THE WORLD WAR TWO GROUP discussion

Buddy read for the book; "Poilu: The World War I Notebooks of Corporal Louis Barthas, Barrelmaker, 1914 – 1918" by Louis Barthas.

Reviews:

"After the First World War, it became the new foremost charge of writers from the many nations involved to describe the indescribable, to somehow transmit to those who hadn't seen the murderous conflict at the front just how effective man had become at destroying himself. But the literary arts can sometimes fail to capture brute realities, and it's often more helpful to turn to primary sources in such cases where merely to describe is to condemn. Poilu: The World War I Notebooks of Corporal Louis Barthas, Barrelmaker 1914-1918, has been in print in France since the 70's, but is only now translated into English, by Edward M. Strauss, the former publisher of MHQ: The Quarterly Journal of Military History. Corporal Barthas, conscripted out of his life as cooper in the French countryside at the age of 35, saw four years of near-constant fighting in some of the largest and deadliest actions of the war (and of all time): Artois, Flanders, Champagne, Verdun, the Somme, and the Argonne. The fact of his survival is unlikely enough, but he also set down everything that he saw and experienced in a series of notebooks, with no deficit of insight, opinion, or literary flair. His description of the meat-grinder of trench warfare is visceral, but he saves most of his venom for those in command: "What punishment would these inhuman generals deserve, the artisans of defeat, for ruining, spoiling, exposing to suffering and death so many precious souls?" One wonders why it took so long for an English translation--this is clearly one of the most readable and indispensable accounts of the death of the glory of war." - The Daily Beast, "Hot Reads," March 31, 2014

“An exceptionally vivid memoir of a French soldier’s experience of the First World War.”—Max Hastings, New York Times bestselling author

I just started reading this book today. The lead up to the first chapter is quite long and is more of an overview.

Perfect timing Betsy! I will try and start my copy in a day or so.

I think I can Buddy read this, have it coming next week.

Simon wrote: "I think I can Buddy read this, have it coming next week."

Good new Simon!

I'll be starting "Poilu" this morning.

Started on the book tonight; I was fairly underwhelmed by Robert Crowley's introduction, although Rémy Cazals two introductions were somewhat more enlightening. Looking forward to getting into Barthas' writing proper.

While we all know the horrors of the Great War, Barthas related a humorous story about a comrade named Jordy who was on sentry duty on one of the main roads leading into camp. A hog butcher presented himself at the checkpoiint with his passport along with a horse and plump porker. Unfortunately, the horse and pig didn't have passports. Jordy, being stubborn, had to be told by Barthas that all three were eligigible to enter on the one passport. That evening Jordy and the butcher had a drink together to commemorate Jordy's diligence.

Betsy wrote: "While we all know the horrors of the Great War, Barthas related a humorous story about a comrade named Jordy who was on sentry duty on one of the main roads leading into camp. A hog butcher present..."

That's a very funny story Betsy!

I found it interesting that in the 2014 Introduction by Rémy Cazals he mentioned the book was provided to the cast of the French movie Un long dimanche de fiancailles (A Very Long Engagement); 'to put them in the right mood, and everyone came back to him saying, in so many words. "God dammit, I never imagined it was like that!" '

Here is another good story from "Poilu" in regards to a French attack upon the German lines under heavy machinegun fire. From the chapter; 'December 15, 1914 - May 4, 1915':

(view spoiler)["I was disappointed to see that what we thought was a trench was just a series of rifle pits, spaced out from one another, where German sentinels no doubt had kept watch at night.

Only one of these pits, where a man could barely flatten himself out, was unoccupied. With one leap I reached it and collapsed into it in a heap, mentally and physically wiped out. I was saved!

Meanwhile Thomas from Salleles, seeing that I was going to steal this pit to which he was also headed, rose up at the same time as I did and fell onto me at top speed, right in the middle of a new crackling of bullets.

Thomas was big and fat. He hadn't enough had enough time to get thin. With his warrior's gear he weighed about a hundred kilos.

There are those who complain about tight living quarters. I'd like to see them there, curled up, head down, in a hole of barely sixty square centimeters, weighed down by a hundred-kilo heap!

In fact I was suffocating, and if in a supreme effort I hadn't been able to throw Thomas off I was going to die in this hole, with no glory, no beauty.

