Chapter 2: Welcome to Camp Barnett

Authors Note: Rome wasn't built in a day, or so I keep telling myself when I get stuck on writing these chapters down. But hey, nobody's perfect; least of all me. I just hope this chapter is good enough to make up for my rather prolonged absence. Moving on, as a reminder: The world of Qui Ose Gagne is markedly different from our own especially in terms of technology, culture, politics, and historical events with the major splits from our timeline occurring almost entirely throughout the last two centuries. However, I will endeavor to make sure that this story will be as authentic as possible even as we explore more of the alternate history and speculative elements.

A few remaining notes: First; in addition to publishing this new chapter, I modified the previous chapter as well. Mostly this consisted of expanding some portions, fixing stuff I missed before I published it, and other minor details so be sure to check that out as well. Second; the next chapter will have a time skip going halfway into Ezra, Tristan, and Jai's basic training as I'm really not interested in ripping off Full Metal Jacket or Starship Troopers, no matter how tempting that would be. If you're interested in learning more about what the fictional French Marine basic training is like, I strongly recommend reading the encyclopedia entries included at the bottom of this chapter. Third, I'm giving up on any pretense of maintaining a clear writing schedule because, as you can clearly see by now, it's an effort in futility for me and I'll be starting classes again within a few weeks so I don't know how much free time I'll have. Now that all that is out of the way, enjoy the story!


Dramatis Personae

Recrue Ezra Michel Bellanger (Ezra Bridger)- Andorran-born French Marine recruit. Born January 11th, 1918; Andorra La Vella.

Sabine Danielle Renoir (Sabine Wren)- French Vietnamese museum curator and budding artist. Born December 21st, 1917; Bayonne, France.

Recrue Tristan Emmanuel Renoir (Tristan Wren)- Brother of Sabine, French Marine recruit. Born on December 21st, 1917; Bayonne, France

Tuyến Huong "L'Ours" Renoir nee Phan- Sabine and Tristan's mother, head nurse at the Bayonne Hospital. Thanks to her fierce reputation with unruly patients and doctors during her wartime experience as a nurse in the Vietnamese Army Nurse Corps during WWI, she has more than earned her nickname; "L'Ours" or "The Bear". Born February 2nd, 1890; Haiphong, Vietnam

Alrich Emmanuel Renoir- Father of Sabine and Tristan, famous Artist and Professor of Art History at the University of Bayonne (fictional university). Served in the French Army infantry during the Great War. Born April 24th, 1891; Le Havre, France.

Recrue Jacques-Guy 'Jai' Cellier (Jai Kell)- French Marine recruit. Born March 1st, 1919; Saint-Lô, France


Bayonne, France

June 2nd, 1936

The cool oceanic breeze felt wonderful as it swept its way upstream of the Adour river and over the Pont Saint Espirit bridge. Sabine stopped at the middle span and took a moment to take in the familiar sights; the hilltop citadel on the north of the river, the twin spires of the Cathedral of St. Marie, the Town Hall, she could even see part of the Musée Bonnat where she works. Sucking in a breath of the fresh Atlantic air, Sabine let out a sigh and smiled. It was great to finally be home.

She thought about the past week as she continued to walk to her house on the Avenue Marechal Murat. Acquiring the Seurat paintings for the Musée Bonnat was probably the greatest of her achievements in her burgeoning career in the arts so far. Perhaps their acquisition would encourage more patrons to donate part of their personal collections one day, maybe even fund an expansion someday.

"Wouldn't that be grand?" Sabine laughed to herself. Putting it out of her mind for the time being, Sabine's thoughts moved onto Ezra, the man from the train. Never before had Sabine ever see a man make such a fool of himself. Sabine was almost certain that had he not forced himself to stop talking, Ezra would've given himself a stroke. Despite that, there was something almost endearing about his nervous reaction to seeing her for the first time.

And though he wouldn't know it, Ezra's guileless first impression still worked. It definitely wasn't the worst first impression someone's made to her. Besides if he actually tried anything stupid, she would've had him writhing on the ground in pain before he even knew what just happened. Regardless, Sabine found the man attractive and hoped that he'd take the hint and actually try to keep in touch.

