Chapter 5 (Françis Bonnefoy)
The Maginot-line. France's last line and best fortified line of defence that stretched from the Atlantic coast down to the alps. It was a line of bunkers and strong holds along the French boarder and it was said to be an invincible line. In any normal scenario of warfare, it could not be breached by any army – or so they said. Françis didn't doubt the strength of the Maginot-line or the people that were told to hold it. It wasn't just the French army that was told to guard the positions, it was an effort that was supported by both a Belgium and British force.
Françis' First Army had received the order to fortify the stretch of line right to the south of the British area. However, the parts of the Maginot-line that were lying right next to Belgium were said to be rather unlikely to be targeted by the Wehrmacht. Even though several divisions were stationed there, it was far less fortified than the parts of the Maginot-line that were directly facing Germany. It was said to be more likely that the Germans would try to retake 'lost' areas like the Elsass-region before moving towards Paris.
In trains the hundreds of soldiers were taken north, the entire First Army. Françis walked up to the train he would have to board next to the soldiers of his company. If he had to describe the mood, he would have called it excited. Hopeful and joyful. He could hear the people standing around them chanting their national anthem.
Allons enfants de la patrie! La jour de gloire est arrivé! Contre nous de la tyrannie, l'etendard sanglant est levé! Entendez-vous dans les campagnes , mugir ces féroces soldats? Ils viennent jusque dans nos bras, égorger nos fils, nos compagnes! Aux armes, citoyens! Formez vos bataillons! Marchons, marchons! Qu'un sang impur! Abreuve nos sillons.
This newfound unity, this newfound strength, it felt unreal to Françis. It was like the men that were being taken to the front were already heroes, even though they have never shot a bullet aimed at a German. But this pride they all felt, this pride bound them together. There was no longer an 'I', there was only an 'us'.
Françis watched the crowd cheering at them when all the soldiers in the wagons waited for them to get moving. The people in and outside the wagons yelled in unity: Nous détruisons Paris, nous détruisons la tyrannie. Françis tried to memorise as many faces as he could: The young woman with deep brown hair, big eyes and small lips. The little boy with light brown hair and dark eyes, who looked like he was staring at something supernatural. The old man whose eyes had this pride to them that told Françis this man had been, years ago, in his position: A soldier. "Why are you staring at them, Françis?" Henri asked a bit confused, "Do you know them?" "In fact, I have never seen then before… but if I need a reminder of why I am fighting, I want to remember their faces. I want to remember who I am defending when I am lying in a trench with a rifle in my hand" Françis replied and smiled: "I could imagine that helps to keep us fighting, non? Not to think of us, but to think of them." After he finished his sentence, the train started moving slowly. The cheers grew louder as the soldiers started to move away from them. "Isn't it unusual? To take off and not knowing when we will return?" Théo asked, who was, too in the carriage of Françis and Henri. Françis didn't reply anything. After some moments, he said: "How did your families react to your departure?" "Not much, sad but proud" Théo replied. "Told me to write them" Henri answered, "Yours?" "I told them to leave Paris." The two men in front of Françis stared at him: "What? Why?!" "We have relatives in Switzerland. I know we will defeat the Wehrmacht, but what if they bomb Paris nonetheless? They bomb every major city in their way and there is nothing I can do to protect them!" Françis replied unusually harshly. There was something in the faces of the two men that told Françis that, even though they understood him to a degree, they were shocked. Leaving the country – in fear of the enemy. "…So, they are in Switzerland?" Henri asked dryly. "If they follow my plea, yes. No matter what happens to us, or France, for that matter, I don't want to worry about them. It's a selfish reason, but I want to know that I did everything in my power to protect them" Françis nodded. He didn't doubt that they would be victorious. He just didn't understand the mind of the enemy – and to know your enemy is just as crucial than to know yourself in warfare.