--"Who
did write it?"--"One of the Frenchmen attached to the section."--"What is
his name?"--"I'm sure I don't know," I answered; mentally swearing that,
whatever might happen to me the scribe should not suffer. "At my urgent
request," I added.
Relapsing into French, Monsieur asked me if I would have any hesitation
in dropping bombs on Germans? I said no, I wouldn't. And why did I
suppose I was fitted to become aviator? Because, I told him, I weighed
135 pounds and could drive any kind of auto or motorcycle. (I hoped he
would make me prove this assertion, in which case I promised myself that
I wouldn't stop till I got to Munich; but no.)
"Do you mean to say that my friend was not only trying to avoid serving
in the American Army but was contemplating treason as well?" I asked.
"Well, that would be it, would it not?" he answered coolly. Then, leaning
forward once more, he fired at me: "Why did you write to an official so
high?"
At this I laughed outright. "Because the excellent _sous-lieutenant_ who
translated when Mr. Lieutenant A. couldn't understand advised us to do
so."
Following up this _sortie_, I addressed the mustache: "Write this down in
the testimony--that I, here present, refuse utterly to believe that my
friend is not as sincere a lover of France and the French people as any
man living!--Tell him to write it," I commanded Noyon stonily.
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