It took Sabine slightly longer for her to return home than she intended, having decided to take a detour into the Old City to buy a bottle of Malbec red from one of the wine merchants. After all, with her good fortune lately, Sabine was in the mood for celebrating it with her family. With the Malbec now in her possession, she continued on her way home.

The Renoir residence was relatively upscale for her neighborhood. Surrounded entirely by hedgerows and trees, the grounds were quite cozy. The house itself was a rather large three-story dwelling done in the typical architecture of the French Basque country with pathways on both sides leading to the backyard, pool, and garden. As a concession to Sabine's mother, the house had some Vietnamese touches that made it slightly stand out such as the pale yellow that much of the house was painted in, or the Vietnamese style front gate that greeted guests as they came on the property. It was this gate that greeted Sabine's eyes and brought a smile to her face as she rounded the bend to her street. She was home.

As she entered her home she could detect the warm scent of spices in the air indicating that someone was busily working away in the kitchen. Setting all but the bottle of wine down she called out to whoever was listening "Xin Chao! Is anyone home?" A short clatter came from the kitchen before a tall, bearded man of nearly fifty appeared in the doorway of the dining room. "Papa!" Sabine shouted before pouncing on her father, wrapping him in a warm embrace.

Alrich smiled down at the young woman. "Welcome home my little phénix. How was your trip? Were you successful?" Sabine smile beamed up at him, telling him all he needed to know. Alrich's face lit up with pride as he picked up his daughter and spun her around with glee. "You have no idea how proud I am of you! When will they arrive?"

"Monsieur Dantes has assured me that they'll be in the museum's possession by the end of next month."

"Bon," Alrich replied, "In that case I think your mother and I would like to celebrate this occasion."

"Already thought of that," Sabine said as she pulled the bottle of Malbec from her travel bag and handed it to her father. Alrich just smiled and lightly ruffled his daughter's dark brown hair. "Speaking of which, where is she and Tristan?"

Alrich answered her question as he continued his efforts in the kitchen. "Your mother should be finishing her shift at the hospital in an hour or two, while your brother should be on his way home from his work at the police station. Now, run along, you've had a long day today, try and get some rest. I'll let you know when dinner is ready."

"Thanks, papa." Sabine said before quietly retreating to her room on the second floor.


Later…

As Sabine continued to unpack her bags she heard a knock come from the door behind her. "Come in!"she called out. As the door opened Sabine turned around to greet the person who came in. "Why, hello there, baby brother."

The happy familiar look on Tristan's face quickly fell into withering glare at his sister. "I thought I asked you to stop calling me that. You're only older than me by a few minutes." The façade of annoyance didn't last long, as Tristan's smile returned as he pulled his sister into a quick hug. "Welcome home, Sabine. Father told me you were successful. Sounds like you've been putting those business and art history degrees to good use; not that I had any doubts about it. You always were the smart and clever one."
Though Tristan still wore a smile on his face, Sabine knew something was wrong with her twin brother. "Tristan, you're hiding something what's wrong?"

Her brother paced about the room for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and answering. "I'm planning on enlisting Sabine. Mom and Dad don't know yet. Now before you ask, I didn't lose my job or anything like that. My lieutenant, Navarre, was the one who brought it up. He thought I'd better reach my potential in the military rather than wasting my talents as a simple police guardian of the peace, collecting drunks and delinquents." Tristan sat down on Sabine's bed with his head in his hands. "I just don't know how I'm going to break it to them."

Sabine took her brother's hand in hers before sitting down next to them. "Tristan, I'm sure if you're honest with them it'll be fine. Dad might be a little upset at first, but I'm sure he'll come around." Sabine slowly coaxed him to his feet. "Come on, father should almost be finished with dinner."

Despite his father's cooking, Sabine's good news and the wine she brought home to celebrate, Tristan still felt as guarded as he did when on his beat. Unfortunately for him, his mother was quick to notice. "Tristan, you seem unsettled," Tuyến spoke.

