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Read Ebook: Encyclopaedia Britannica 11th Edition Home Daniel to Hortensius Quintus Volume 13 Slice 6 by Various
Font size: Background color: Text color: Add to tbrJar First Page Next PageEbook has 511 lines and 192992 words, and 11 pagesTranslator: J. C. Drouillard A Blue Devil of France BY CAPTAIN G. P. CAPART LATE OF GENERAL P?TAIN'S STAFF TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL FRENCH BY J. C. DROUILLARD NEW YORK W. J. WATT & COMPANY PUBLISHERS PRESS OF BRAUNWORTH & CO. BOOK MANUFACTURERS BROOKLYN, N. Y. TO M. PAUL BIZET M. DESIR? MARBAIS MY FRIENDS The reader will regret, perhaps, the absence of continuity in the following chapters; that will rapidly disappear, however, when he sees the characteristic figures he should better know and love for a long time to come. A scruple has always guided me: to write the truth. I have been strict in writing nothing but what I have seen or heard. In giving these souvenirs to the American public, I have had but one object: to mold in relief the warlike virtues of the admirable soldiers of France with whom I have fought for more than three years. Mothers, wives, sweethearts and children of the heroes fallen in defense of their country, will find in these pages a precious consolation: they will see that with just reason they can be proud of their cherished dead. I ask indulgence, much indulgence of the public. I have written these lines simply and faithfully during a long and painful convalescence; many times I have felt that my physical forces would abandon me before I could arrive at the end of my task. I shall be fully recompensed for these efforts if I know I have brought to my readers the emotion and feeling, which I still experience, of those epic hours. CAP. G. P. CAPART. THE LAWRENCE HOSPITAL Bronxville, New York June 2, 1918 TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION To have known the author intimately is a rare privilege which has materially aided me in retaining, if I have been successful in so doing, the spirit and atmosphere of the original pages of "A Blue Devil of France." In every sense of the word I am a literalist. Barring a very few instances I have been particularly rigid in my efforts to render a literal translation. Where it has been impossible to do this, the reader will find the original French to enhance the charm and simplicity of the stories. Students of every free country will find in this book numerous examples of the spirit of sacrifice of those who, for four years, have written history with their blood; they will see that the most beautiful existence for a man is to know well how to live and die for his country! J. C. DROUILLARD. August 5, 1918. New York City. A Blue Devil of France FOOTNOTE: NIEUPORT A BLUE DEVIL OF FRANCE War is declared! I feel I must leave all, family, home, position. One must heed Destiny! Already I curse war. I have journeyed seventy-two hours on the railroad to enlist as a soldier. The recruiting officer in charge said to me when I faced him: "Ha! another. This is a double invasion, the German invasion and that of the volunteers!" All morning there is an uninterrupted cort?ge of civilians fleeing from the onrushing hordes. They have taken with them everything capable of being carried in their hands. The pathetic sight makes one feel the precipitateness of the flight, the despair, the panic! A bent old man arrives presently; he walks slowly, fixedly regarding the ground. He is leading a little white goat, which, every ten paces or so, butts the old man with its horns, as if urging him to go faster. The latter does not falter--he walks straight ahead. One doesn't know whether to laugh or weep. A young soldier was seated alongside the road. He belonged to a Regiment of the Division quartered in the neighboring villages. He had a sad and dejected air. I seated myself at his side because I wanted to know the impression of the men who had already been in battle. "Have you been under fire?" I queried. "Yes, corporal." "How many Germans have you killed?" I saw a haze of anger pass over the eyes of this young chap who regarded me with a fixed look. "Just one! I hate the Germans, I swear it, but I tremble to think what I have done--yes, I killed him dead enough! "Then I was called and you know the rest, because I will not speak of the first days of the campaign. "We were placed in a house closer to the enemy lines than the others and it was forbidden to enter the street. Some of my comrades were hidden above on the second floor, but I was hiding back of the front stairs and observed the entrance-way. "My nerves were overexcited by this long wait. A single ray of the moon wandered over the ground above the gate; it recalled one of my ambushes for flower poachers. "Night advanced and finally I believed they would never come. Suddenly a well-sustained fire broke out a short distance away. I had fixed my bayonet and now grasped my rifle tightly. "The gate opened brusquely. The night was clear and I saw a big devil of a German officer, revolver in hand, pass through and enter the walk. He desired without doubt to seek shelter, for he slammed the gate after him. "This is what passed then in a flash. I left my hiding place--he saw me. In his eyes there was the look of distress one always sees in those of a trapped beast. He shot at me, but so quickly that he did not aim. The report awoke the whole house. "Already I had jumped at him--and I literally nailed him to the gate. "Ah! To feel the crushing of bones--when one is accustomed to cultivate flowers--to feel the crushing of bones!" War? At the beginning no one knew then what it was. The enemy bombarded us with shells of an enormous caliber, which excited, more than anything else, our curiosity. Two "Tommies" started to swim across the river N?the to where the enemy had but recently been thrown back. They repeated to everyone who asked them where they were going: "We want to see the BIG cannon, yes the BIG cannon!" Upon leaving table one day with General de Maud'huy, we came upon a group of German prisoners, who immediately looked at us, saluting respectfully. Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page |
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