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قراءة كتاب In the Field (1914-1915): The Impressions of an Officer of Light Cavalry
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In the Field (1914-1915): The Impressions of an Officer of Light Cavalry
The Project Gutenberg eBook, In the Field (1914-1915), by Marcel Dupont, Translated by H. W. Hill
Title: In the Field (1914-1915)
The Impressions of an Officer of Light Cavalry
Author: Marcel Dupont
Release Date: April 14, 2006 [eBook #18177]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE FIELD (1914-1915)***
E-text prepared by Jeannie Howse, Thierry Alberto, Henry Craig,
and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
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Internet Archive
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| Note: | Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See http://www.archive.org/details/InTheField |
Transcriber's Note:
Any obvious typographical errors have been corrected in this text.
For a complete list, please see the bottom of this document.
IN THE FIELD
(1914-1915)
THE IMPRESSIONS OF AN OFFICER
OF LIGHT CAVALRY
BY
MARCEL DUPONT
TRANSLATED BY H. W. HILL
LONDON
WILLIAM HEINEMANN
London: William Heinemann, 1916.
TO
GENERAL CHERFILS
A TRIBUTE OF
SINCERE GRATITUDE
PREFACE
In the following pages the reader will find no tactical studies, no military criticism, no vivid picture of a great battle. I have merely tried to make a written record of some of the hours I have lived through during the course of this war. A modest Lieutenant of Chasseurs, I cannot claim to form any opinion as to the operations which have been carried out for the last nine months on an immense front. I only speak of things I have seen with my own eyes, in the little corner of the battlefield occupied by my regiment.
It occurred to me that if I should come out of the deathly struggle safe and sound, it would be a pleasure to me some day to read over these notes of battle or bivouac. I thought, further, that my people would be interested in them. So I tried to set down my impressions in my intervals of leisure. Days of misery, days of joy, days of battle.... What volumes one might write, if one were to follow our squadrons day by day in their march!
I preferred to choose among many memories. I did not wish to compose memoirs, but only to evoke the most tragic or the most touching moments of my campaign. And, indeed, I have had only too many from which to choose.
I shall rejoice if I have been able to revive some phases of the tragedy in which we were the actors for my brothers-in-arms.
Further, I gladly offer these "impressions" to any non-combatants they may interest. They must not look for the talents of a great story-teller, nor the thrilling interest of a novel. All they will find is the simple tale of an eyewitness, the unschooled effort of a soldier more apt with the sword than with the pen.
M.D.
The Editor of SOLDIERS' TALES will be glad to read diaries or notebooks of those returning, in any capacity whatsoever, from the Front with a view to inclusion in the Series. Contributions must be strictly truthful and should be written with no effort at fine writing. They are intended to tell truthfully the experiences and the feelings of the writers. They should be sent by registered post to the Editor, "Soldiers' Tales," 21, Bedford Street, W.C., and they may be accompanied by sketches and photographs. All contributions printed will be well paid for. Contributions should be of 30,000 words and upwards in length.
CONTENTS
| CHAP. | PAGE | |
| I. | How I went to the Front | 1 |
| II. | The First Charge | 57 |
| III. | Reconnoitring Courgivault | 76 |
| IV. | The Jaulgonne Affair | 102 |
| V. | Low Mass and Benediction | 152 |
| VI. | A Tragic Night in the Trenches | 178 |
| VII. | Sister Gabrielle | 226 |
| VIII. | Christmas Night | 258 |
I. HOW I WENT TO THE FRONTToC
The train was creeping along slowly in the soft night air. Seated on a truss of hay in the horse-box with my own two horses and that of my orderly, Wattrelot, I looked out through the gap left by the unclosed sliding door. How slowly we were going! How often we stopped! I got impatient as I thought of the hours we were losing whilst the other fellows were fighting and reaping all the glory. Station after station we