On my knapsack I had a spade, Thomas had a pickax. Flattened out and after strenuous efforts, with these two tools we succeeded in making a little protective parapet. Our neighbours in other holes did the same, and we were able to link up with them, digging our own little trench from which we could scoff at the Kaiser's machine gunners." (hide spoiler)]

I remember that story. I'm sure none of those who fought in 1914 could ever have imagined the things they'd have to do to stay alive. And that's just the beginning, AR!

"Poilu" - The author's description of a French attack upon some German trenches. From the chapter; 'December 15, 1914 - May 4, 1915':

(view spoiler)[At ten minutes to 3, they had us hoist our knapsacks, for this early in the war they were intelligent enough to have us go into battle with all the heavy baggage of an unhappy trooper. I don't think that the warriors of the Middle Ages, clad in iron, were more weighted down than we were.

Sublieutenant Rodiere was no doubt keen to win his second stripe. He was a volunteer. He seemed to me highly excited, and the strong smell of alcohol wafted through the trench as he passed by. He brandished a German bayonet, and whacked it against the parapet two of three times, saying, "You see, I'm going to kill the Boches with their own bayonet."

Alas, a quarter of an hour later he was dead, his head shattered by a bullet the moment he peered out over the trench.

At five minutes to three they had us fix bayonets. Our artillery opened up. The German guns, all but silent the day before, immediately responded with violence.

After just five minutes of preparation, and just with our 75's, the attack was launched on a broad front. Immediately the German machine guns went wild, mowing down those who, pushed out of the trenches, couldn't go to ground behind any kind of shelter.

Beholding this spectacle of horror, I thought about the paintings of battles which cover the walls of our museums or which illustrate the pages of our French history books, where you'd see leaders resplendent on horseback, banners flapping in the wind, bugles, drums, cannon, all arrayed, sounding, beating, animated with an intoxication, with heroic frenzy.

Today, where are our great leaders? Or even our little ones? Holed up in a bunker, ear stuck to a telephone.

The regimental flag? Safely stowed in a sturdy cellar in Vermelles. Two bullets scorched it and left holes in it at the start of the war, near Mulhouse, where it was almost taken by the enemy. That was enough glory.

The Buglers? The drummers? Musicians? Useless, They're good only for putting on concerts at rest time. Now they're stretcher-bearers, orderlies, batmen.

Meanwhile, our company finding itself right at the front line, our captain declared that he wouldn't move until the other companies caught up with us, and he repeated this twice to the commandant, who gave the order to attack immediately, no matter what. By the way, that's the motto of the 80th and 280th regiments, posted on the walls of the Montmorency Barracks in Narbonne: "Forward, no matter what!" (hide spoiler)]

Excellent stuff AR, this guy sees everything clearly.

Mike wrote: "Excellent stuff AR, this guy sees everything clearly."

He provides a vivid description of the events he witnessed and I like his occasional sarcasm :)

I'm enjoying it, (I'm at roughly the same point as Rick) but I'm suffering a nagging doubt that what's expressed in the book has been reworked postwar. Unless Barthas really is as big a misery as he makes out.

Good point Jonny, but he is in the infantry, they are always miserable! 😁😁😁

"Poilu" - The Lorette Charnel House, June 2 - July 2, 1915:

(view spoiler)[ Lorette - a sinister name, evoking scenes of horror, gloomy woods, sunken roads, plateaus and ravines taken and retaken twenty times, where for months, night after night, we cut each other's throats, massacred each other incessantly. We made that little corner of the earth a human charnel house, by the criminal obstinacy of our top brass, who knew quite well that nothing decisive would come from this petty style of fighting war, these nasty little attacks. But they imagined that in this war of attrition, this cruel game, the Germans would be the first to be worn down.

"Je les grignote [I'm nibbling away at them]", says paunchy old Joffre - a phrase that the press picks up like a rare pearl, and this futile, bloody offensive dragged on for several months. (hide spoiler)]


Infantrymen in a Trench, Notre-Dame de Lorette, 1915 by Francois Flameng:
https://www.meisterdrucke.ie/fine-art...

Battle for Notre Dame de Lorette:
http://www.webmatters.net/index.php?i...

