The Martian, journal publié par les soldats américains de l'Hôpital de Mars-sur-Allier , item 12

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THE MARTIAN

Hommes - 36-40

Chevaux - 8

Vol. 1 - No. 19   SUNDAY, December 29, 1918  Price: 30 centimes

----

OUR FRIENDS THE ANNAMITES

 Drawing of Asian soldiers 

 Column one 

They are not exactly incongruous figures

in our muddy roads, these little grinning Annamites brought half the way around the world to France, for they look indigenous to the mud. You half expect to see them barefooted and barelegged, wading around in rice fields. Yet they are the most striking and by all means the most picturesque of all the nationalities who have contributed to the construction and maintenance of this Hospital Center.

  The doughboy calls them "Chinks," claps them on the back in friendly wise so that they almost shiver to pieces or possibly assists them a bit in their acquisition of the language known as "Profane," and passes on. Of course, they are not Chinese at all. They are natives of Annam in Indo-China, with a language, customs, traditions and history all of their own.

  Late in 1914 and in the years since France realized that her citizens and subjects of all races and climes must share in her effort, they were brought from their tropical homes. It is estimated that there are probably a quarter of a million of these little brown brothers of the French now in the "mother" country. Roughly nine hundred are in Mars Center. They are organized in companies and regiments, officered by their own non-coms and French commanders. Their pay is a pittance, yet their tough, wiry strength is responsible for the completion of many of our most distasteful jobs.

  Our ally, the Annamite, is particular about only one article of his wearing apparel - his hat. It must be the squat, conical, button-finished headpiece that every child knows from his picture books belonging to the Far East. As for the rest, almost anything will do. Many of them wear the light blue uniform of the French poilu. But in any aggregation of them, you can find American khaki, the cast off garments of the Russians who formerly helped the Engineers, and a dozen other varieties of uniforms. Uniformity is of absolutely no consideration, provided only he is clothed in a uniform. It is no unusual sight to see him in the brilliantly 

 Column two 

red, baggy, trousers of a bygone generation of the Foreign Legion. Where he finds them all is only less mysterious than how he manages to keep clean in spite of the dirty, muddy work he has to perform.

  You may meet a company of them on the Center roads almost any night after retreat. If the day has been rainy, as it usually is at present, every man of them will be mud-spattered from head to foot, and their shoes will be encrusted with that same substance which practically makes every resident of Mars an amphibian. They return to their barracks in one corner of the Center, have supper and sing their queer, monotoned, nasal chants until nine o'clock or thereabouts and go to sleep. Next morning, they march back to work but the mud on their clothes has disappeared. How it has been accomplished is a puzzle that none of the Americans has been able to solve or imitate. They are as cleanly in their habits , their kitchens, their sleeping quarters as any New England housewife might ask. That is, with one exception. American example has failed to impress them with the desireability of the tooth brush. Years of beetel-nut chewing or some other narcotic vice of the Orient, have blackened

Column three

their teeth beyond redemption and their smiles are not prepossessing. They have a distinct sense of humor and so their teeth are very much in evidence most of the time. It is the one disagreeable feature of these pleasant, industrious little chaps.

  When the Annamites came, the French villagers viewed the new arrivals with some alarm. They knew in a vague sort of way that Annam was a French possession somewhere in the Antipodes, but was a vast difference in having them some thousands of miles comfortably distant. Their fears were totally unfounded, for the little brown chaps have made less trouble than any of the other strangers who were so unceremoniously dumped upon them. The Annamite is a strictly temperate little person, he is not obstrusive and he makes his few purchases as quietly and quickly as possible. He is scarcely a figure in the villages, is never guilty of brawling, - in fact he is quite a model of the civic virtues.

