Verdun to the Vosges: Impressions of the War on the Fortress Frontier of FranceCampbell, Gerald
History
Verdun to the Vosges: Impressions of the War on the Fortress Frontier of France
Campbell, Gerald
World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives
Before we came to Lorraine we had both seen a little of the early
fighting in Belgium—at Namur and Mons, and Charleroi and Dinant. But it
was at Nancy that I really got to know something of French soldiers and
learnt to admire the wonderful cheerfulness and courage of the XXth Army
Corps and the other splendid troops who talked with the enemy in the
gate of France, and blocked the passage with their dead bodies.
All that is long ago, though not so long as it seems after the weary
waiting of more than a year’s work in the trenches. But the end is not
yet. Those army corps, or their successors—for nearly all of the
original officers and men are dead or wounded—are still steadily
pressing the enemy back, almost on the same ground as when we were
there, and, though the full story cannot be told even now, it is neither
too late nor too soon for an Englishman to try and give some idea of the
debt which England owes to the French armies of the east.
But I should like to say a word about England too. It is always
difficult to see ourselves as others see us. Till long after I had gone
abroad for this war—to be quite frank, till the end of 1915—I had no
real idea of the view which other nations held at the beginning of the
chances of our taking a hand in it. I knew, of course, that many Germans
had declared since it began that they for their part had never believed
that we would draw the sword. I knew from Englishmen who were in Berlin
two days, and even I believe one day, before we did declare war, that
Englishmen at that time were received in the streets with cries of “Vive
l’Angleterre,” or rather “Hoch! England!” and that the bitter revulsion
of feeling against us only began when we had thrown down the glove. But
that—as I then thought—extraordinary miscalculation and misunderstanding
of our national temper, the infuriated reaction from which found vent in
the “Gott strafe England” campaign and the “Song of Hate,” I put down to
an inexplicable blindness peculiar to the German nation, and to the sort
of fury to which we are all liable when other people on important
occasions do not act as we wish and expect that they will. Since
then—but only lately—I have learnt better, from the vantage ground of a
neutral nation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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