"Poilu" - You have to feel for the poor bloody infantry in this story. From the chapter; 'July 1 - September 27, 1915':

(view spoiler)[On July 10, at 9 in the evening, we left Bully and went up to occupy a second line trench for four days.

The bombardments had noticeably diminished. It was almost a sector for rest. But on July 14, all that was spoiled. To remind the Germans that this was our national holiday, at three in the afternoon our artillery unleashed a violent cannonade upon the opposing trenches. We would have done better to leave the Germans alone, because they replied in kind, not on our artillerymen, which would have been logical, but on us infantrymen, who had nothing to do with it. (hide spoiler)]

Poilu: The World War I Notebooks of Corporal Louis Barthas, Barrelmaker, 1914-1918 by Louis Barthas

Notre Dame de Lorette is so peaceful now. We walked down the rows of graves, trying to imagine what it must been like. Barthas does his best, but it can't be done.

Betsy wrote: "Notre Dame de Lorette is so peaceful now. We walked down the rows of graves, trying to imagine what it must been like. Barthas does his best, but it can't be done."

Apparently Notre Dame de Lorette is the largest French military cemetery in the world:

http://www.greatwar.co.uk/french-flan....

Since starting "Poilu" I've decided to bit the bullet and order a copy of; "The French Army and the First World War" by Elizabeth Greenhalgh. I've been looking around for some time for an affordable copy and luckily today I found one on eBay.

The French Army and the First World War by Elizabeth Greenhalgh

Glad you got a good deal. Sounds like a terrific book, AR.

They Shall Not Pass: The French Army on the Western Front 1914-1918 is one I made earlier ....

I thought They Shall Not Pass was an excellent book. I read it xome years ago.

If you have been reading this book, you know Barthas is outspoken (at least to the written page) about his socialistic/anti-militaristic feelings so I was a bit surprised when in early 1916 he loses his corporal's stripes supposedly because of 'setting a bad example' for the others when he refuses to subject his men to danger unecessarily. He first decides to protest, and then decides not to because he doesn't want to give them the satisfaction of 'seeing how hurt he was by losing them.'. You would think that he'd be grateful not to have the responsibility of 'ordering' his men to die for something he doesn't seem to believe in. Instead, pride seems to be stronger than his socialist ideals.

I haven't gotten to that point in the book yet Betsy (finishing off a War of Independence book) so I can't comment. I suppose all men have their pride regardless of their political stamp.

He finally is allowed to make his appeal after much effort, and regains his stripes. I guess it just seems like he's violating that #1 rule--'Never volunteer' by voluntarily putting himself in a position of responsibility again.

Betsy wrote: "He finally is allowed to make his appeal after much effort, and regains his stripes. I guess it just seems like he's violating that #1 rule--'Never volunteer' by voluntarily putting himself in a po..."

Maybe it may be a case of trying to look after his men, not have some glory-hound take charge of his section and getting them all killed. I should be able to re-start my copy of the book tomorrow I hope and catch up with Corporal Barthas :)

"Poilu" - The author's unit has been transferred to the Verdun sector - Côte 304:

"As day broke, I looked out upon this famous, nameless hill. Our trench lay at the foot of it. For several months the hill had been disputed as if it had diamond mines on its slopes.

Alas, all it contained now were thousands of shredded, pulverized corpses. Nothing distinguished it from neighboring hills. It seemed to have been partly wooded at one time, but no trace of vegetation remained. The convulsed, over-turned earth offered nothing but a spectacle of devastation."

And;

"The trench we had just occupied was about halfway up the slope. At its entrance, on what was left of a sign, I read the words 'Rascas Trench'.

In reality this wasn't much more than a miserable boyau dug, in one night, by troops who were hanging on there and who, the next day, were pulverized by howitzer fire.

There, human flesh had been shredded, torn to bits. At places where the earth was soaked with blood, swarms of flies swirled and eddied. You couldn't really see corpses, but you knew where they were, hidden in shell holes with a layer of dirt on top of them, from the wafting smells of rotten flesh. There was all sorts of debris everywhere: broken rifles; gutted packs from which spilled out pages of tenderly written letters and other carefully guarded souvenirs from home, and which the wind scattered; crushed canteens, shredded musette bags - all labeled 125th Regiment. I was easily able to replace the munitions, rations, and tools which I had cast off during the march up to the front."

