THE BATTLE OF FRANCE
The Model Village
A cantonment is as good as the officer that
organizes it. Here was a French village, like all
other French villages; call it, if you will, Berville.
Its church is graceful and venerable, its farms severe
and commonplace, its fields well-cultivated, its roads
difficult, its inhabitants hard working and a little
mistrustful. But a squadron of the Royal Air Force,
commanded by a man that loves his job, has just
installed itself and suddenly the village has been
transformed, magically, into a Dickensian setting.
Almost all the men of the squadron come from
p------. There they have their favourite pubs and
they had hoped to find them once again at Berville.
One of them has cut out floating ensigns in the
English manner, and another painted them in red
and gold on a black ground. And now they decorate
the three cafes, lend them an air of gaiety that they
had never had. In a barn that has been lent them,
ingenious soldiers have put up a bar, a club-room,
and a stage. They have installed electric light, a
loud-speaker, and large stoves. The sergeant's mess,
hung with cretonne and decorated with posters,
looks like the hall of a little Stratford-on-Avon
hotel.
And as for the officers, they have found 'some-
where in France' for their dining room wicker
armchairs: little table-lamps with vivid shades
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