A _poilu_, on the board walk, said to his friend: "This will be a great
day for airplanes."
In effect, all morning our airplanes and those of the enemy described,
at very high altitudes, frequent circles, recrossing the lines, girded
by puffs of white smoke of breaking projectiles.
In spite of the joy which filled us all, we never spoke but of the next
attack, the topic of conversation for the past several days.
We were at the turning point of the war; month after month, the ruin
of the Central Empires became more certain, each hour that passed they
became more enfeebled in human energy and in money! "_Parbleu_," said
an officer, "their armies have been developing on the different fronts
excessively, the strain on their troops has become very strong; and a
military decision imposes itself upon them."
They wished to hasten the end of the war and the way to finish it is
to attempt a great thrust, a decisive thrust, a desperate thrust--the
propitious time is come, it is the moment to attack, there is not an
instant to lose!
It was easily determined that a formidable battle was about to commence
and that the shock would be heavy----
Here are some of the remarks that were passed back and forth at
Eparges, the eve of the battle of Verdun. That night in the trenches
there was a silence, a silence impressive. The night was calm and
starry----
THE DAY OF _February_ 21, 1916.
I left Eparges at six o'clock in the morning. As before the day dawned
magnificently. In a happy mood, I start out with Dr. Nicolas to find
some of my _poilus_ on the menaced front.
An automobile was waiting on the Mesnil-sur-les-Côtes to take us to the
north of Verdun.
On leaving at seven o'clock in the morning, the rumbling of cannon,
heavy and uninterrupted, was heard: the battle of Verdun had
commenced....
I did not intend to stop at Verdun, but on approaching the city, I saw
the civil population fleeing _en masse_ toward the country, after 380's
fell at regular intervals on the martyred city for about an hour.
After a short stop, I left again for Cumières and Côte-de-l'Oie, where
I also had a squad of workers.
Leaving Bras, it was easy to determine that the enemy had launched his
offensive on the right bank of the Meuse.
As far as the eye could reach the bursting of large projectiles was
seen: they fell particularly on the forts, on the roads, on the
cantonments, on the trenches.
The crushing noise produced by these large _Marmites_[21] became
accentuated hour by hour; a curtain of smoke collected against the blue
sky, and, with the brightness of the day, this spectacle certainly did
not lack grandeur.
I still command a view of the battlefield seen from the Côte-de-l'Oie;
columns of smoke go rolling on the banks of the Meuse. I had never seen
such parallel artillery preparation up to that day.
Our _poilus_ cried:
"The 77's and 105's no longer exist!"
It could easily be seen that "something" was taking place on the right
bank where the intensity of the artillery became greater hour by hour.
They fought stubbornly before Samonieux and we heard the noise of the
machine-guns. I made the resolution to go and rejoin the men I had at
Ornes, on the right bank, since it was they above all that were in the
greatest danger.
* * * * *
The memory of the afternoon of this day will forever remain sad; I ask
myself often how my comrade LeBlond and I had been able to reach Ornes.
We succeeded in reaching Bras toward two o'clock: the village was
violently bombarded--human bodies and horses blocked the streets.
I went to pay my respects to General B---- whom I found in his
fighting post, surrounded by his officers. He wished us good luck in
affectionate terms.
We climbed Côte du Poivre and arrived at Louvemont toward three o'clock
in the afternoon. In going through the village, our eyes commenced to
be irritated by tear gas: the bombardment was infernal.
It was apparent that the enemy was undertaking a decisive action. The
road which we traversed was hammered by numerous projectiles and there
was nothing for us to do but forge ahead like automatons----
LeBlond had taken my arm, and, together, it was decided not to stop
before any obstacle----
The nearer we approached Chambrettes the more dense became the fire.
At four o'clock the enemy piled up a barrage on the road and
concentrated their fire on the farm: it rained projectiles of all
calibers--of all big calibers, I know.
In a circle of 325 yards radius, there fell, certainly, four _marmites_
every second, of a caliber equal or superior to 21 centimeters. The
ground trembled and a smoke, acrid and suffocating, enveloped us.
The 150 timed-shell from time to time rent the air with their furious
screams like those of a cat when you step on its tail----
During my whole campaign never have I seen an equal density of fire.
Torn bodies of skirmishers were scattered here and there in this zone
of almost certain death. Continuing our way we had escaped death more
than once in this violent fire. We were covered with spurts of earth
from bursting projectiles which fell close to us and those that fell
around struck us with ricochetting fragments of steel.
As there was not urgent need of reaching Ornes, we resolved to tarry a
few instants in one of the shelters on the farm. We had 175 yards to go
in a rain of steel and well-directed fire, or as dizzy a route as the
ascension of Mount Cervin, for example.
We entered the telephone post at the precise moment the _poilus_
ascertained all underground lines had been cut----
The shells continued to fall so fast around us that we had the
impression of being on the inside of a hermetically sealed autobus
rumbling with great speed over a rough pavement.
A projectile burst at one corner of the shelter which crumbled from the
force of the explosion and threw us all together in a heap--No panic!
I sensed the feeling that our last hour had come and the men, picking
themselves up in silence, crowded into the corners save one who cried,
gesticulating with his arms:
"Is--is that what you call a demolishing fire?"
* * * * *
Our objective was Ornes and if it became necessary to die I avowed that
I would prefer to fall in the light, my eyes turned toward the sun.
"If die we must," I say to LeBlond, on leaving the dugout, "I would
rather be killed outside----"
"I am with you----"
Again we traveled over a space of 350 yards in a haze of fire and
smoke----
A _marmite_ fell a few steps away, covering us with dirt--I see my
comrade stagger, struck on the head with a large mass. Fortunately it
is only a ball of turf which knocks him violently to the ground----
He picks himself up, and in a ringing voice:
"Yes, if that one will not get me a vacation, now, you will not be very
_chic_!"
* * * * *
Some hours later we reached Ornes, having had to go through the barrage
at Chambrettes, and another, of 305's, on the cavernous road along
Chaume Wood. This road, so quiet a few days before, had become a
veritable hell.
The village of Ornes, itself, was relatively calm that night, the
infantry attacks not having begun up to the present, only between the
Meuse and Herbebois Wood. The _poilus_ waited calmly all events that
might be forthcoming, always ready to do their duty stoically and
simply----
I had promised General B---- to give him news of our sector during the
night, all the telephonic means of communication having been destroyed.
Again I traversed the entire road from Ornes to Bras; at Chambrettes
the spectacle was fairy-like--our batteries on the one side fired in
unison and their flashes illumined the heavens. In front of us the
soaring shells came thick and fast from the forest of Spincourt and
Forges Wood, intermittently brightening the darkness like a luminous
_pianotage_, giving one the impression that every ten square yards
there was an enemy battery.