My .75: Reminiscences of a Gunner of a .75m/m Battery in 1914Lintier, Paul
History
My .75: Reminiscences of a Gunner of a .75m/m Battery in 1914
Lintier, Paul
World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, French
On reaching Châtel we turned to the left down a clear road and at
last were able to trot. Across the fields and valleys, as far as
the horizon, a long line of grey dust clouding the trees marked the
Varennes road which the division was following.
It was noon, and it seemed to me that we must have journeyed ten or
twelve miles since we started at dawn. But suddenly we heard the guns
again--not very far away, towards the north-east.
Near the village of Apremont on the outskirts of the forest of Argonne,
in which the head of our column had already penetrated, three shells
burst.
Then the enemy was following us! Was there no one to stop him? Had we
not been replaced? Did it mean defeat ... invasion ... France laid open?
Abreast of our column lines of carts were lumbering along the road. The
whole population was flying from the enemy--old women, girls, mothers
with babies at the breast, and swarms of children. These unhappy little
ones were saving that which was most precious to them--their existence;
the women and girls--their honour, a little money, often a household
pet, such as a dog, a cat, or a bird in a cage....
The poorest were on foot. A family of four were making their way
through the woods led by an old man with careworn features. Over his
shoulder he carried a stick, on the end of which was tied a large
wicker basket covered with a white cloth. At his side dangled a
game-bag crammed to its utmost capacity. He was followed up the narrow
forest path by a young woman leading a fat red cow with one hand,
while with the other she held a shaggy-haired dog in leash by means
of a handkerchief fastened to its collar. A little girl was clinging
to her skirts, and letting herself be dragged along. Behind them
came an old woman, bent almost double by age and by the weight of a
grape-gatherer's cask full of linen which she was carrying on her back.
She hobbled along, leaning heavily on a stick.
* * * * *
Where were all these poor people going to? Many had not the vaguest
notion, and confessed as much. They were going straight ahead, into
those parts of France which the Germans would not reach.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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