The Downfall (La Débâcle): A Story of the Horrors of WarZola, Émile
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The Downfall (La Débâcle): A Story of the Horrors of War
Zola, Émile
Franco-Prussian War, 1870-1871 -- Fiction
At daybreak, in the thick fog enveloping the plateau of Floing, Bugler
Gaude sounded the reveille with all the strength of his lungs. But the
moisture with which the atmosphere was densely impregnated, so deadened
the joyous call that it failed to awaken the men of the company, most
of whom, lacking even the energy to pitch their tents, had rolled
themselves in the canvas or stretched themselves in the mud. They were
lying there, already looking like corpses with their pallid faces
hardened by weariness and sleep, and to rouse them it became necessary
to shake them one by one, when they sat up with the air of men just
resuscitated from the grave, quite livid, and with their eyes full of
terror at the thought of life.
Maurice was awakened by Jean. 'What's up? Where are we?' he stammered
as he glanced in a scared way on either side, perceiving nothing but
the grey sea in the depths of which he was apparently plunged, with the
shadowy forms of his comrades floating around him. It was impossible
to see twenty yards ahead, so that he could not take his bearings. He
had not the faintest notion as to the whereabouts of Sedan. At that
moment, however, the sound of a cannonade, somewhere far away, fell on
his ears: 'Ah! it's for to-day--so we are going to fight. So much the
better, we must make an end of it all.'
The men around him said the same: on all sides there was a gloomy
satisfaction, a longing to escape from that interminable nightmare,
and to come face to face with those Prussians, whom, at the outset,
they had gone in search of, and then had fled from during so many weary
hours. At last they would be able to fire on the foe and disburden
themselves of those cartridges which they had brought from such a
distance without an opportunity of burning even one of them. This time
everybody realised that battle was inevitable.
However, the guns of Bazeilles were thundering more and more loudly,
and Jean, who stood there listening, inquired: 'Where are they firing?'
'I fancy it's near the Meuse,' replied Maurice; 'but the deuce take me
if I know where I am.'
'Listen, youngster,' now said the corporal, 'you must keep beside me
to-day, for a fellow needs to know something about these affairs if he
doesn't want to get injured. I've been through the mill before, and
I'll keep my eyes open for both of us.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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