  The Americans have been good to the little fellows, and patients, personnel and the "Chinks" have become very good friends, as far as possible via the sign language and pidgin French. Since the early days of the hospital, the little Annamite laborer has shared in all the food stuffs that have come into the camp, and he is at least as well nourished as at home. Ask any of them who understand French, their opinion of the Yankee and he answers, "American soldat beaucoup bon." It is expressive if not very good French. One of the Americans incharge of a gang of them at work somewhere on a new sewer was politely approached by a little fellow, and by dint of much motioning of the hands, had the news conveyed to him that a photograph was requested. The American was of course surprised and not a little amused. More motions elicited the information that the Annamite wanted to show his people at home what an American looked like, particularly an American who had been good to him.

(Continued on page 2)

Transcription saved

THE MARTIAN

Hommes - 36-40

Chevaux - 8

Vol. 1 - No. 19   SUNDAY, December 29, 1918  Price: 30 centimes

----

OUR FRIENDS THE ANNAMITES

 Drawing of Asian soldiers 

 Column one 

They are not exactly incongruous figures

in our muddy roads, these little grinning Annamites brought half the way around the world to France, for they look indigenous to the mud. You half expect to see them barefooted and barelegged, wading around in rice fields. Yet they are the most striking and by all means the most picturesque of all the nationalities who have contributed to the construction and maintenance of this Hospital Center.

  The doughboy calls them "Chinks," claps them on the back in friendly wise so that they almost shiver to pieces or possibly assists them a bit in their acquisition of the language known as "Profane," and passes on. Of course, they are not Chinese at all. They are natives of Annam in Indo-China, with a language, customs, traditions and history all of their own.

  Late in 1914 and in the years since France realized that her citizens and subjects of all races and climes must share in her effort, they were brought from their tropical homes. It is estimated that there are probably a quarter of a million of these little brown brothers of the French now in the "mother" country. Roughly nine hundred are in Mars Center. They are organized in companies and regiments, officered by their own non-coms and French commanders. Their pay is a pittance, yet their tough, wiry strength is responsible for the completion of many of our most distasteful jobs.

  Our ally, the Annamite, is particular about only one article of his wearing apparel - his hat. It must be the squat, conical, button-finished headpiece that every child knows from his picture books belonging to the Far East. As for the rest, almost anything will do. Many of them wear the light blue uniform of the French poilu. But in any aggregation of them, you can find American khaki, the cast off garments of the Russians who formerly helped the Engineers, and a dozen other varieties of uniforms. Uniformity is of absolutely no consideration, provided only he is clothed in a uniform. It is no unusual sight to see him in the brilliantly 

 Column two 

red, baggy, trousers of a bygone generation of the Foreign Legion. Where he finds them all is only less mysterious than how he manages to keep clean in spite of the dirty, muddy work he has to perform.

  You may meet a company of them on the Center roads almost any night after retreat. If the day has been rainy, as it usually is at present, every man of them will be mud-spattered from head to foot, and their shoes will be encrusted with that same substance which practically makes every resident of Mars an amphibian. They return to their barracks in one corner of the Center, have supper and sing their queer, monotoned, nasal chants until nine o'clock or thereabouts and go to sleep. Next morning, they march back to work but the mud on their clothes has disappeared. How it has been accomplished is a puzzle that none of the Americans has been able to solve or imitate. They are as cleanly in their habits , their kitchens, their sleeping quarters as any New England housewife might ask. That is, with one exception. American example has failed to impress them with the desireability of the tooth brush. Years of beetel-nut chewing or some other narcotic vice of the Orient, have blackened

Column three

their teeth beyond redemption and their smiles are not prepossessing. They have a distinct sense of humor and so their teeth are very much in evidence most of the time. It is the one disagreeable feature of these pleasant, industrious little chaps.

  When the Annamites came, the French villagers viewed the new arrivals with some alarm. They knew in a vague sort of way that Annam was a French possession somewhere in the Antipodes, but was a vast difference in having them some thousands of miles comfortably distant. Their fears were totally unfounded, for the little brown chaps have made less trouble than any of the other strangers who were so unceremoniously dumped upon them. The Annamite is a strictly temperate little person, he is not obstrusive and he makes his few purchases as quietly and quickly as possible. He is scarcely a figure in the villages, is never guilty of brawling, - in fact he is quite a model of the civic virtues.

