1	<ONLINE MODERN HISTORY REVIEW>               September 1993
     2	
     3	                         ISSN  1181-1151
     4	
     5	Editor's Note:
     6	
     7	     The following article is part of a larger manuscript
     8	     being prepared for publication.  Readers are advised
     9	     that special characters were used to present accented
    10	     letters. A copy of the original file with French
    11	     characters preserved is available upon request.  
    12	     Write to:   ua832@freenet.victoria.bc.ca.  
    13	
    14	
    15	                      Foreign Language Code
    16	
    17	Grave accent:  a`, e`    Cedilla accent:     c~
    18	Acute accent:  a', e'    Circumflex accent:  ^a, ^e, ^i, ^o, ^u
    19	                 ==============================
    20	
    21	
    22	                     COMBATTING THE ELEMENTS
    23	              Mud and Trench Warfare in World War I
    24	
    25	
    26	                                   Roy E. Sandstrom, Ph.D+1+
    27	                                             and
    28	                                   Jacques F. Dubois+2+
    29	                                   
    30	
    31	     The First World War was a great watershed event in European
    32	history which continues to fascinate both professional historians
    33	and the general public.  The so-called Great War began amidst the
    34	cheers and well-wishes of friends and family who shared the
    35	illusion that this new war would be brief and bloodless.  Four
    36	years later, these soldiers returned home to a world eager to
    37	forget the horrible death and destruction which marked fifty-one
    38	months at the front.   
    39	
    40	     World War I was the first great modern war which mobilized
    41	and consumed vast human, physical and financial resources.  In
    42	its wake, it left millions of women without husbands and millions
    43	of children without fathers.  The age of confidence and optimism
    44	which had characterized <Fin de Sie`cle> society gave way to a
    45	deep cultural despair spawned by that war.
    46	
    47	     Veterans of all wars lament the inability or unwillingness
    48	of the civilian population to understand the psychological and
    49	physical realities of combat.  Clear expression of this alien-
    50	ation during and after World War I comes from famous anti-war
    51	novels such as Erick Maria Remarque's <All Quiet on the Western
    52	Front> and Henri Barbusse's <Under Fire>.  This tragic image of
    53	war has been reinforced by the memorable diaries of such writers
    54	as Marc Bloch, Edmund Blunden, Robert Graves, Ernest Junger and
    55	Siegfried Sassoon, among others.  
    56	
    57	     Our understanding of the daily lives of ordinary soldiers,
    58	both British and French, has been enhanced immeasurably by such
    59	scholarly works as Denis Winter's <Death's Men>, Tony Ashworth's
    60	<Trench Warfare> and Jean Norton Cru's <Te'moins>.  All three
    61	authors emphasize the common soldier's fear of death, his sense
    62	of alienation from the home front, his hatred of the war, his
    63	dislike for the General Staff, the absence of heroics in the
    64	account and his grudging admiration for his enemy.
    65	
    66	     The recently-discovered war journal of a French army cap-
    67	tain, M. Le Comte, Henri De Lecluse, is a remarkable addition to
    68	this literature in several ways.  It is a vivid account of four
    69	years of war.  De Lecluse served intermittently on various fronts
    70	from 1914 to 1918, unlike many other soldiers whose front-line
    71	experience was limited to a few months or to a few years.  He
    72	experienced the relatively open, mobile war of 1914 and early
    73	1915, the immobilism and slaughter of 1916-1917 and the final
    74	victory of 1918.  De Lecluse also was a dedicated patriot who
    75	loved his country, hated the enemy and believed in Divine Provi-
    76	dence.  With few exceptions, he dedicated each of his thirty-two
    77	chapters to comrades who had fallen in battle.  
    78	
    79	     As a story-teller and poet, De Lecluse is equal to many of
    80	the more famous WWI memoirists: Bloch, Blunden, Graves and
    81	Sassoon.  Whether on night patrol, entering a deserted village,
    82	slogging through waist-deep mud or attending mass in the front
    83	lines, De Lecluse allows the reader to imagine what the author
    84	must have felt at the time.  Some of his chapters focus on acts
    85	of individual heroism.  Most, however, are devoted to descrip-
    86	tions of ruined villages, stately chateaux, desecrated churches,
    87	night patrols gone awry, visits to cemeteries, artillery bombard-
    88	ments, encounters with the enemy, frustrations with the military
    89	bureaucracy, a winter in Alsace, the death of a pet bull-terrier,
    90	etc.  De Lecluse's first chapter, reprinted here, describes how
    91	something so simple as mud could become a source of sheer terror
    92	for the infantryman.  
    93	
    94	
    95	
    96	
    97	                           CHAPITRE 1
    98	
    99	                           LA BOUE+3+
   100	
   101	
   102	     A la me'moire du Capitaine Bellot Lieutenant du 9e
   103	     Groupe Le'ger mort pour la France.
   104	
   105	     "Dans le secteur d'Arras, au bois de Bertouval" disait
   106	     le communique' du 8 janvier 1915 nous avons d^u, sans
   107	     ^etre attaque's, e'vacuer certains e'le'ments de
   108	     tranche'e ou` les hommes e'taient enlise's jusqu'aux
   109	     e'paules."
