Paths of Glory (26 page)

Zero hour comes, and the barrage opens. The German counter-barrage replies at once, registered to a metre. Deadly machine-gun fire sprays the parapets almost as thickly as does an impenetrable rain. Do they falter? They do not. They advance into the frightful inferno, their numbers thinning out so heart-breakingly fast with each step forward they take.

Férol gets the farthest, way out into the middle of that avenue of death called no-man's-land. There, he finds himself alone. Is he expected to attack the Pimple by himself? No, no one would ask that of a man, it is too senseless. Gentlemen, the accused Férol was no coward!

Langlois, wearing his
médaille militaire
and his
croix de guerre,
is right with his company commander, inextricably caught in his own wire which is ringing to the sound of the enemy machine-gun bullets. His company commander is killed, his company cut to pieces. As he testified himself, he did not take command because there was nothing to take command of—except the dead. He is stopped, he cannot go farther. Gentlemen, the accused Langlois was no coward!

Didier has bad luck, I'll admit. But is he to be branded a coward because a man's body falls on top of him and knocks him out? I wanted to bring witnesses to the conditions which existed in the Number 2 Company frontage, perhaps the worst spot in the sector. They would have told you that the attacking wave was literally mown down like wheat on the lip of the trench by a withering fire. Didier was trying to advance when he was prevented by one of those accidents which might have seemed funny under other circumstances but which, under these, was too significant to be anything but horrible. I also wanted to call witnesses to the fact that he had, prior to the attack, carried out single-handed a dangerous and daring patrol along the enemy wire, that he was considered an ace at that sort of thing by his company commander, unhappily killed a few seconds after he had gallantly led his men to the assault. Gentlemen, the accused Didier was no coward!

What more is there for me to say . . .

PRESIDENT: Nothing. You have already overstayed your time.

ETIENNE: If you please, gentlemen. I know that some examples are wanted, but these men are the wrong ones. Surely it will not be you, honourable judges of a court of military justice, who will contribute to the grotesque irony of condemning these men for a crime which is the antithesis of the qualities they actually displayed and for which they should be decorated?

Gentlemen, convinced of the strong sense of duty which animates your consciences as officers, of the profound sense of justice which rules your consciences as judges, of the pervading feeling of compassion which moves your consciences as men, I commend the destinies of the accused to your generosity of spirit, assured that three French officers of your integrity will not find it possible to act in such a way as to be accessories to what might become a frightful and revolting judicial crime. Thank you for your attention and patience.

PRESIDENT: Mr. Prosecutor.

IBELS: Mr. President and judges of the court martial. I have not my opponent's gift for oratory, and, if I had, I would not use it at this time, considering it, from the point of view of the case for the prosecution, as unnecessary. The accused, one by one, came up and admitted to a failure to advance during an ordered attack. In military law that is, at the very best, called cowardice in the face of the enemy. I therefore confine myself to requesting the court to act in accordance with the provisions of the Code of Military Justice, to find the accused guilty of the charges as stated, and to impose the penalty which is prescribed by the Code.

PRESIDENT: Accused, stand up! Have you anything further to say in your defence?

The prisoners look at
ETIENNE
and he whispers with them.

ETIENNE: The accused Férol says that he is innocent and begs for the mercy of the Court. The accused Langlois says that he is innocent. He asks the Court to take cognizance of his decorations. The accused Didier says that he is innocent, that he is married and has four children, and begs for the mercy of the Court.

PRESIDENT: Very well. The accused will be escorted back to the guard-room. The hearing is closed. The Court will now retire to deliberate.

 

A small group of men were lined up in the courtyard outside the coach house of the château. The sun had dropped behind the buildings and the pigeons were making their pleasant liquid sounds under eaves which were in shadow. Three men, hatless and unarmed, stood in a line at attention. Behind them the guard was at the present arms. Facing them was the prosecutor, flanked by the clerk of the court martial and the sergeant-major. Captain Ibels was reading from a piece of paper.

Regimental Sergeant-Major Boulanger had had some arrangements to make, some orders to give. He had made his arrangements with competence and now, in his office, he was giving his orders with precision to a selected group of First Battalion N.C.O.'s.

“As you know,” he said, “the court martial found the accused guilty and sentenced them to be shot. The executions will take place at eight o'clock in the morning, sharp. The colonel insists that everything must go off without a hitch and with the least possible delay. It is not to be hurried, but there mustn't be any fumbling around. I have been put in charge and made personally responsible for any lack of order or for any mistakes. You can take it from me that I shall pass on any blame, and with interest, to any of you who fail in your duties. These duties, incidentally, are simple enough. Get your note-books out and see that you put down what I say to you.

“Sergeant Gounod, you are appointed to command the prisoners' escort from the guard-house to the execution posts. You will have a guard of twelve men under arms, rifles loaded, bayonets fixed, four men to each prisoner. The four men are to be individually assigned to each prisoner and held responsible for that one prisoner alone in case trouble starts. At any sign of trouble the prisoners are to be instantly covered. If the trouble does not subside at once, the prisoner is to be shot on the spot. If any concerted action gets under way, they are all to be shot or bayoneted. But every effort must be made to get them under control without resorting to shooting. Is that clear?

