Chapter 352: Pigeon Shooting
On Labor Day, May 1st, France also celebrates "Lily of the Valley Day." On this day, people exchange bouquets of "lily of the valley" with family and friends as a symbol of good luck.
(Note: The tradition of exchanging lilies of the valley on May 1st in France began in 1561 when King Charles IX of France received a sprig of the flower as a symbol of good fortune, and the practice spread throughout the country thereafter.)
For soldiers during the Great War, holidays were nothing but a fantasy.
All holidays during the war had nothing to do with the soldiers. Not only were there no breaks, but there were even more intense and brutal combat assignments.
This was the aftermath of the "Christmas Truce Incident."
Afterward, both the enemy and allied high commands feared that such an event might repeat during the holidays, so they would intentionally carry out heavy artillery bombardments or launch attacks to ensure the soldiers "kept their fighting spirit" and hated each other!
The 105th Infantry Regiment was spared from this disaster because they were stationed in Paris.
Though they too had no holidays, they received countless bouquets of lilies of the valley.
The flowers came in various colors: white, purple, blue, and more. The training base was adorned with little "bells," and the air was filled with a faint fragrance.
The lilies of the valley that Charles received were particularly extravagant. While others received a single bunch or handful, Charles had entire trucks full.
The reason was that the communications officers and service personnel simply couldn't keep up. They had to call on Laurent, who drove a car to collect them, shouting: "Gentlemen, please place the lilies for the Brigadier General onto the car; we will ensure they are delivered to him."
Soon, one truck couldn't hold them all, so they had to keep bringing in more and more.
At first, Adrian intended to move the flowers into the living room, but quickly realized that doing so would make it impossible to move around in the room. In the end, he had no choice but to line them up along both sides of the walkway in front of the office building.
Charles looked at the flowers with some helplessness. There were still many cards of well-wishes attached to them. If he were to read each one, it would take him a whole day.
Compared to all of this, Charles preferred dealing with telegrams or checking supply lists.
However, this morning, instead of staying in his office as usual, Charles took a leisurely walk toward the training ground with his bodyguard.
Charles considered it a kind of enjoyment—wearing his neat uniform, walking upright under the warm sunlight without worrying about enemy bullets or artillery.
"Bang!"
The gunshot startled Charles. He instinctively crouched down, and his bodyguard quickly stepped in front of him, raising his rifle.
During this time, the 105th Infantry Regiment had been training the front-line troops in gas masks and had not been doing much target practice.
Moreover, target shooting wouldn't be this sporadic.
"Bang! Bang!"
The gunshots rang out again, followed by cheers and applause from the soldiers.
Charles soon realized that the soldiers were likely participating in some kind of shooting competition.
Indeed, Adrian hurried over to check the situation and returned, excitedly calling out, "General, they're shooting pigeons! The contestants are the instructor and Shen Billy!"
"Shooting pigeons?" Charles asked, confused.
However, his interest soon shifted to the opponents in the competition.
The instructor Adrian mentioned was Dominique, whose marksmanship was as good as Shen Billy's. Charles was curious to see who would come out on top.
Walking toward the scene with his bodyguard, Charles saw that the wide shooting range was crowded with people. Dominique and Shen Billy were positioned at separate spots, both holding rifles and quietly aiming at the empty space in front of them.
Suddenly, two pigeons were released. The birds flapped their wings, trying to fly into the blue sky.
"Bang! Bang!"
Two shots rang out almost simultaneously, and both pigeons fell to the ground.
The soldiers erupted in cheers, some clenching their fists and shouting encouragement, while others waved their fists like gamblers signaling their bets.
Later, Charles learned that this wasn't just an ordinary competition, but rather a gambling game.
At that time in Europe and America, whether in the countryside or in cities, "pigeon shooting" betting was very popular, much like horse racing. They placed money on the shooter they thought would win.
(Authentic images may be hard to find due to the sport’s sensitive nature, but pigeon shooting was originally part of the Olympic shooting events. The early competitions involved live pigeons, which were later replaced by clay targets.)
"Bang! Bang!"
"Bang!"
The shots continued, and the final result was that Dominique, with 8 pigeons, narrowly lost to Shen Billy, who hit 9.
Both of them were exceptional. At a distance of over 200 meters, using a rifle, it was an impressive feat to hit 8 or 9 pigeons out of a total of 10. Only a true sharpshooter could accomplish this.
As the crowd dispersed, Dominique and Shen Billy shook hands and, exhausted, sat down on chairs by the side of the range, staring blankly at the target.
"What's wrong?" Charles approached and sat next to Dominique.
Dominique turned to see Charles and sighed, shaking his head. "I could have done better, but..."
"I know," Charles nodded.
"I don't understand why it happened," Dominique said, frustration evident in his eyes.
"I know," Charles repeated.
"You know?" Dominique asked, confused.
"Psychological strength, Dominique," Charles explained. "Your marksmanship is just as good as Shen Billy's. The issue is that Shen Billy is a hunter. His skills were honed by shooting kangaroos and even facing enemies on the battlefield."
Dominique instantly understood. "And me, I’ve mostly been shooting stationary targets. I hardly ever train with pigeons. I’m not used to this blood and killing!"
Charles nodded in agreement. He looked around briefly. "And there's the environment."
Dominique gave a slight nod of understanding.
The setting had indeed been a factor in his performance. Dominique was used to shooting indoors, but here, in the military camp, he was surrounded by rough soldiers with bloodthirsty eyes. This was Shen Billy's home ground.
Dominique muttered to himself, "So, I guess I need to train on the battlefield."
"You’re thinking that?" Charles asked.
Charles wasn’t surprised. The last time they had been at the Ritz hotel, when Dominique asked what it felt like to be on the battlefield, Charles had sensed that Dominique was considering a trial of war.
For someone who was obsessed with firearms and shooting, if he spent his whole life without truly testing his skills in real combat, and if his shooting was stagnating due to the lack of real-world experience, it was only natural that he would consider going to the battlefield to push his limits, even if he knew it was dangerous.
"Yes!" Dominique nodded, though uncertainty lingered in his eyes.
"You’re not suited for the battlefield," Charles stated firmly.
"No, you can’t be sure," Dominique denied.
Charles simply repeated, "I can be sure."
Dominique’s aim was incapable of killing. Even when he shot a few pigeons, there was hesitation in his eyes. When he checked the results and found one pigeon still alive but injured, he fired a second shot, clenching his teeth as his facial muscles tightened.
Someone like that would never be able to pull the trigger against a living person on the battlefield.