C'EST LA GUERRE (30)

This peace, this stillness,.. It would be a good time to read the report about "the famous case of the lost drafts".

First of all, I must add one more setback in this crazy story of the drafts of my forgetfulness: I had left it forgotten at the caravan (ma roulotte..) accidentally, on the TBM seat, where I was entertaining on to dig in the blink of an eye, a mile of trenches,... Admirable! For this machine, dig trenches and advance are almost the same thing: a very solid military concept. Although TBM is on the back. Also the machine can to cover again the trench with the same ground... A great concept in Economics..! Wonderful machines..! Moreover, in case of danger, it can excavate a tunnel obliquely through which to escape from inside the trailer through the tunnel-trench newly constructed. Soon after, the wonderful caravan self-destructs.

 I shall comment to my girlfriend this coincidence by mistakes: she the drafts, I, the report ...And before all, I put by error the drafts inside the letter sent to her. What forgetfulness of mine...!

Returning to the subject, fortunately, my secretary, so intelligent, so efficient, so goddess-lieutenant, and so beautiful, carried out the necessary arrangements for the location and recovery of the tiny report sent to me. I do not know how I can thank her for her beautiful efficiency, her fulfillment for work in optimism before the success in her management: entrust her a job, gives me the feeling that I did what I had to do.

She had to investigate the five trains assigned to transport service of the dismantled caravan and at the end, the envelope was found on the train which among other things, transported the caravan TBM.

So it's time. I will read at last, what happened to the drafts.

After I reading the report, the summary is as follows:

As we know, the waiter picked up the five drafts in the grip of anti-dung beetles and without wasting anything else, he delivered it to the more next military checkpoint. Which was a modest control of a secondary road served by a corporal and four soldiers.

These five men had a tent in which they lived. It was also the office where they gave way to what was official: a table, some chairs, a filing cabinet and little else. A soldier deposited at the table the just given out drafts by the honest waiter, and it stayed there for a while.

Soon, another soldier had a physiological and physical urgency and finding no toilet paper, looked around the tent for some useful paper. He saw the drafts on the table with its bad looking, wrinkled, filled with strange writing, anything that would not make it appear that they were: an important material for the field marshal, military governor of the country. With one slap, driven by the urgency, the soldier took four of the five major "documents",  with the intention to give it a last usefulness although they seemed pretty little clean and appropriate for the mission that he will give them a minute later, in a short distance from the tent-checkpoint .

The next morning, before the change of guard, the caporal processed the only document found on his desk. And we know what happened next. The Military High Command sent me this draft and the other drafts, I hope that the nature and the degradation processes have been done away with altogether.

I hope that out the reach of anti-dung beetles that swarm all over this country.

More harm than good, I consider the matter is resolved and clarified.