'Shit,' Tristan thought. 'Well it's now or never.' Tristan set his silverware down and rested his clasped hands on the table. "Actually there's something I need to tell you guys." He quickly swallowed the lump in his throat, "I'm leaving the police force." The dining room quickly grew silent.

"You're doing what?" His mother's voice grew stern. "The Bear" had emerged and it wanted answers.

Tristan spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Lt. Navarre and I had a talk the other day and he felt that my talents were being wasted in the municipal police. He recommended that my abilities would be better put to work in military service instead of chasing after misdemeanors. And I'm inclined to agree with him, I was planning on going to go to the recruiting office tomorrow morning to enlist with the Marines. However, I didn't want to do anything before I talked to you and Dad."

Tuyến groaned and put her head in her hands. "I knew it was only a matter of time. You weren't exactly happy with your job were you?" Tristan said nothing, but it was obvious the answer was "Yes." "You're a grown man Tristan, you don't need our permission. But we appreciate your candor regardless. You have my blessing." Tuyến turned to her husband. "Alrich?" she asked.

Alrich said nothing then got up and walked out of the dining room. He took a left turn down the hallway and towards his study. Upon entering he quickly searched for his pipe, matches and tobacco pouch, feeling the sudden urge to smoke. He couldn't have believed what he was hearing just then. His son, wanting to join the military? Why would he possibly want to do that? Alrich had already lost so many people in his life to the military, his own almost joining the list; why could Tristan possibly want the same. Alrich's line of thought continued to spiral downwards until he swore he was hearing the sounds of artillery, guns firing, and the screaming of his wounded squad mates as he continued to struggle to light his pipe. 'Why won't the damn thing light?' His mind cleared as soon as he felt someone wrap their arms around the front of his neck and draped them over his chest.

"Alrich, my love, are you all right?" Alrich jumped, then turned around to see his wife standing in the doorway. "Sabine and Tristan are cleaning up, so I decided to check in on you. I was worried, I hadn't seen that look on your face in years. It was the same look you had that one Bastille Day when you were reliving what happened at Verdun." Alrich continued to stay silent, but Tuyến's fears were confirmed. "Alrich, I'm worried about Tristan too, but I'm sure he will be fine. Much as he thinks otherwise, he has a good head on his shoulders and he knows how to use it."

Alrich extinguished his pipe and sat it down on the desk. "I know, I just can't help but remember the promise I made the day they were born. After how difficult Tristan's birth was I remember just holding this baby boy in my arms swearing that I'd never let any harm come to either of them. Right now I feel like I'm failing him."

Tuyến held him dearly kissing away the tears that were starting to form in his eyes. "Alrich, I remember hearing the promise you made to them. You did not fail him, this was his choice. Like it or not we can't take that away from him. Now come on, let's head off to bed. We have an early morning tomorrow." Tuyến held out her hand waiting for her husband to accept. Instead Alrich pulled her into his arms and brought his lips to hers.

"I love you mon petit Ours, and I'm sorry for running out of there earlier. I'll talk to Tristan tomorrow morning before he leaves. I don't want him to leave thinking that I resent him for his choice."

"I'm sure he knows my big, strong Poilu. But I agree he'll feel better knowing you support his decision. Now come along it's getting late."


Meanwhile, in another part of the city...

The government offices had closed by the time, Ezra arrived into town. Luckily for him, Ezra had brought enough money with him to find himself some lodgings for the night. After finishing his dinner at the local inn, Ezra took a moment to sit down at the desk in his room and write a letter to his parents.

"Dear Mom and Dad,

I write this with the assurance that I've entered France safe and sound and, with luck, I should be reporting to Camp Barnett by weeks end. France is more beautiful than I possibly could've imagined. This city, Bayonne, actually reminds me of when we'd visit our cousins in Pamplona all those years ago. The train ride here was also surprisingly pleasant. In fact, you could say I made a new friend. By chance I happened to share my coach with a young woman who does curator work at the local art museum. To my surprise we got along well enough that she gave me her address with the encouragement to write her. Fancy that! I don't know whether I should do so or not, but for some reason I have a good feeling about this. So rest assured knowing that I've reached my destination healthy and in good spirits.

