Madame Pommerie and the Corporal

WWI short story

The village of Westouter in Belgium has a small post office, a baker's shop, a dusty bar and not much else. It sits on a flat plain with only the occasional slag heap from old disused coal mines to break the view. A motorway was built a few miles north of Westouter in the 1960s which effectively diverted any passing traffic, and today it is rare for anyone to travel there except for business or the purpose of visiting relatives or unless they're lost. There are no attractions either natural or man-made and it is a one street place where nothing much ever happens.

The last event of any great note was the billeting on the population of 150 British soldiers who operated a supply dump stocked with building materials on the outskirts of the village during the first world war. It sprang up almost overnight during the summer of 1915 and remained in place until the spring of 1919 when it was dismantled and disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.

The smooth running of the village at that time was jointly overseen by the mayor, Monsieur Andre Broue, a veteran of the 1870 Franco-Prussian war with a respendant moustache to prove it, who had also been a barber's assistant in London for a time before returning to Belgium to cultivate potatoes. And a British Billeting Officer, a Captain by the name of William Dade. M Broue and Capt Dade worked well together, possibly helped by the mayors excellent grasp of English. This enabled any misunderstandings to be quickly dealt with.

By the summer of 1917 Westouter was not a bad place to pass the war. It was far enough from the front line to be relatively safe, with only the occasional stray shell from a long range gun to disturb the peace. The men worked what was practically a nine to five job and the food from the field kitchen, while not varied was at least hot and regularly available. Some of the soldiers were billeted in private houses, while most were found accomodation in barns and storehouses. Capt Dade ensured that a fair price was paid to those that let out rooms, and M Broue ensured that claims for compensation from the local residents were kept at an acceptable level.
At the end of each day the two men would sit in Capt Dade's small office situated in the front room of an abandoned cottage and pass the evening discussing the day's events over a glass of whisky.

One morning Capt Dade was awoken from his slumbers by someone hammering loudly at the front door. He rose from his bed, pulled a greatcoat over his pyjamas and went to see who it was. Upon opening the door he was confronted by Mme Pommerie, a middle-aged widow of generous proportions who was the proprietress of the village 'estaminet' or bar. She appeared to be highly agitated and rushed past the captain into his office. Dade, who was not used to women rushing into his office before breakfast at first had the ridiculous thought that he was improperly dressed and looked around for his hat before following Mme Pommerie into the room. He had barely enough time to sit behind his desk before Madame launched into a vigorous diatribe against the British, her neighbours, the war and soldiers in general, at the end of which she announced that the estaminet would now be closed until further notice at which point she turned on her heel and marched back out of the door slamming it as she left. While poor Capt Dade had understood some of what Madame had said she had spoken so fast and with such fury that he had not caught all of it, and so when M Broue showed up an hour later the Captain asked if he would vist Mme Pommerie to establish exactly what was wrong.

When M Broue returned some time later he brought bad news back with him for Madame alleged that one of her most regular customers, a good looking young soldier who was the unit sanitary corporal had committed a crime against her person of a most serious nature. The corporal, who's duties while neither heroic nor spectacular were nevertheless important, would attend to his work each morning and by lunchtime would have finished his labours and after washing himself would spend as much of the rest of the day as money and Madame allowed sipping 'caffee avec" - a bitter black coffee laced with rough brandy- in the estaminet. It appeared that the day before he had been able to afford more of this mixture than usual and emboldened with drink had, or at least had attempted to, ravish Madame. He had so far forgot himself and the respect due to a lady that he had embarked on this course without those preliminary attentions of flirting and veiled suggestions that would have given her some warning of what his intentions were. She was naturally outraged that such a thing should happen within a year of her late husband's tragic meeting with a 5.9 inch shell just outside of Verdun which had left both parties spread over a considerable distance. Both her honour and the respect for her late husband had been violated.

By lunchtime the scandal had gone round the village like wildfire and Capt Dade had a dilemma on his hands. Military law was quite definate as to the punishment given out to soldiers guilty of such a crime against civilian allies. A court martial would have to take place bringing with it much unwanted attention from higher command. After giving it some thought Dade suggested that if M Broue could explain to Madame Pommerie that the corporal had been drunk at the time then perhaps the matter could be dealt with in-house. M Broue was horrified at the thought and tugged at the corner of his moustache, a sure sign that once again the English had no idea of how to conduct things.
"It would be the worst possible course of action" he said. Far better to let Monsieur Broue himself go to see the injured party in order to talk to her and try to resolve the matter.

That evening M Broue called at the shuttered estiminet and met with Madame Pommerie in the back parlour. They sat and talked of many things; About the Billeting Officer, about the two girls both refugees from Bruges who helped Madame serve the drinks and cooked the omelettes that her customers bought, and the constant rumour that Canadian soldiers with their good manners and better pay would once again be billeted in the village, which would mean more money going into Madame's till.  Slowly M Broue guided the conversation around to the events of the previous night. "Poor Madame Pommerie" he said. "What a dreadful thing to happen to a woman of her character and high standing". He mentioned how shocked all of the neighbours had been, particularly the women (Although many had said they were not surprised and had seen it coming for a long time). "Such a terrible thing must be punished of course, for the honour of a Belgian woman is a sacred thing. And these things cannot be taken lightly. Although it is a pity that such a young, gallant fellow should die before a firing squad", for Monsieur Broue had studied British military law and knew that the penalty for such things would be death.

At this revelation Madame softened he stance a little and asked if perhaps a lesser punishment could be handed out, for although she had been wronged she was not a vindictive woman.
"Alas no" said M Broue, for he was somewhat of an expert on military law and was often called upon to advise the British themselves on matters of punishment. He was quite sure of the point. He also seemed to know a lot about the sanitary corporal, - that the man was the only child of his widowed mother, a God-fearing woman wracked with rheumatism whos only income was from cleaning the local church. She would obviously br heart-broken to hear of his execution. And after her son had been posted to Westouter as a reward for the time he had bayoneted four, or was it five of the filthy Bosch single handedly to save his unit from being over-run, why some said that it was a travesty that he hadn't recieved a medal for it!
Madame had no idea that he had been such a hero, she thought that he had spent the whole of his military career in the safe duties of sanitation - which indeed he had. She did not want to see the man killed, but still could see no other alternative than to allow military justice to take its course.

It was at this stage that M Broue, soldier, barber's assistant, grower of potatoes and now mayor of Westouter played his trump card.
"The incident was all most regretable" he said.
"But there was something to be said for the corporal's good taste. After-all Madame was known far and wide for her good looks and sweet nature. Who could be surprised that this gallant, brave, fearless young man should become so smitten with her. Not for him the attractions of the two young serving girls, those bold hussies who tempted the men with their course language and flirty ways; He had taken no notice of them. And had it not been that a few months ago the corporal had informed him in strict confidence that he had fallen in love with the beautiful proprietress of the estaminet upon first setting eyes on her. That of course was why he spent so much time there. Obviously his deep passion for her had built up until his need for her had so overwhelmed his senses that he had temporally lost control of his reason. So sad that one so young, so brave, so good looking should have to die like a dog because of the beauty of a woman, but c'est la guerre. Madame's honour must be vindicated".

The next day the estiminet reopened as usual and did a busy trade with many local people who had not frequented it before calling in to buy a small black coffee and swop some gossip. Madame Pommerie and the serving girls were there but the corporal was not, he was under local arrest in the barn that served as his billet.

Some weeks later Capt Dade signed the official form submitted by a local hoseholder allotting a certain room in a certain estaminet to a certain sanitary corporal.