Chapter 6: Life in the Legion

I spent the best part of three years with 1RE at Quartier Vienot, Aubagne, and other than the final few weeks I enjoyed every moment. At first it was as I had feared; the place was redolent in spit and polish and tradition. One of the units of the 1st Foreign Regiment at Aubagne were The Pioneers of the French Foreign Legion (Les Pionniers de la Légion étrangère) a “Unit of Tradition.” The Legion’s Pionniers are bearded, wear buffalo leather aprons (tablier de buffle), carry polished axes on their shoulders, and march at the head of Foreign Legion detachments during ceremonial parade. In fact it was this elite unit Stefan, Albrecht and I were to join after our ‘apprenticeship’ in one of the two so-called ‘Ceremonial’ platoons.

Ferdi was posted to the Legion Museum Detachment. He had been a book binder in Armenia and there was a constant need of legionnaires trained in conservation of parchments, leather bound books and other materials that made up the Legion relics carefully preserved and on display in the Legion museum. Pride of place being the prosthetic wooden hand of Capitaine Jean Danjou.

Stefan, Albrecht and I had been chosen as trainee Pionniers because of our height, and in Stefan and Albrecht’s case their girth. Both were broad chested and burly. I was still putting on weight and muscle and was at least seven years younger than Stefan and probably five years younger than Albrecht. They laughed at me when we were told we would have to grow beards before we would be considered for the ‘Unit of Tradition’.

“It will take you the length of your first enlistment to raise a decent crop of whiskers, Professor,” Stefan said.

It would certainly take time before I had a beard worthy of Les Pionniers. My hair colour was medium brown that went several shades lighter during the summer. I was not a particularly hairy sort of male and would struggle to match the beards of Les Pionniers. Theirs were thick, bushy, black and bristly, and from what these hirsute Pionniers told us, were the sort of beards females love to have rubbing between their legs. Of course it would be some time, even with beards, before we newbies would be marching at the head of a parade with shouldered axes. We first had to learn the drills, and even how to tie a buffalo leather apron correctly. Those Pionniers in-waiting in the ceremonial platoon provided Legionnaires for formal parades; greeting visiting dignitaries, attending Bastille Day parades in Paris and other major cities in France, and Guards of Honour at funerals and, but not as often, weddings. We had to learn funeral drills; slow marching with reversed arms, resting on arms reversed, and presenting arms, besides firing volleys over the grave of the departed former legionnaire. We would be plied with plenty of food and drink, and offers of female company at burials and weddings. It seems females’ libido hormones are moved equally by both ceremonies.

Stefan, Albrecht, Ferdi and me had a number of courses to attend and pass before obtaining the rank of First Class Legionnaire (Legionnaire de 1re classe). The courses, including First Aid, map reading, driving, and radio procedure, were held at Aubagne. Later in my service I attended other courses at bases in various parts of France.

In between our Pionnier training, attending courses, and other military duties we continued with our gymnasium work and would be called out at a moment’s notice for 20 km -20 kilo runs with our platoon, together with the Les Pionniers, the Museum Detachment, and the 3rd Foreign Construction Company (3ème Compagnie de Construction Etrangère (3CCE) that failed wannabe Pionniers were posted to. As Sergeant Zysk had told me when I first enlisted, and as we were frequently reminded at Quartier Vienot, ‘all legionnaires are infantrymen ‘ and all members of the First Foreign Regiment kept their infantry skills honed between carrying out their other duties.

The Legion has a history of construction; Legionnaires, like their Roman forebears, built roads and forts throughout North Africa. 3 CCE, only a few years after arriving from Sidi Bel Abbès, had turned what had once been an abandoned and derelict military camp on the outskirts of Aubagne into Quartier Vienot, the HQ of The Foreign Legion. It was they who had dismantled the huge memorial to the Legion’s dead – ‘Monument aux Morts’, first unveiled in the Legion cemetery at Sidi Bel Abbès in 1931 – then conveyed the dismantled edifice to Quartier Vienot and re-erected what became the magnificent back drop to the most important ceremony of the French Foreign Legion; the celebration of Cameron Day on 30^th August.