It might be a few days before you hear from me again as I won't know how soon I'll be able to write again. But when I do I'll be sure to include an address by which you can reach me. I love you, and I hope I'll be able to make you both proud.

Your loving son,

Ezra"

The letter finished, Ezra sealed it inside an envelope leaving it on the desk until it could be mailed in the morning. With nothing left to do until the next day, Ezra took to his bed and slept.


The Next Morning...

Sabine woke to find her brother downstairs in the parlor, his bags packed, having a cup of coffee with their father. 'Evidently they've already patched things up. Thank goodness Mom talked with Papa last night. I don't think, I'd ever seen him that upset before." Sabine waited until their current conversation ended before making her presence known. "Good morning Papa, good morning Tristan."

Tristan looked up to her and smiled, "Good morning Sabine I was just saying my goodbyes to father. I've already said goodbye to mother. All who's left to say goodbye is you I guess."

Alrich excused himself to go make breakfast for himself and Sabine, leaving the twins to say their goodbyes. "So, how'd Mom take it?" Sabine asked curiously. Their mother, though they loved her as they loved their father, was never one for displays of emotion.

"She actually surprised me," Tristan said. "Though she tried to remain stoic as usual, I could tell she was trying not to cry."

"What about Papa?"

"Whatever mom said to him worked, so I guess you were right." Tristan's eyebrows knitted quickly in thought, "Still, I get the feeling that he hasn't completely come to terms with me joining up. I guess the shock hasn't completely worn off. What about you, think you'll survive without my presence?"

"Ha, I've been waiting for something like this for years. Actually, I was thinking about transforming your room into my own personal art studio. But I'll still leave a bed for you in case you come here on leave."

"Ha, ha, very funny. But seriously, I want your honest opinion: Do you think I'm making the right decision?"

The question hung heavy over their heads as Sabine pondered it. Tristan, despite his short service in the Bayonne municipal police, had already shown a strong inclination to the order, discipline, and leadership that one would expect from soldiers. But that was during peace time. How, Sabine wondered, would he fare under combat conditions. She didn't have an answer to that, but she had faith in him nonetheless. And that would be her answer; "I don't know if you're doing the right thing or not, Tristan. However I do know what kind of man you are, and I have faith in you. I also know that I'm proud to say that I'm your twin sister, and that you'll work your hardest to live up to that. Good luck, little brother."

That evidently was the write answer because Tristan stood up with a newfound confidence in his stance. He was going to be okay, Sabine thought to herself. A few minutes later Tristan would say his last goodbye for a while to his father and sister. And as Tristan walked out the gate and headed towards the government offices Sabine swore she could hear her father whispering a silent prayer for Tristan's protection.


Government Offices

Bayonne, France

June 3rd, 1936

It wasn't hard for Ezra to find the military recruitment center after he set out the next morning. It was a rather large building designed in the Beaux-Arts style, a stark contrast to the Basque styled houses and public buildings surrounding it. Ezra found it a bit extravagant for his tastes but put those thoughts aside as he went into the main entrance. The inside of the recruitment center was a flurry of activity as prospective recruits, military personnel, doctors, and civilian government workers shifted from one place to another in order to accomplish whatever task they've been given. Following the signs in the lobby Ezra made his way to the Corps des Marine recruiting station.

Sitting at the main desk of the recruiting office was a marine staff sergeant dressed in the beige service uniform of the marines with the golden-yellow epaulets of the infantry adorning his shoulders. The marine paid no notice to Ezra as he entered the room, instead speaking to the young man in front of him. For Ezra there was something familiar about the other recruit's face but he couldn't place what it was. Before he could dwell on it any further, Ezra found himself directly in front of the recruiting sergeant.

"Name and identification?" Ezra quickly produced his papers and gave the sergeant his name. The sergeant without showing much interest quickly scanned his papers before writing down what information he gleaned from them into a file that would, presumably, go on to the War Department. When he was finished the sergeant returned his attention to Ezra and gave him a set of forms. "Take these forms, head down that hallway, fill the forms in, and wait until the doc calls you in. He'll send you back to me when he's done."