Verdun - The Battle of Côte 304 and Le Mort-Homme:
https://www.wereldoorlog1418.nl/battl...

Mort Homme -
https://www.pierreswesternfront.nl/ar...

Barthas seemed to serve in many of the great battles of WWI, even if not always on the front line. Cote 304 certainly played a role in the memories of he and his men as decribed.

Betsy wrote: "Barthas seemed to serve in many of the great battles of WWI, even if not always on the front line. Cote 304 certainly played a role in the memoriies of he sand his men as decribed."

He certainly seems to get around a bit Betsy and without a scratch so far!

"Poilu" - May 19 - July 12, 1916 - The author describes some very rudimentary gas precautions in the French trenches:

"We had no more than mediocre confidence in the precautions taken. At the entrances of each shelter, there was a stick of wood, some straw, and some gasoline, to be lit in order to dissipate the murderous cloud. There were special grenades to disperse the gas by their explosions; exploding canisters full of water with bisulfite to make the gas cling to the ground ... The sections changed positions every night or two, so that the men had no taste for keeping themselves ready for a gas attack at any moment.

So the water went stale in its containers, the canisters rusted and became unusable, the powdered bisulfite disappeared, the gasoline was used by the poilus to light up their shelters, the wood and the straw got soaked in the rain and the dew. Nobody knew, in case of a gas attack, just what we needed to do and where to hid ourselves away in the shelters. Everything was left to chance."

It doesn't sound like an efficient way to fight off a gas attack. At times, 'les poilus' seemed almost fatalistic about their chances of surviving. But choking your lungs out would not be a good way under any circumstances.

Betsy wrote: "It doesn't sound like an efficient way to fight off a gas attack. At times, 'les poilus' seemed almost fatalistic about their chances of surviving. But choking your lungs out would not be a good wa..."

A case of laissez-faire but in a deadly way!

I have finished the book, and appreciate the first-hand account of the misery he and his fellow Poilus went through. I just had a hard time with the constant rants about his political convictions, and how the officers were petulant and oblivious to the concerns of the men who were really doing the fighting. I'm sure he was telling it as he saw it, but he obviously polished it up for the best effect. Sadly, the lessons learned in 1914-18 were lost by 1939.

Betsy wrote: "I have finished the book, and appreciate the first-hand account of the misery he and his fellow Poilus went through. I just had a hard time with the constant rants about his political convictions, ..."

I have to agree that he does seem to go on a bit about the officer class :)

I've got to agree in degrees with you both - I seem to be skipping chunks of the book where he's constantly carping, being smarter than his officers, or just followed round by that eternal swamp that seems to follow him like a bad smell. My sneaky (possibly somewhat unworthy?) suspicion that someone's reworked this prior to publication also won't go away.... there's a little too much hindsight and 'Oh What A Lovely War' about some of his 'insight'.

I think you make some valid points, Jonny. I just can't believe he sat down in any of those hovels, and poured out his memories. Perhaps he waited since some of the dates don't match, Since the entries continue into 1919, he could do aftermath, but the accounting just seems too polished. Oh, and one other thing that you two might know more about, how often did they get home leave? He seemed to get home more often than what others did according to some books.

I found this bit of info on a Great War site Betsy:

"The French troops were granted leave that lasted three to ten days, two to three times per year, starting in July 1915. On the German side, soldiers had to wait one year at the front before they even had the possibility of going home for two weeks."

https://encyclopedia.1914-1918-online...

Thanks, AR. Then perhaps his leave was right or at least the ideal amount since I'm sure leaves were cancelled when there was a 'Big Push' on. Whatever, it must have been a terrible 4-year period for poilu and family.

Ha ! delivered today ! .... now to catch you all up !

Simon wrote: "Ha ! delivered today ! .... now to catch you all up !"

Good to hear :)

"Poilu" - The author has completed a course on the French 37mm trench gun and has been transferred to the specialist gun section.

The French 37mm Mle 1916 Infantry Gun:
http://www.landships.info/landships/a...

https://www.militaryfactory.com/armor...

Footage of one in use:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zzttk...

'Aussie Rick' wrote: ""Poilu" - The author has completed a course on the French 37mm trench gun and has been transferred to the specialist gun section.