  The Americans have been good to the little fellows, and patients, personnel and the "Chinks" have become very good friends, as far as possible via the sign language and pidgin French. Since the early days of the hospital, the little Annamite laborer has shared in all the food stuffs that have come into the camp, and he is at least as well nourished as at home. Ask any of them who understand French, their opinion of the Yankee and he answers, "American soldat beaucoup bon." It is expressive if not very good French. One of the Americans incharge of a gang of them at work somewhere on a new sewer was politely approached by a little fellow, and by dint of much motioning of the hands, had the news conveyed to him that a photograph was requested. The American was of course surprised and not a little amused. More motions elicited the information that the Annamite wanted to show his people at home what an American looked like, particularly an American who had been good to him.

(Continued on page 2)


Transcription history
  • November 1, 2018 12:05:16 Sara Fresi

    THE MARTIAN

    Hommes - 36-40

    Chevaux - 8

    Vol. 1 - No. 19   SUNDAY, December 29, 1918  Price: 30 centimes

    ----

    OUR FRIENDS THE ANNAMITES

     Drawing of Asian soldiers 

     Column one 

    They are not exactly incongruous figures

    in our muddy roads, these little grinning Annamites brought half the way around the world to France, for they look indigenous to the mud. You half expect to see them barefooted and barelegged, wading around in rice fields. Yet they are the most striking and by all means the most picturesque of all the nationalities who have contributed to the construction and maintenance of this Hospital Center.

      The doughboy calls them "Chinks," claps them on the back in friendly wise so that they almost shiver to pieces or possibly assists them a bit in their acquisition of the language known as "Profane," and passes on. Of course, they are not Chinese at all. They are natives of Annam in Indo-China, with a language, customs, traditions and history all of their own.

      Late in 1914 and in the years since France realized that her citizens and subjects of all races and climes must share in her effort, they were brought from their tropical homes. It is estimated that there are probably a quarter of a million of these little brown brothers of the French now in the "mother" country. Roughly nine hundred are in Mars Center. They are organized in companies and regiments, officered by their own non-coms and French commanders. Their pay is a pittance, yet their tough, wiry strength is responsible for the completion of many of our most distasteful jobs.

      Our ally, the Annamite, is particular about only one article of his wearing apparel - his hat. It must be the squat, conical, button-finished headpiece that every child knows from his picture books belonging to the Far East. As for the rest, almost anything will do. Many of them wear the light blue uniform of the French poilu. But in any aggregation of them, you can find American khaki, the cast off garments of the Russians who formerly helped the Engineers, and a dozen other varieties of uniforms. Uniformity is of absolutely no consideration, provided only he is clothed in a uniform. It is no unusual sight to see him in the brilliantly 

     Column two 

    red, baggy, trousers of a bygone generation of the Foreign Legion. Where he finds them all is only less mysterious than how he manages to keep clean in spite of the dirty, muddy work he has to perform.

      You may meet a company of them on the Center roads almost any night after retreat. If the day has been rainy, as it usually is at present, every man of them will be mud-spattered from head to foot, and their shoes will be encrusted with that same substance which practically makes every resident of Mars an amphibian. They return to their barracks in one corner of the Center, have supper and sing their queer, monotoned, nasal chants until nine o'clock or thereabouts and go to sleep. Next morning, they march back to work but the mud on their clothes has disappeared. How it has been accomplished is a puzzle that none of the Americans has been able to solve or imitate. They are as cleanly in their habits , their kitchens, their sleeping quarters as any New England housewife might ask. That is, with one exception. American example has failed to impress them with the desireability of the tooth brush. Years of beetel-nut chewing or some other narcotic vice of the Orient, have blackened

    Column three

    their teeth beyond redemption and their smiles are not prepossessing. They have a distinct sense of humor and so their teeth are very much in evidence most of the time. It is the one disagreeable feature of these pleasant, industrious little chaps.

