Gerald "Jerry" Adam Aucoin
7373rd Hospital Sqdn
@ Chas 1955-1957

Some of the great places I remember in town were, Le Chat Qui Rit, Mike's Bar, La Grenoille, A-1, and Belle Isle. (See the old Watering Holes.)  The USO club in town was always a great place to go when money was tight after the first two weeks after payday. 

After reviewing the Watering Holes page, I remembered some of the other places we frequented: Le Faison, Joe from Maine and the Parisian.  The pernod licorice taste still seems to linger.  When we could afford it we drank Amstel and Spatenbrau beer.  When funds were tight, we drank panther p. which was a horrid beer. But we swallowed it like it was our last drink. I guess when times were stretched, we were able to make most things palatable. At the Parisian, there was an older waitress who took a liking to us and she would tab our drinks.  One of the few places that would.  Helped out greatly. As a medic, I got to know many other service people, ran around with APs, AIO, Support, and many medics. The only regret that I have is not availing myself of all the art and history in that fantastic country.

Inexpensive cashmere v-neck sweaters, a white sport coat and an overcoat all purchased from Burberry's on base. Scotch and named brandies from the post exchange for a song. $1,15 cigarettes from the exchange.  Playing charades with pretty Daffies at the Red Cross center, then escorting them home, leaving after curfew, many nights used their cars to go places.

I remember some days when a few of us rented bicycles, got a loaf of bread, a rock of cheese and a bottle of Vin Blanc Ordinaire and took off into the countryside.  Meeting super people along the way. French farmers asking for une cigaret americain .

The Gauloises they smoked,  smelled like old dried hay and tasted even worse.   But I loved every moment of all the French culture , people, and country. I spoke french fluently, so; was able to communicate with them fairly well. The food, the atmosphere, the femmes fatale, well, maybe not fatale.  But warm and friendly and always smiling.

John Hall reminded me of a car that he and I bought together while at Chad.  It was a 1951 Studebaker Commander, the one with the three points at the front that made it look like a P-38 airplane.  We had many great outings in that thing. Sometimes as many as seven guys would clamber into it for wild rides in the country or going to Verzun (?), Issoudun, Touzon,  Mt. Luzon or Lake Chambon. 

Once, when we were heading back from Touzon, we had a flat tire with no spare.  Well, as luck would have it, a French farmer came along on his bicycle and asked if he could help.  I was able to communicate with him in French, and told him the problem.  He smiled a toothless smile and told us he would be right back.  We waited -  where would we go?  He came back and had a patch kit and bike pump with him.  We got the flat fixed, with much effort.  We offered to pay him but all he wanted was "des cigarets Americain" which we gratefully gave to him and gave him and his bike a ride home.