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
He continued: "Of course if one thought of death as annihilation in
the dark, if one thought that nothing, nothing would survive of this
substance, that one was--Ah! How dream of that without terror! I can
understand shutting one's eyes to it then. And, on the other hand,
it seems to me that to live without thinking of death, and without
thinking of it often, is to blind oneself, to renounce all broad and
free judgment. How well religion provides for all that! What courage
it gives to the dying, as well as to the living! And is not all wisdom
resumed in this: to give courage to man?--I was talking to you of my
fiancée yesterday; she believes. Otherwise would she have continued
to be engaged to me when she knew I was ill, and would she have let
me go, expecting that I should not come back?" He smiled. "I don't
want to preach to you, Dreher, but as you once were one of us, let me
remind you that the God in whom we hope is just. Because our people's
hope, throughout the ages, has been in Him; because our nation has
been the elder daughter of His Church, I believe that His hand is
upon us. Will He allow us to succumb? No. Listen! This miracle I was
talking about--at heart you expect it just as I do--if I have entire
confidence in it, it is because I believe in the existence of an order
superior to man; in a Providence, if you will, that will not allow the
accomplishment of such iniquity. Our country will be saved because
she will deserve to go on living. How good it is to fight, when one
does not feel that one is fighting amidst the cold concatenation of
phenomena, but in the conviction that a supreme tutelary force upholds
and directs our efforts."
I considered him as he sat there with his chin in his hands and black
lines under his eyes. So he had been through the deep waters at the
beginning, when he had had to tear himself away from the hope of human
happiness. Now he was resigned to it. He was not lying when he said
that he looked forward to his certain end, which was so near at hand,
without horror. His glorious smile retained confidence in the future
beyond the grave. It was only a relative end, a transition whose
anguish was attenuated since he was sure of living again with those
whom he loved.
Oh, the consolation in religion! This association of well-worn words
recovered its full meaning in my eyes. Nothing but faith could raise
man to such abnegation. The profound and primitive instinct, an
instinct comparable to love in its folly and grandeur!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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