding from the switchboard room, and I knew that she could not sleep, and that she was lying there with a cold feeling oppressing her heart.
Chapter 9
I had been given more interesting work to do. Every day our contacts with France grew better, and some of the resistance reports came to me, to be adapted for use in propaganda. I became deeply absorbed, excited by my work, and it was perhaps because of the excitement of my task that I felt less need for a personal emotional life than so many of the girls. Or perhaps I was only slower to develop, emotionally.
Jacqueline, doing the same sort of work, nevertheless was soon personally enmeshed. She was in an office next door to mine, for her chief. Lieutenant De Prade, was working on establishing more contacts with the resistance movement.
From the day when she had been assigned to his office, Jacqueline had told herself that she was fated, and that it was her fate always to be unlucky. For here she had discovered the man of her life. He was intelligent, elegant, cultivated, handsome, and they had the same tastes in everything. But he was married, and he adored his young wife and children, whom he had had to leave in France. Moreover, De Prade was a devout Catholic, and he treated Jacqueline like a young sister. Nevertheless, she was certain that he was desperately attracted to her.
As for De Prade, he struggled against Jacqueline's attraction with all his strength. He knew that she was in love with him, but he tried to persuade himself that this
Ursula got down from the bus. For a moment it was difficult for her to orient herself in the dark, but she managed to find her way toward Down Street.
That night there were fewer of us at dinner than usual. It was a Saturday, and many of the girls had begun to make friends and to go out. In the rooms at night, there were always some who talked about their lovers, recounting their experiences in full detail, while laughing and often ridiculing the men. I suppose for some of us, this served to increase our curiosity, and at the same time to decrease the importance of such things, to lower the barriers to love affairs, so that it didn't matter much if one went out and did the same. After all, all this was temporary. The war would soon be over. In the spring of 1941 there would surely be a second front. And then our exile would be ended, together with all these local love affairs and the loneliness of Down Street. But for others of us, this easy talk had another effect, making promiscuity repulsive.
The talk went on when we went down to supper, and while we stood in line for our food. Sergeant Machou, the cook, dished out the portions according to her preferences. The best servings were handed to the women who flattered her, or who could talk back with her own vulgarity. She also had respect for those who were friendly with the officers, and so she was always generous with Ann.
Ursula stood in line for her soup, and then she looked around, and I knew that she was looking for Claude. But Claude had liberty, and had gone out to dinner. Mickey was gossiping at another table. She kept whispering to Ginette and glancing at Ursula. I had already heard a bit of Mickey's tale upstairs. Although Mickey had warned Ursula to keep silent, she apparently felt no need to follow her own advice. As Ursula hesitated, looking so isolated, missing Claude, I motioned her over to the place beside me.
That evening in the dormitory, the women all looked at her coldly, and scarcely anyone spoke to her. I helped her carry her bedding up from the switchboard room.
Ginette made a remark about gousses, and there was a general burst of laughter. But Ursula didn't know what it meant. She went to bed early, and in spite of the light and the noise, she closed her eyes, trying to sleep. Poor girl; she had told me everything, as we trundled her bedding from the switchboard room, and I knew that she could not sleep, and that she was lying there with a cold feeling oppressing her heart.
Chapter 9
I had been given more interesting work to do. Every day our contacts with France grew better, and some of the resistance reports came to me, to be adapted for use in propaganda. I became deeply absorbed, excited by my work, and it was perhaps because of the excitement of my task that I felt less need for a personal emotional life than so many of the girls. Or perhaps I was only slower to develop, emotionally.
Jacqueline, doing the same sort of work, nevertheless was soon personally enmeshed. She was in an office next door to mine, for her chief. Lieutenant De Prade, was working on establishing more contacts with the resistance movement.
From the day when she had been assigned to his office, Jacqueline had told herself that she was fated, and that it was her fate always to be unlucky. For here she had discovered the man of her life. He was intelligent, elegant, cultivated, handsome, and they had the same tastes in everything. But he was married, and he adored his young wife and children, whom he had had to leave in France. Moreover, De Prade was a devout Catholic, and he treated Jacqueline like a young sister. Nevertheless, she was certain that he was desperately attracted to her.
As for De Prade, he struggled against Jacqueline's attraction with all his strength. He knew that she was in love with him, but he tried to persuade himself that this
Similar Books
