In the Field (1914-1915): The Impressions of an Officer of Light CavalryDupont, Marcel
History
In the Field (1914-1915): The Impressions of an Officer of Light Cavalry
Dupont, Marcel
World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, French
Under a superbly clear sky, lit up by myriads of stars, the brigade,
in a high state of delight, crossed the battlefield on returning to
camp. Above our heads the last shells sent by the enemy were bursting
in bouquets of fire. We paid no attention to them. Meeting some
battalions of infantry on their way to reinforce the line, we were
asked for news, and shouted: "Courgivault, Montceau ... taken, lost,
then retaken with the bayonet by the brave infantry of the M.
Division. Enemy's regiments annihilated by our artillery, which has
done magnificently...."
Little by little the firing died away along the whole line. Fires,
started by the shells, lit up the battlefield on every side, like
torches set ablaze for our glory. All hearts were filled with joy. It
hovered over the blood-stained country, from which arose a kind of
intoxication that took possession of our souls.
How splendid is the evening of a first victory!
IV. THE JAULGONNE AFFAIR
On September 9, at about eight o'clock in the evening, our advanced
scouts entered Montigny-les-Conde at the moment when the last dragoons
of the Prussian Guard were leaving it at full speed. Our pursuit was
stopped by the night, which was very dark. Large threatening clouds
were moving across the sky, making it impossible to see ten paces
ahead. Whilst the captains were hastily posting guards all round the
village, whilst the lieutenants were erecting barricades at all the
outlets and setting sentries over them, the quartermasters had all the
barns and stables thrown open. With the help of the inhabitants they
portioned out, as well as they could, the insufficient accommodation
among the men and the horses of the squadrons. In each troop camp
fires were lighted under shelter of the walls so that the enemy should
not see them.
What a dinner we had that evening! It was in a large room with a low
open roof supported by small beams. The walls were smoke-blackened and
dirty. On a chest placed near the door I can see still a big pile of
ration loaves, thrown together anyhow; and leaning over the hearth of
the large fireplace, lit up by the wood fire, was an unknown man who
was stirring something in a pot. Round the large table a score of
hungry and jaded but merry officers were fraternally sharing some
pieces of meat which the man took out of the pot.
The Captain and I ate out of the same plate and drank out of the same
metal cup, for crockery was scarce. The poor woman of the house ran
round the table, consumed by her eagerness to make everybody
comfortable. And in the farthest corner, away from the light, a very
old peasant, with a dazed look and haggard eyes, was watching the
unexpected scene. The company heartily cheered Captain C. for his
cleverness in finding and bringing to light, from some nook or other,
a large pitcher of rough wine.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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