The French 37mm Mle 1916 Infantry Gun:
http://www.landships.info/l..."

Interesting. Similar to the small-crewed U.S. 37mm gun of WW II. While it was intended for an AT role, the USMC used it in the Pacific to bust bunkers and for anti-personnel fire. Years ago I read an account (don't recall the title) of a young Marine in the four man crew of a 37mm on Guadalcanal. They used canister to make mincemeat of Japanese infantry attacks.

A bit like the German 3.7cm PAK which was nicknamed "The doorknocker" and which was quite effective in knocking out bunkers. The author of "In Deadly Combat" was a crew member and commander of a 3.7cm PAK gun at the start of Operation Barbarossa.

https://tanks-encyclopedia.com/antita...

In Deadly Combat: A German Soldier's Memoir of the Eastern Front by Gottlob Herbert Bidermann

Poilu: The World War I Notebooks of Corporal Louis Barthas, Barrelmaker, 1914-1918

About 25% in and what puzzles me is just how distant the Officers are in this account. Barthas really has no respect for his leaders. Now I can understand some Officers being useless, and as in Nam deserving a fragging, but ALL of them useless ?

Is this just the French Army ? is this why they mutinied in 1917 after Nivelle's offensive ?

Was the British Army different ? the British certainly have a tradition that the Officers take a patriarchical attitude to the men. I am sure some Officers would be rated poor by men, often for poor tactical sense. In Band of Brothers the removal of their inept Captain is an example.

Is that the difference of 20 years between the wars ? or the difference between the French Army and the US .... with a more democratic tradition.

I think I need to find some British WW1 soldier's narrative to answer these questions, most of my WW1 library is at a higher level than the individual.

But I think most film and drama does not support the idea that 100% of the Officer corps is useless. Take Journey's End, Captain Stanhope may be an alcoholic, but he is also "the best company commander we have", and in the film of the play he is last seen firing a machine gun at the overwhelming German Offensive.

Any thoughts peeps ?

Barthas only mentions a very few officers that he found professional and who cared for the welfare of their men. The majority he seemed to dislike and found useless. I tend to think that he came into the army with that preconceived idea anyhow. I don't think the whole French army was made up of such officers although this has been the only first-hand account of a French soldier of the Great War that I've read so far.

If you are looking for a good book from a British soldier's perspective check out; "There's A Devil In The Drum".

There's a Devil in the Drum by John F. Lucy

Another book to consider is; "Six Weeks" which I am yet to read myself.

Six Weeks: The Short and Gallant Life of the British Officer in the First World War by John Lewis-Stempel

The good Caporal has been signposting his good socialist credentials throughout the book. So come the mutiny of 1917, he'll be front and centre, right? Like hell...

At noon on May 30, there was even an assembly outside the village, to constitute, following the Russian example, a “soviet” composed of three men from each company, which would take control of the regiment.
To my great astonishment, they came to offer me the presidency of this soviet, that’s to say, to replace the colonel—nothing less than that!
That would be quite a sight—me, an obscure peasant who put down my pitchfork in August 1914, commanding the 296th Regiment. That went way beyond the bounds of probability.
Of course I refused. I had no desire to shake hands with a firing squad, just for the child’s play of pretending we were the Russians.
But I did decide to give an appearance of legality to these revolutionary demonstrations. I wrote up a manifesto to give to our company commanders, protesting against the delay in furloughs. It began like this: “On the eve of the offensive, General Nivelle had read to the troops an order of the day saying that the hour of sacrifice had rung. . . . We offered our lives and made this sacrifice for the fatherland but, in exchange, we said that the hour of home leaves had also sounded, a while ago . . . ,” et cetera.
The revolt was therefore placed squarely on the side of right and justice. The manifesto was read out, in a sonorous voice, by a poilu who was perched astride the limb of an oak tree. Fervent applause underscored his last lines.
My vanity was hardly flattered. If they learned that it was I who had drawn up this protest, moderate as it was, my fate was clear: a court-martial, for sure, and possibly twelve Lebel bullets5 dispatched to send me off to another world, long before my appointed hour.

I'm rather pleased I'm finished; as Dmitri said in his review, most of the big events are "just around the bend". And to be truthful, the guy spent the entire book busting my chops. I'd have loved to know what the other guys in his platoons thought of him.