William Elmer Bachman, The Delta of the Triple Elevens
“ It was on a tick of straw, thrown on the floor of the old dilapidated, vacated house, that one hundred of the battery spent their nights of sleep in Montmorillon while the other half occupied similar beds on the upper-lofts of the barn.There were no formations the morning after arrival. The battery men spent most of the time about town. It was strange to observe the peasantry hobbling along in their wooden shoes, the flopping of the loose footwear at the heels beating a rhythmic clap, clap on the cobblestone pave.Each day brought new scenes of peasant life. ”