After nearly two hours of physical and aptitude exams and filling out forms for a multitude of reasons ranging from insurance to preferred military occupation, Ezra found himself back in front of the Staff Sergeant. "Well aside from being damn stupid enough to volunteer for the Airborne, there seems to be nothing wrong with you that would keep you from serving." The staff sergeant got up from his chair Ezra's papers in his hands. "Well that means we've only a few things left to do." Turning to the other two men in the office he called to them "Corporal Sérurier, Corporal Poitier, would you come over here please."

"Aye Staff Sergeant!" The two corporals responded quickly as they stood at attention next to the Staff Sergeants desk.

"Coporal Sérurier, Corporal Poitier, can you certify that this recruit has completed the entrance process to regulation's satisfaction?" The two corporals examined the documents before them carefully before answering in the affirmative. "Outstanding, just leave your witness signatures then you can return as you were." The corporals signed off where told before quickly dutifully shuffling back to the tasks they were assigned. "Alright recruit, report to the Citadel just across the river they'll hold you there until tomorrow morning when the next bus to Camp Barnett arrives. Good luck recruit, you're damn well going to need it."


Camp Barnett

June 4th, 1936

The next morning came quickly as Ezra found himself arriving to Camp Barnett. As the bus came to a stop a man stepped on to the bus and started issuing orders to the men inside. "Alright recruits, get off the bus and line up exactly on the yellow footprints outside. You are to stand at attention until you are dismissed. Now move all of you!" Ezra and the others shuffled onto the hot asphalt just outside. The yellow footprints spoken of were arranged in eight block of four-hundred and eighty identical pairs with both feet pointing outward at a forty-five degree angle on both sides. When all the recruits reached their spot on the block the collection of officers and non-coms in front of them stepped onto the platform on the opposite side of the tarmac.

"RECRUE! ATTENTION!" One of the non-coms called out as the nearly one-hundred fifty strong recruits snapped into position.

With the recruits attention now firmly fixed to the men on the platform, a captain in full service uniform approached the tannoy microphone. "Recruits, consider this to be your last day as civilians. From now on you are property of the Marine Corps and the République. But, make no mistake, you are not marines; you have not yet earned the right to that title and until then you will referred to only by your name and the title 'Recruit'. It is the responsibility of the men behind me to train you up to ensure that you become the very fighting men worthy of the title of 'Marine'. By this September, I hope to see each and every one of you graduating from your training as Marines of the French Republic, do not let me down. Welcome to Camp Barnett! Sergeant Major! You are free administer the oath of enlistment."

The captain stepped down from the platform as the Sergeant Major took his place. "Recruits! Raise your right hands and repeat after me. I-"

Ezra voice was indistinguishable from the dozens of other men around him, yet he still gave the same oath with pride "I, Ezra Bellanger, swear to serve, with honor and fidelity, for the good of the service and the success of the arms of France.I swear to be faithful to the nation and the Republic, and to maintain freedom and equality for all of its citizens, even at the cost of my own life. And in service to those ideals, I swear that I will obey the orders of the President of the Republic and the orders of the officers appointed over me according to the regulations and the National Code of Military Justice." As he and the others finished the sergeant major directed the remaining eight NCOs to take each platoon sized group and take them to the barber, supply depot, and armory to finish their processing.

By the time they entered the barracks at the end of the night, all the men were squared away. Each man now had their own uniform, rifle, and equipment. More distressing to some of them however was the fact that many of them were now missing their hair. Ezra only gave an amused chuckle though as he sat on his cot and rubbed his almost completely naked scalp. He took a moment to look around at some of the men in the barracks room, before spotting a familiar face. It was the same Asian man who enlisted before him yesterday talking to tan-skinned kid who looked just slightly younger than Ezra. With nothing better to do Ezra decided to introduce himself to them, 'Who knows? I could use some buddies here,' he thought.

