And after you reach St Pierre, you realize that no suffering can outweigh the the delights of that most fascinating outpost of France. The World War did more than to depress St Pierre financially. It caused sixty five of her sons to be listed in the catherdral as dead or missing. Not even warm and gay French blood can make the islands anything but melancholy. One has sad thoughts when wandering about St Pierre.
Many houses stand vacant, crumbling.
Up on the mornes, or hills back of the town, you see the ruins of a vast barrack where once regiments of red-trousered soldiers made a brave showing. Now the roof has fallen in, and empty windows stare seaward. The hospital gutted by fire, makes a sorry picture. St Pierre, by the way, has no adequate fire protection, and thrice has barely missed destruction. Something infinitely pathetic emerges from the attempt of the brave French spirit still struggling to carry on in that harsh environment.