Lori, the big blacksmith of St. Mary-O-Mina[2], was very unhappy that evening.
Normally, as soon as the fire in the forge was extinguished and the sun had set, he would sit on the bench in front of the door, savor the pleasant fatigue of the heavy labor and the heat, and he would join the apprentices before sending them away, watching the workshop workers get off work and sipping a few large sips of cold beer. But that evening the good old man stayed in the blacksmith's shop until supper, and seemed to come out to eat with great reluctance. Aunt Lori looked at her husband and thought:
"What's wrong with him? Did you receive some bad news from the troops, but you didn't want to tell me? Probably the eldest son is sick......
But she didn't dare to ask anything, just busy quieting her three young children. The three children, all with blond hair like burnt ears of wheat, gathered around the table and laughed and ate a large pot of creamy black radish salad.
Finally, the blacksmith angrily pushed the plate aside:
“啊，无赖！啊，流氓！......”
"I say, who are you mad at, Lori?"
He roared angrily:
"I'm mad at those five or six weirdos! I've seen them walking around the city in French soldiers' uniforms with the Bavarians since early this morning...... And some of them are still ...... How do you say that? I chose to become a Prussian citizen...... Every day, these fake Alsatians can be seen returning to their homeland...... What kind of ecstasy did the Prussians make them drink?"[3]
The child's mother tried to defend them:
"What do you want, my poor man? It's not entirely the children's fault...... They were sent to Algeria, Africa, so far away...... There they will miss their homeland, and the temptation to go home and not to serve in the army is too great for them. ”
Lori slammed his fist on the table:
"Shut up, old mother...... What do you women know? All you know is that you spend all your days with children, and everything revolves around them, and over time, you see everything as the size of children...... Well, I can tell you that these people are scoundrels, traitors, scum. If Christian of our family had the misfortune to do such a vile thing, I would have pierced him with a sabre, just as my name was George Lowry, and I had been a French hussar for seven years!"
The blacksmith stood up half-solemnly, and pointed to the long cavalry saber hanging on the wall, above which was a portrait of his son, painted in Africa, of a soldier of Zoaf: his son had the face of an honest Alsatian, tanned by the sun, and the vivid colors made the picture somewhat pale and blurry in the strong sunlight. As soon as he saw this portrait, the blacksmith immediately fell silent and said with a smile:
"Why am I so excited...... As if our Christian really wanted to be a Prussian, he killed so many Prussians on the battlefield......"
Thinking of this, the good old man was in a good mood again, and he finished his supper happily, and then immediately went to the Tavern of Strass Castle to drink beer.
Now only Aunt Lori is left. She laid down the three blonde children, and listened to them babble in the next room like a nest of birds before bedtime, and picked up a needle and thread, and did the sewing work in the garden in front of the door. Every now and then she sighed and said to herself:
"Well, I agree. They are cowards, traitors...... But it's all the same! Their mother will be happy to see them again. ”
She remembered the time before her son joined the army, when he tended to the small garden at this time every day. She looked at the well, where her son filled the watering can, in a smock, and had beautiful long hair, which had been cut off when he was in the Zoaf regiment......
Suddenly, she felt a jolt. The small door at the end of the garden to the field was opened. The dog didn't bark, but the man who opened the door and came in walked through the middle of the beehive like a thief, clinging to the wall......
"Hello, Mom!"
Her Christian stood right in front of her, his untidy uniform, his face ashamed, uneasy, and speechless. The poor boy had returned with the other soldiers, and he had been wandering around his house for more than an hour, waiting until his father had gone out before daring to come in. She wanted to scold him, but she didn't have the courage. She hadn't seen him or kissed him for a long time, all the more for the good reason he had returned: he missed his homeland, he missed the blacksmith's shop, he was tired of being away from his family, and the discipline of the troops was getting stricter day by day, and his companions called him "Prussian" because of his Alsatian accent. She believed everything he said. She just looked at him and believed it. As they spoke, they walked into the ground floor room. The children were woken up, barefoot and in their pajamas, running over to kiss their big brother. Mom wanted to cook for him, but he wasn't hungry. He was only thirsty, always thirsty, and he had been drinking several rounds of beer and white wine in the tavern since this morning, and he was still gulping down water.