As he approached them, the tanned man turned to acknowledge his presence. "It's been a hell of a day hasn't it? Name's Jacques-Guy Cellier, but you can call me Jai."

In similar fashion the Asian man also introduced himself, "Tristan Renoir."

Ezra shook both of their hands as he responded. "Pleasure to meet you guys, my name's Ezra Bellanger. But yeah, it's been a hell of a day. And from what the men back home told me before I left it doesn't get any easier. So where are you guys from and what brought you here?"

Tristan answered first: "I was a police officer back in Bayonne. I wasn't really getting anywhere in that job, so I decided to shift gears. Thinking about maybe volunteering in that new Parachute Infantry program they're starting up in Pau when our basic training is up."

Ezra reacted with surprise. "No kidding, I put down Parachute Infantry as well when I was enlisting at the recruitment office back in Bayonne."

"I thought you looked familiar, anyway looks like we'll be working together for quite a while, eh?" Tristan replied. "So what about you Jai? What's your story."

"Eh I grew up with my uncle's family in Lorient; my ma died during the Spanish Flu epidemic and my father bought it at St. Mihiel fighting along side the Yanks. Getting back to my uncle, he used to be a Marine until he was discharged after losing his leg at Gallipoli. Still, even crippled, the old man was a tough as steel and saltier than the sea. I owe him my life and by joining the Corps I hope to honor his efforts. As for my department I was thinking of going regular infantry like most of these other guys I was talking to, but I might also do the Parachute Infantry program as well. Hell, who knows? We just might all make it through, might even impress the hell out of the ladies on leave when it's all said and done."

Tristan and Ezra both laughed at that. But before they could finish the conversation the sergeant who led them through processing returned. It was time for light's out. Each recruit, including Ezra returned to their bunks and pulled themselves under the covers. Once the headcount was finished, the sergeant and his assisting corporal turned the lights off covering the barrack's room in darkness. Ezra had a feeling that tomorrow would be hectic, however he put those thoughts aside and closed his eyes. The last thing that flickered through his mind as sleep took him were the Captain's words from earlier: "Welcome to Camp Barnett!"


Encyclopedia Entries (A/N: All entries are entirely fictional. Please do not send me angry PMs about me making stuff up, as that's the point of World building.

Camp Barnett- Officially known as Centre d'entraînment d'Marine Barnett, Camp Barnett (named for the 12th Commandant of the United States Marine Corps, Major General George Barnett) was originally established in late 1916 as a mustering camp for the US 1st Marine Division when they first arrived in France during the Great War. Today it is now the second largest marine training facility in France after Camp Villeneuve near Marseilles. Despite efforts by the Ministère de la Marine to change the name of the training facility during the late 2000s, the original was kept after an official protest was lodged by a number of groups and persons ranging from the City of Bayonne Historical Society to Commandant James Mattis of the United States Marine Corps.

FCDM Basic Training: As a result of the Franco-American Gallieni-Barnett Marine Corps reforms of the late 1900s, French Marine's training strongly resembles that of their American counterparts. French Marine Corps training is a 13-week program divided into a "Receiving Week" and four "Phases." Receiving Week is the Marine Recruit's brutal introduction to the realities of military life: it is here where they receive their equipment, uniform, and medical examinations and take their initial fitness test. At the end of Receiving Week recruits meet their company commanders and their drill sergeants for the remainder of their training. Phase One follows with the next four weeks consisting of training in close-order drill, hand-to-hand, weapons handling and safety, maritime survival, and chemical warfare survival; education in the history of Corps de Marines and it's predecessors, its culture, its ranks and insignia, protocol, and other basic knowledge needed for military life; and finally Physical Training regimens that will increase in intensity for the remainder of their Training. Phase Two starts with a brief reprieve from the intense training of the last four weeks where recruits are introduced to some of the more mundane administrative aspects of their enlistment followed by two weeks of marksmanship training. Phase Three consists of basic combat and field training and the final examinations before graduation. Following graduation (Phase Four), the Marines are sent off to their new assigned units or on to further training depending on their specific occupation (e.g. ETAP Airborne Infantry Training at Pau).