I finally got my letter. Just like men used to get drafted, I received a letter from the French army and a train ticket telling me what time to show up at the train station in the city nearest my house.
Once I arrive at the base, who knows what will happen to me. They'll start filling my brain with all kinds of images of glory. Bullets, mortars, and glorious near-fatal wounds. I suppose the officers must do all they can to recruit us.
Hopefully I'll be strong and just comply with their tests and their questioning and return home asap. I wonder, should I purposefully fail the test? Will they be used against me? In times of war, will they look back on my results to send me on suicide missions? Make me an officer? Would it be safest to play the illiterate French kid?
I guess I'll have to decide when I get there. All I know is that I'm glad this will only take a day. How did guys do it, when the draft lasted a year? Or a whole war? I hope the food is good.
No comments:
Post a Comment