The Ordeal by Fire: By a Sergeant in the French ArmyBerger, Marcel
General
The Ordeal by Fire: By a Sergeant in the French Army
Berger, Marcel
Soldiers -- Fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- France -- Fiction
In ours, for instance, nobody ever reported sick unless he was
suffering tortures. They made it a point of personal pride. In theirs,
on the contrary! One morning, Guillaumin, who was sergeant of the day,
had put down eight men for medical parade. A mere trifle! He calmly
undertook to cure them all by suggestion. His chief argument was that
they would have to foot it for about five and a half miles, to reach
the Medical Officer. Five of the men had their names scratched; the
rest stuck to it. It happened to be one of Bouchut's bad days and he
sent them all off with a flea in their ear.
And when we stormed Beauclair, what a tragic exhibition they gave of
themselves. When we left the wood in extended order, ready to charge,
we looked round for No. 1 platoon, which was to support us on our
right. Not a sign of it to be seen. It made a cruel impression on
us just as we were starting off with fixed bayonets. At last we saw
Lieutenant Delafosse come out leading a handful of men, among them De
Valpic and his half-section. Behind, a long way behind, was Humel. We
charged and saw no more of them. In the uproar which followed upon the
occupation of the village, the incident passed more or less unnoticed.
But we learnt that the C.O. had rated Delafosse for it roundly. The
latter, throwing off his reserve, frankly laid the blame on some of his
N.C.O.'s who lacked go.... That was putting the case very mildly! De
Valpic assured me that he had heard Descroix putting the drag on his
men's eagerness. "Don't hurry lads! The first lot will be napoohed!"
Here again no penalties were inflicted; they would have been too
terrible. The well-known sentence for every weakness in military law
is: _DEATH_.
This leniency was perhaps to be blamed. Who can say what an ill-omened
influence our comrades exercised during the days that followed? It
was the most gloomy period of all. We abandoned first-rate positions
without fighting. It was impossible to rely on any favourable
information, however slight. Rumours circulated, and were added to,
concerning our reverse in the North. The replenishment of munitions
which had up till then been well-organised was failing. We were, as I
have said, repeatedly in danger of being cut off, or of getting under
fire from the pursuing batteries. Villages blazed behind us, or even
on our flank--a palpable danger for our retreat. The ditches too were
filled with soldiers, belonging chiefly to the regulars. Who could
blame them for it? Boys of twenty, worn out by four weeks' overdriving,
sleeping there, by the roadsides, for days and nights on end.
It was a bad example though. The temptation to copy them was so great.
There were no more mounted police on the heels of the stragglers. Even
they were fighting, so we were told.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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