      When the Annamites came, the French villagers viewed the new arrivals with some alarm. They knew in a vague sort of way that Annam was a French possession somewhere in the Antipodes, but was a vast difference in having them some thousands of miles comfortably distant. Their fears were totally unfounded, for the little brown chaps have made less trouble than any of the other strangers who were so unceremoniously dumped upon them. The Annamite is a strictly temperate little person, he is not obstrusive and he makes his few purchases as quietly and quickly as possible. He is scarcely a figure in the villages, is never guilty of brawling, - in fact he is quite a model of the civic virtues.

      The Americans have been good to the little fellows, and patients, personnel and the "Chinks" have become very good friends, as far as possible via the sign language and pidgin French. Since the early days of the hospital, the little Annamite laborer has shared in all the food stuffs that have come into the camp, and he is at least as well nourished as at home. Ask any of them who understand French, their opinion of the Yankee and he answers, "American soldat beaucoup bon." It is expressive if not very good French. One of the Americans incharge of a gang of them at work somewhere on a new sewer was politely approached by a little fellow, and by dint of much motioning of the hands, had the news conveyed to him that a photograph was requested. The American was of course surprised and not a little amused. More motions elicited the information that the Annamite wanted to show his people at home what an American looked like, particularly an American who had been good to him.

    (Continued on page 2)

  • November 1, 2018 12:05:09 Sara Fresi
  • November 9, 2017 22:34:04 Thomas A. Lingner

    THE MARTIAN

    Hommes - 36-40

    Chevaux - 8

    Vol. 1 - No. 19   SUNDAY, December 29, 1918  Price: 30 centimes

    ----

    OUR FRIENDS THE ANNAMITES

     Drawing of Asian soldiers 

     Column one 

    They are not exactly incongruous figures

    in our muddy roads, these little grinning Annamites brought half the way around the world to France, for they look indigenous to the mud. You half expect to see them barefooted and barelegged, wading around in rice fields. Yet they are the most striking and by all means the most picturesque of all the nationalities who have contributed to the construction and maintenance of this Hospital Center.

      The doughboy calls them "Chinks," claps them on the back in friendly wise so that they almost shiver to pieces or possibly assists them a bit in their acquisition of the language known as "Profane," and passes on. Of course, they are not Chinese at all. They are natives of Annam in Indo-China, with a language, customs, traditions and history all of their own.

      Late in 1914 and in the years since France realized that her citizens and subjects of all races and climes must share in her effort, they were brought from their tropical homes. It is estimated that there are probably a quarter of a million of these little brown brothers of the French now in the "mother" country. Roughly nine hundred are in Mars Center. They are organized in companies and regiments, officered by their own non-coms and French commanders. Their pay is a pittance, yet their tough, wiry strength is responsible for the completion of many of our most distasteful jobs.

      Our ally, the Annamite, is particular about only one article of his wearing apparel - his hat. It must be the squat, conical, button-finished headpiece that every child knows from his picture books belonging to the Far East. As for the rest, almost anything will do. Many of them wear the light blue uniform of the French poilu. But in any aggregation of them, you can find American khaki, the cast off garments of the Russians who formerly helped the Engineers, and a dozen other varieties of uniforms. Uniformity is of absolutely no consideration, provided only he is clothed in a uniform. It is no unusual sight to see him in the brilliantly 

     Column two 

    red, baggy, trousers of a bygone generation of the Foreign Legion. Where he finds them all is only less mysterious than how he manages to keep clean in spite of the dirty, muddy work he has to perform.

      You may meet a company of them on the Center roads almost any night after retreat. If the day has been rainy, as it usually is at present, every man of them will be mud-spattered from head to foot, and their shoes will be encrusted with that same substance which practically makes every resident of Mars an amphibian. They return to their barracks in one corner of the Center, have supper and sing their queer, monotoned, nasal chants until nine o'clock or thereabouts and go to sleep. Next morning, they march back to work but the mud on their clothes has disappeared. How it has been accomplished is a puzzle that none of the Americans has been able to solve or imitate. They are as cleanly in their habits , their kitchens, their sleeping quarters as any New England housewife might ask. That is, with one exception. American example has failed to impress them with the desireability of the tooth brush. Years of beetel-nut chewing or some other narcotic vice of the Orient, have blackened

    Column three

    their teeth beyond redemption and their smiles are not prepossessing. They have a distinct sense of humor and so their teeth are very much in evidence most of the time. It is the one disagreeable feature of these pleasant, industrious little chaps.

