Gautier D'Alsace

There are two potential points of conflict the new recruits tend to have with D'Alsace on first meeting. First, he is a pathological smoker. If one glances at the photograph of our indomitable band you can just glimpse in his left hand the dangling carcass of rolled tobacco. Far be it from me to criticise the habits of the addict, as we are all prone to satiating our inexplicable desires from time to time, and most of us are slaves to the flaming leaf (by that I mean tobacco and not the potentially misunderstood notion of a homosexual wood fairy which would be absurd). In this case D'Alsace happens to quite literally smoke at every moment.

On one saturatingly febrile day in late August of three eclipsed years I returned to our sleeping quarters after a late night of innocent beverage consumption and innocuous flirtations with the ladies of the night only to find Gautier asleep with a cigarette perched precariously between his wind cracked lips. By some will of the Gods he was still performing the motions of the smoker, lifting his right hand, clasping the knotted foliole between his weathered fore and middle finger, and sighing with such resignation as he exhaled his fiery breath of smoke and anger, that one expected his immediate deliquescence into the folds of his already sweat stained bunk.

The second point of contention for many new recruits in regard to Gautier D'Alsace, and friends, this is a far more sensitive area of discussion, and less open to the whims of forthright criticism, D'Alsace is a mute. A brilliant poet, but a mute.

In 1894 when Gautier was 7 years old he was known as the most eloquent orator in all of France, at least to his friends and family. He could rattle off diatribes of the most beautiful considerations with the ease of William the Conqueror's rout of Harold at the Battle of Hastings. However, inevitably his proclamations would take a heavy turn after the first few minutes and border on denouncements of the King, Country, and people. The audiences at first would be amazed that such a young child could manifest such commendable fervor, but as the initial wonder passed, people actually heard the words uttered by this contemptible whelp.

One asks, quite understandably, surely this did not lead to someone harming Gautier enough to cause his complete silence for the rest of his deplorable days. The answer: yes it did.

Isaac Lefebvre, was a blacksmith in the small town of Beaucaire, located in the Gard departement of Languedoc-Roussillon. This miniscule hamlet was the site of Gautier's conception, birth, early childhood, and infamous speeches of questionable intendment. It was Isaac who finally silenced the veritable Demosthenes of this French epoch.

In June of each year in the town of Beaucaire, the townsfolk have the quaint practice of recreating the mythical battle of the village against the terror of le Drac. Apparently in the year 1250 of our Lord (The Infantry's, not those bastards hanging over the throne) a lavendar seller was kidnapped from Beaucaire by the dreaded Drac. She was held for 7 years under the water, and upon her release her only gift from this hideous shape-shifting beast was the ability to recognise le Drac in public, as to all other humans his form was more often than not, entirely invisible.

One day le Drac appeared in the market square and the woman recognised his form, in response to her revelation her eyes were subsequently removed by le Drac, causing quite a stir among the people of Beaucaire as you can well imagine. Armies charged against le Drac, and all failed, decimated by his incomparable and inconceivable powers of demonic brilliance. It is said that le Drac still lives at the bottom of La Rhone, or has simply died of old age, alone, bitter, and sad.

In Beaucaire this ominous tale is recreated in a celebratory mood, perhaps to ward of future attacks from the terrifying darkness. Isaac Lefebvre had been called this year in 1894 to play le Drac, and Gautier had been called to play the woman, already proving himself to have a formidable public speaking voice with his declamatory orations and being one of the youngest boys in the town at that time. At the climactic moment of the reenactment as Gautier cried with intense emotion at the revealing of le Drac in the township, Isaac Lefebvre instead of throwing the prearranged mixture of strawberry jam and curdled milk (indicative of blood) at Gautier's face, decided to cut out his tongue. The townsfolk of Beaucaire weren't alarmed by the realistic nature of the blood and violence as each year the production crew of the festivities seemed to out do themselves in provided entertaining and credible realism. In fact one town member, Guillaume Martin, was less than impressed, immediately crying out "Tres Faux".

Gautier quite suddenly passed out. It was at this time when Isaac screamd "J'ai amorti la batard" that people began to realize perhaps everything was not in step with the delightful festivities they had anticipated.

Noone really knows what motivated Isaac, perhaps it was simply Gautier's words, or perhaps it was Gautier's innocently disarming charm, all we do know is Isaac's mysterious last words from prison "Il est le diable. Vous verrez. Et souffrir."

Regardless the result was bittersweet as it all set up Gautier to be a natural rebel. Joining the French legion and meeting us, The Infantry. But more on that at a later date.

. . . Once again, I have risked too much time with you.

More on Gautier D'Alsace when the time is ripe.

For now know this . . .