“No, the prisoners' hands will not be bound until they are at the execution posts. The colonel does not wish to have any unnecessary cruelty inflicted on them. Besides, it would make it more difficult for them to walk.

“The escort is not to exchange a single word with the prisoners except words of command. You will be given a litre of cognac with which to fill your canteen. When you go to fetch the prisoners you are to give each one of them a good swig of it and a cigarette if he wants it. But see that they don't take too much. Don't forget that it will be on an empty stomach—a very empty stomach, if my guess is any good. Then, when the detachment reaches the corner of the wood where it turns onto the parade ground, you are to give them each another swig. That will be their last. Is that clear?

“As soon as this meeting is over, Sergeant Gounod will go to the guard-room and, timing himself carefully, he will walk up to the parade ground at a pace a little slower than the usual marching time. You are to make a note of the exact amount of time it took you to reach the centre of the field near its western edge by the trees. That time, plus eight minutes, is to be deducted from eight o'clock, and that will be the time the escort is to leave with the prisoners from the guard-house. Have you got that all clearly in your mind?

“All right. The quartermaster-sergeant will detail a fatigue of two parties, one to rig up the execution posts at spots which I shall show him, the other to dig the grave, one grave large enough for the three bodies, in the woods behind the execution posts. These same parties are to remain under orders until the business is over. The quartermaster-sergeant will see to it that he has a knife, rope, and blindfolds. The rope is for binding the condemned men to the posts. Their hands are to be tied behind them, then their bodies bound to the posts, and tightly enough to prevent them from falling if they faint or if their knees give way. Number 3 Company will supply this detail.

“Now, as to the firing-squads. Orders are that they are to be formed of the new-class soldiers only. No, I don't know why, but I suppose it is to impress them with a sense of discipline and perhaps to avoid any trouble which might arise from some oldtimer's refusing to fire at a comrade. Yes, I know the regulations say the firing-squads should be from a different regiment or at least from one of the other battalions. But orders are orders, and these come from Division. They know what they're doing, and if they don't it isn't our worry. Anyway, that's beside the point. Furthermore, the colonel wants it so arranged that the squads shall not be from the same companies as the man they are going to execute. Number 1 Company will, therefore, supply the squad for Langlois; Number 4 Company for Didier; Number 2 Company for Férol. Twelve men and a sergeant to each squad, and they are to march separately to the field and to stand apart at the farther end. I will put them into position as soon as the time has come.

“The whole regiment is to be on the field at seven-fifteen, lined up in parade formation at the eastern end. At seven-thirty I shall take over the parade and move the regiment into three-sided hollow square.

“At seven-forty-five the officers will come on the field and take their posts. I shall turn the parade over to the commanding officer.

“As soon as the condemned men have come onto the field and are being bound to the posts, I shall move the firing-squads into position and then report to the commanding officer that all is ready. At his order, the band will ruffle the drums, and then the adjutant will read out the sentence of the court martial. At the end of the reading the drums will be ruffled again. A warrant-officer will give the order to fire. I don't know yet whether the regiment will have to march past the dead bodies or not.

“Any questions . . . ?

“No, there will be no military degradation ceremony. It was apparently overlooked in the orders from Division and the colonel is going to take advantage of the oversight. Any other questions . . . ?

“All right, dismiss!”

 

“In the name of the French people . . .” said Langlois.

“He should have said ‘in the name of the French butchers,'” said Didier.

“To think,” said Langlois, “that, after all, we are the people of France, you and me and Férol, and millions just like us.”

“Don't take it so seriously,” said Férol. “This is the third court martial I've been up against and nothing ever came of any of them except a bit of prison. And prison isn't at all a bad place to be in, especially during a war. We're safe, we get our three squares a day, and nobody bothers us. All we have to do is to sit and wait. A fatigue or two now and then maybe. I tell you, after Algerian clinks, this is luxury. The way you fellows talk, you'd think the end of the world had come.”

“Well, it has for us,” said Didier, “only you don't know it.”

“How do you know it?” Férol asked.

“I read the signs. First, Langlois here is drawn by lot. When they start drawing lots you might as well start drawing your will. Second, Roget picking me. Clever little bastard, all right, to put me out of the way so neatly. You know, I've never had any wish to kill a man, except in the war of course, but I'd give a lot to have Roget cringing at the point of my revolver. And d'you know what I'd do? I'd fill it with five blanks and the last one would be a live round. I'd fire each one of those blanks at him at intervals, and make him die five deaths before the real one. . . .”

“Say, now that's a clever idea,” said Férol, his eyes gleaming with admiration. “How'd you think of it? I must remember it for when I get out. There's a beast of a . . .”

“But can't you get it through your fat head, Férol, that you're not going to get out this time,” said Langlois.

“Oh, you're a crêpe-hanger!”

“Well, didn't that court martial, if you can call it a court martial—didn't it convince you that you haven't a chance?”

“To tell you the truth, boys, I didn't pay much attention to it. I was figuring out if I could make a jump for it out that window which was near me. I'd just about made up my mind to take the chance. The captain was making his speech. I looked around the room to see if anybody was watching. And, Name of God, when I looked back again one of the guards had moved nearer to the window and he had his pig's eyes on me.”