      When the Annamites came, the French villagers viewed the new arrivals with some alarm. They knew in a vague sort of way that Annam was a French possession somewhere in the Antipodes, but was a vast difference in having them some thousands of miles comfortably distant. Their fears were totally unfounded, for the little brown chaps have made less trouble than any of the other strangers who were so unceremoniously dumped upon them. The Annamite is a strictly temperate little person, he is not obstrusive and he makes his few purchases as quietly and quickly as possible. He is scarcely a figure in the villages, is never guilty of brawling, - in fact he is quite a model of the civic virtues.

      The Americans have been good to the little fellows, and patients, personnel and the "Chinks" have become very good friends, as far as possible via the sign language and pidgin French. Since the early days of the hospital, the little Annamite laborer has shared in all the food stuffs that have come into the camp, and he is at least as well nourished as at home. Ask any of them who understand French, their opinion of the Yankee and he answers, "American soldat beaucoup bon." It is expressive if not very good French. One of the Americans incharge of a gang of them at work somewhere on a new sewer was politely approached by a little fellow, and by dint of much motioning of the hands, had the news conveyed to him that a photograph was requested. The American was of course surprised and not a little amused. More motions elicited the information that the Annamite wanted to show his people at home what an American looked like, particularly an American who had been good to him.

    (Continued on page 2)


  • November 9, 2017 22:22:49 Thomas A. Lingner

    THE MARTIAN

    Hommes - 36-40

    Chevaux - 8

    Vol. 1 - No. 19   SUNDAY, December 29, 1918  Price: 30 centimes

    ----

    OUR FRIENDS THE ANNAMITES

     Drawing of Asian soldiers 

     Column one 

    They are not exactly incongruous figures

    in our muddy roads, these little grinning Annamites brought half the way around the world to France, for they look indigenous to the mud. You half expect to see them barefooted and barelegged, wading around in rice fields. Yet they are the most striking and by all means the most picturesque of all the nationalities who have contributed to the construction and maintenance of this Hospital Center.

      The doughboy calls them "Chinks," claps them on the back in friendly wise so that they almost shiver to pieces or possibly assists them a bit in their acquisition of the language known as "Profane," and passes on. Of course, they are not Chinese at all. They are natives of Annam in Indo-China, with a language, customs, traditions and history all of their own.

      Late in 1914 and in the years since France realized that her citizens and subjects of all races and climes must share in her effort, they were brought from their tropical homes. It is estimated that there are probably a quarter of a million of these little brown brothers of the French now in the "mother" country. Roughly nine hundred are in Mars Center. They are organized in companies and regiments, officered by their own non-coms and French commanders. Their pay is a pittance, yet their tough, wiry strength is responsible for the completion of many of our most distasteful jobs.

      Our ally, the Annamite, is particular about only one article of his wearing apparel - his hat. It must be the squat, conical, button-finished headpiece that every child knows from his picture books belonging to the Far East. As for the rest, almost anything will do. Many of them wear the light blue uniform of the French poilu. But in any aggregation of them, you can find American khaki, the cast off garments of the Russians who formerly helped the Engineers, and a dozen other varieties of uniforms. Uniformity is of absolutely no consideration, provided only he is clothed in a uniform. It is no unusual sight to see him in the brilliantly 

     Column two 



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  • 46.85599792463026||3.0879743000000417||

    Mars-sur-Allier

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ID
13708 / 140111
Source
http://europeana1914-1918.eu/...
Contributor
Médiathèque municipale Jean Jaurès de Nevers
License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/


December 29, 1918
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