seven o'clock
_ Parlez moi de cela _ it is indeed hard work on the ramparts . _ Infandum dolorem quorum pars magna fui _ . Take the day duty . What with rising at seven o'clock , and being drilled between a middle-aged and corpulent grocer on one side and a meagre beardless barber 's apprentice on the other ; what with going to the bastions at eleven , and seeing half one 's companions drunk before twelve ; what with trying to keep their fists off one 's face when one politely asks them not to call one 's general a traitor or a poltroon , -- the work of the ramparts would be insupportable , if I did not take a pack of cards with me , and enjoy a quiet rubber with three other heroes in some sequestered corner . As for night work , nothing short of the indomitable fortitude of a Parisian could sustain it ; the tents made expressly not to be waterproof , like the groves of the Muses , '' ' per Quos et aquea subeant et aurae . ' A fellow-companion of mine tucks himself up on my rug , and pillows his head on my knapsack . I remonstrate -- he swears -- the other heroes wake up and threaten to thrash us both ; and just when peace is made , and one hopes for a wink of sleep , a detachment of spectators , chiefly gamins , coming to see that all is safe in the camp , strike up the Marseillaise .