At this time, footsteps were heard in the courtyard. It's the blacksmith who has returned.
"Christian, your dad is back, hide quickly, let me tell him first, explain to him......"
As she spoke, she pushed him behind the tall glazed pottery stove, and then began sewing again with trembling hands. Unfortunately, Zoaf's little yarke had been forgotten on the table, and Lori saw it as soon as he entered. I saw my mother's pale face and cramped expression again...... He understood it all at once.
"Christian is back......" his voice was terrifying.
Like a madman, he took his saber from the wall and rushed to the stove, behind which was huddled the bloodless Zoaf soldiers, who were completely conscious, and leaned against the wall for fear of falling.
The mother threw herself between the two of them:
"Lori, Lori, don't kill him...... I wrote to him to come back, and I said that your blacksmith needs his help......"
She grabbed his arm tightly, dragged him, and sobbed. In the dark room, the children heard the voice full of anger and tears, and they began to cry one by one, because the voice had become so unfamiliar that they could not recognize it. The blacksmith stopped, looked at his wife and said:
"Ahh......h Alright then, let him go to sleep. We'll see what to do tomorrow. ”
The next day, when Christian spent a night full of unprovoked nightmares and fear, he woke up from a deep sleep to find himself lying in his childhood room. Outside the small glass window, framed with lead bars and reflecting blooming hops, the sun was already high. Downstairs came the sound of hammers hitting anvils...... Mom stayed by the pillow, and she didn't leave all night, because her husband's anger worried her. The old blacksmith didn't sleep all night. He paced in the room, weeping, sighing, opening the door and closing it until dawn. Now he came to his son's room, looking serious and dressed as if he were going to travel far: high shin guards, a wide hat, and sturdy trekking poles with iron at the top. He went straight to the bedside and said:
"All right, get up...... Get up!" the child was a little confused, and he wanted to put on the uniform of the Zoaf soldiers.
"No, don't wear this ......," said the father solemnly.
The mother replied wistfully:
"But, my dear, he has no other clothes. ”
"Give him my clothes...... I don't need them anymore. ”
As the child dressed, Lori carefully folded his uniform—a short shirt and wide red trousers—and when the package was finished, he hung a tin box containing road strips around his neck......
"Now let's go downstairs. He continued.
The three of them went downstairs in silence and came to the blacksmith's shop...... The bellows were panting, and everyone was working. When Zoaf re-saw the open shed, which had made him think so much about his troops, he couldn't help but think of his childhood, where he had spent long years on the hot roads, in the sparks of the blacksmith's shop, and in the dark of coal dust. He felt a sudden warmth and hoped for his father's forgiveness, but whenever he raised his eyes, he saw his father's merciless gaze.
Finally, the blacksmith decided to speak.
"Son," he said, "the anvil and other tools are here...... It's all yours...... And all that!" he said, standing in the blackened frame of the door, pointing to the small garden: the door in the depths of the garden was open, the sun was shining, and the bees were flying...... "The beehive, the grapes, the house, all this is yours...... Since you can sacrifice your honor for them, you can at least take care of them...... Now you're the master here...... And I'm leaving...... You owe France five years, and I will pay it on your behalf. ”
"Lori, Lori, where are you going?" cried the poor mother.
"Daddy......" pleaded the son.
But the blacksmith was gone, and he strode without even looking back......
At the 3rd Regiment of the Zoaf Regiment in Sidi Belle Abbas[4], a 55-year-old volunteer had been added a few days ago.
Notes
[1] The Zoaf soldiers were light infantry formed by France in colonial Algeria in 1830, initially composed of Algerians, and from 1841 onwards all French.
[2] A French town located in the northeastern province of the Rhine.
[3] During the Franco-Prussian War, the Prussian army released Alsatian soldiers captured by the French army back to their places of origin, claiming that they had been freed.
[4] The name of the city, located in the north of Algeria.
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