C'EST LA GUERRE (39)

J'avais dessiné sur le sable,
son doux visage qui me souriait.

or

¡.. cuando calienta el sol, allá en la playaaaa...!

...  Whatever it is I have inside my head these two songs, (no much military, indeed) as long as I lie under the sun. Sometimes one, sometimes the other, these old songs do not leave quiet my brain.

We see some escorts which approaching out with trays for lunch from the escort vehicles. We are soldiers with other necessities than food or furniture as the victory for the peace. It will be only what is called a light snack.

 A corporal, followed by three soldiers carried things for lunch, plus folding camping furniture. It is our neat and spartan lifestyle. Moreover, the seaside is still excellent opening my appetite, as when I was a child... when to go to the beach was to be swimming and playing with sand "desperately", jumping, screaming, running, digging, even shivering under the bath towel .. and mourn because we were not allowed to go into the water again after eating. A constant physical activity and the freshness of the water, were a healthy infant wear of calories. Now an adult, I do not move so much

I seem to detect the corporal´s nervousness;  on the one hand, Lieutenant naked (in my opinion miss universal army) that causes some reactions similar to those I already took a while repressing it and it is also clear that the corporal is something fearful to appear before me, his paramount chief for all purposes more or less. It's as if I saw him with two distinct nervousness.

The soldiers seemed more relaxed since they can concentrate on the objects they carry. After salute and explanatory formula by the corporal, I make a signal to the lieutenant to lead the installation of all what they brought us. Finally, I grant them permission to retire and then I see a very well set table, at least for my taste austere and essentially military. Everything under a vast umbrella painted with camouflage colors that make it invisible to enemy aircraft; a cute table for two persons.

— Lieutenant, if you would be so kind... —  I say offering her one chair  as invitation to take seat. Once seated the Lieutenant, I went to my chair singing:

et j'ai crié, crié, aline, pour qu'elle revienne,
 et j'ai pleuré, pleuré, oh! j'avais trop de peine.

Almost unconsciously I get this song which really is not very appropriate for that cheerful, pleasant, almost happy situation in which we were. The lieutenant laughed surprised by my chant and I saw that not all is repressible.

— Does not matter, lieutenant — I tell her — Things about the beach and music as association of ideas. As minor tendencies to absurd which ....

— It has been a nice distension, sir. Really a very famous song of love and solitude on the beach, though rather sad — she replied.

— True, Lieutenant. I am glad that despite my intonation you was able to identify the song.

— It was easy, sir. And clever, sir.

— Thank you, Lieutenant. You can ask me any song that you want so there not will be problems for to identify the song before my play...  I guess — I said her continuing on fun.