Three months after arriving at 1RE the newbies from Corsica were deemed presentable, polished, and drilled well enough to do guard duties. There were two types of guards at Quartier Vienot. One type was a prowler guard, dressed in combat clothing and patrolling the perimeter fence, both inside and out. At night the guards wore camouflage cream and spent hours laying up in concealed hides, good training for night action, although it would have been a very stupid criminal to attempt to break in on a camp housing legionnaires.

The other type of guard was ceremonial. Like the Garde Républicaine at the Élysée Palace they were there mainly for show and were dressed in Legionnaire full parade regalia of white kepi + chin strap, almond-green(a shade of white) Summer Dress short sleeved shirt with green shoulder boards and red epaulettes, trousers TDF( Terre de France, i.e. Home Service wear), blue sash + military belt, and standard black combat boots. In Winter Dress a long sleeved shirt would be worn, with a green necktie, under an almond-green jacket TDF.

The Changing of the Legion Guard is a must see on all tourists’ itineraries and even some Aubagne inhabitants would attend the ceremony. The public are allowed into Quartier Vienot at certain times on certain days but of course they are confined to the parade ground and museum area. The ceremony is photographed by all the tourists. Pretty girls would pose as near as possible to a Legionnaire guard to have their photograph taken, some would surreptitiously pass their details; name, telephone number, or name of the bar where they could be contacted, to the grateful guard. Consequently there was a great deal of fraternising between young, and not so young, women and off duty legionnaires who had caught the eye of a susceptible female. Those bars and cafes that catered mainly to legionnaires were havens of available female flesh, and it wasn’t long before us new additions to 1RE found our way to those bars and eventually into the arms, and bodies, of the girls therein.

Ferdi Azarian had accompanied me on our first few ventures to these palaces of fleshy pleasure but he was rather prudish when it came to the opposite sex. I think he might have been a virgin until the night after the White Kepi March at Corte where I spied him under a voluptuous trollop who was busily devouring his face. At the Striking Cobra night club in Aubagne, where hordes of receptive females were panting to be swept off their feet and onto their backs by randy legionnaires, Ferdi appeared uneasy and frightened. Terrified might be a more accurate description.

“Get stuck in,” I said, pushing him towards a blonde with most of her bosom on display who was licking her lips at the thought of groin to groin combat with him; although slightly built Ferdi was quite a dapper fellow and many mature female wanted to scoop him up and carry him off to their boudoirs. Unfortunately Ferdi had a high moral threshold when it came to sex, a virtue not present in many legionnaires, or indeed in many males.

“I do not want to dishonour their families by having carnal knowledge of these girls,” he said.

“But you screwed, had carnal knowledge of, that fat whore in Corte.”

“Yes, but she was a prostitute who had already dishonoured her family. These girls are not whores. I expect the girl I marry to be intact, a virgin. If I take the virginity of one of these girls and did not marry her I would be both dishonourable and disrespectful to her family.”

It seems Armenia, or at least the part Ferdi lived, was still in the Middle Ages.

“These girls are not virgins, Ferdi. The only dishonourable thing you could do to one of them would be impregnate her. But if you wear an English hood, a condom, there will be no dishonour,” ‘or pox’, I thought.

I could see him considering the idea and pressed on with my quest to have Ferdi get his leg over (an Alfie Hinds expression meaning sexual intercourse). “Legionnaires are not allowed to marry. If you don’t have sexual relations before you marry, and the earliest would be when you leave the legion after completing your five year term of enlistment, your virgin bride will be disappointed if you do not know how to please her when you conjoin in the marital bed.” I now had his full attention and continued. “Do you have skiing in Armenia?”

“Yes, we have many fine ski runs.”

“Well, sex is like skiing. Before you attempt the piste you have to train on the nursery slopes. Think of these girls as the nursery slopes. But instead of waxing your skis before poling down their slippery slopes slip on an English hood!”

I left him considering my advice as a tall redheaded girl had caught my eye, and I quickly grabbed her before she caught any one else’s eye. She wasn’t a true redhead but apart from that disappointment we spent a very pleasant two hours in feverish carnal contact. I didn’t see Ferdi until next morning in the mess hall. He looked tired but triumphant.

“Annabel was a very good ski instructor,” he said. “I will be meeting her parents tomorrow.” He saw the look of shock on my face and laughed. “Got you there, Philippe.”

Actually, Ferdi did meet a girl, not in one the bars of Aubagne but in the Public Library and from that time on I saw him less and less, although we did attend a driving course together, by which time he was in love and had decided to marry the girl. Jeannette was a plain, plump, quiet, sort of girl who I imagined was a virgin and would probably remain so until her wedding night. I doubted the lessons Ferdi’s learned on the nursery slope of the Striking Cobra would still be useable five years’ hence.

“You won’t be able to marry Jeannette until you’ve completed your five years of service and have left the legion,” I said.

He shook his head. “No, I will be eligible for French citizenship in three years. Jeanette’s father will sponsor me, and when I’m a French citizen I will be able to resign from the legion and marry Jeannette.”

i didn’t think the Legion allowed resignations but assumed he knew more about that side of things than I did. “What will you do when you leave the legion, assuming they will allow you to resign?” I asked.

“I’m a book binder. There are plenty of books in the Public Library that need rebinding!”

Our platoon commander, Sous-Lieutenant Bazarin, was not long out of the Military Academy of St Cyr. He was green but keen, and he would evolve into a first class officer as he had the sense to take advice from our platoon sergeant Sergent-chef Schumann. The same could not be said for our company commander, Capitaine Hercule de Bergerac Frossard, who had joined 1RE only six months before I had and made it clear he was looking for promotion and a position at Fontainebleau with OTAN (Organisation du Traité de l’Atlantique Nord, or NATO as it more widely known). That was one of the drawbacks of the Foreign Legion. The SNCOs and junior officers were good but the more senior commissioned ranks tended to flit in and out of the Legion as they worked their way up the command ladder. Fortunately 1RE’s commander was Commandant Ulrich Vadas who had been promoted from the ranks and had been a legionnaire for twenty five years, five of them as an Adjudant-chef, an equivalent rank to Master Sergeant in the US Army or Regimental Sergeant Major in the British Army (NATO grade OR 9).

Here are some more comparative ranks

Caporal = Lance Corporal (UK) ;PFC (US)

Caporal-chef = Corporal (UK &US)

Sergent = Sergeant (UK&US)

Sergent-chef = Staff Sergeant (UK &US)

Adjutant = Company Sergeant Major (UK);Sergeant First Class (US)

Adjudant-chef = Regimental Sergeant Major(UK); Master Sergeant (US)

Sous-Lieutenant = Second Lieutenant(UK&US)

Lieutenant = Lieutenant (UK); First Lieutenant(US)

Capitaine = Captain (UK&US)

Commandant = Major (UK&US)

I will continue the use the Legion rank names but readers are free to substitute their rank of choice. I apologise that I have not given the equivalent ranks in other armies

I had served two years at Aubagne with 1RE and was now a Legionnaire 1^st Class and a member of Les Pionniers. Although my beard was not as luxurious as some of my fellow pioneers – Stefan Januszewaki’s was a real beauty – I can confirm that ladies do enjoy having a bristly beard rubbing their private parts before any insertion takes place. In fact one girl to whom I was giving the beard rubbing treatment orgasmed during the proceedings and it took me an hour to get all trace of her juices from my beard.

As long as I kept my nose, beard, and equipment clean and didn’t turn up on parade drunk or fornicate with the daughter, wife, or horse of the Colonel commanding Quartier Vienot I was assured of promotion to Caporal by the end of three years’ service.

It was Capitaine Hercule de Bergerac Frossard who was the unwitting catalyst that had me questioning my future in the legion, plus suffering a great deal of emotional and physical pain besides. My path to near perdition began innocently enough with a ‘request’ from Capitaine de Bergerac Frossard for me and Stefan to be attendants at a dinner party he was giving at his home. He required two uniformed Pionniers to act as security and general all-purpose muscle at his soirée. He had chosen Stefan and me as we were the newest additions to Les Pionniers and did not have the years of service or experience of the other members of the Unit of Tradition. A contemptuous look of scorn would have probably been their response to his ‘request’.