   110	
   111	     Ces hommes, c'e'taient les miens, et les territoriaux
   112	     venus nous relever. Je peux en verite dire que, depuis
   113	     ce jour-la`, je sais ce que c'e'taient que "la boue",
   114	     non pas la boue simplement odieuse ou` l'on patauge,
   115	     ou` l'on glisse, celle ou` l'on enfonce jusqu'a` la
   116	     cheville, mais la boue tra^itresse qui vous e'treint et
   117	     vous paralyse, celle ou` l'on se sent disparaitre peu
   118	     a` peu, lentement happe' comme par les sables mouvants
   119	     ou` la vase d'un marais, la boue terrible, "celle qui
   120	     fait peur"!
   121	
   122	     C'e'tait notre premier secteur, un joli de'but!.. Mon
   123	     escadran e'tait poste' au creux d'un vallon, dans une
   124	     tranche'e trace'e a` travers des terres laboure'es,
   125	     lourdes et argileuses. Depuis quatorze heures il
   126	     pleuvait a` verse, l'eau de'gringolait du haut des
   127	     pentes, par la tranche'e transforme'e' en canal, au
   128	     fond de la cuvette ou` nous barbotions. Peu a` peu les
   129	     terres glissaient le long des parapets, obtenant les
   130	     cre'neaux; les parois des boyaux s'e'boulaient par
   131	     places, les abris s'effondraient. Mes hommes,
   132	     grelottants et re'signe's, drappe's tant bien que mal
   133	     dans leurs toiles de tente transforme'es en capuchons,
   134	     courbaient sto‹quement le dos sous l'averse
   135	     torrentielle enfonce's jusqu'aux genoux dans la boue
   136	     gluante....
   137	
   138	     J'e'tais alle' reconna^itre la sape par laquelle nous
   139	     devions regagner l'arrie`re. Je m'y e'tais tra^ine'
   140	     pe'niblement, en plein jour, sans rien pour alourdir ma
   141	     marche. Comment allions-nous faire, la nuit venue,
   142	     pesamment charge's, dans ce terrain qui devenait
   143	     impraticable a` chaque minute? Je me le demandais
   144	     anxieusement, en attendant les territotiaux de la
   145	     rele`ve... D'ailleurs, pourraient-ils passer? De fait,
   146	     a` six heures, dans la nuit de'ja` tre`s noire, je
   147	     n'avais encore vu arriver qu'un capitaine de re'giment
   148	     alpin poste' a` notre droite. Il m'annonc~ait que ses
   149	     sections e'taient bloque'es dans les boyaux, enlise'es,
   150	     qu'on devait se mettre a` trois pour se de'gager les
   151	     uns les autres, et qu'il ne pourrait, lui, relever ses
   152	     camarades.... 
   153	
   154	     Je fais part de la chose autour de moi, ajoutant
   155	     quelques paroles d'un espoir que je ne partage gue`re,
   156	     mais il me faut vraiment faire effort sur moi-m^eme
   157	     pour qu'on ne soupc~onne pas mon de'couragement. Je
   158	     nous vois bloque's dans ce cloaque, et pour combein de
   159	     temps? Sans abris de'sormais, sans ravitaillement
   160	     possible, avec la moitie' au moins de nos armes
   161	     enraye'es et inutilisables!...
   162	
   163	     Pour ajouter a` l'amertume de la situation, on
   164	     m'annonce que les communications te'le'phoniques sont
   165	     coupe'es, puis la temp^ete redoutable, et la pluie
   166	     tourne au de'luge!... Il faut s'accroupir dans le
   167	     ruisseau dangereux qui coule au fond de la tranche'e
   168	     pour laisser passer la rafale!... A tout hasard,
   169	     j'envoie un cycliste en reconnaissance vers notre
   170	     rele`ve sans me demander d'ailleurs comment il
   171	     passera!... Les minutes s'e'coulent, longues comme des
   172	     heures, et voila` que soudain j'entrevois des ombres
   173	     qui viennent dans la nuit, et j'entend la voix de mon
   174	     e'claireur me dire ces mots qui sonnent a` mon oreille
   175	     comme une musique de'licieuse: "Mon capitaine, je vous
   176	     ame`ne les territoriaux.."  Brave garc~on! Je l'aurais
   177	     embrasse'!.. Comment du reste ces gens arrivent-ils? Je
   178	     ne perds pas le temps a` m'en informer.. L'ordre de
   179	     de'part est vite donne', et vite compris, et l'on
   180	     commence a` s'e'couler le long de la tranche'e... Je
   181	     place un par un les nouveaux venus. Les mal-heureux
   182	     enfonceraient dans la boue jusqu'aux cuisses; et je
   183	     fre'mis en pensant que les voila` poste's comme cela au
   184	     moins pour toute la nuit!...
   185	
   186	     J'entre le dernier dans la sape de sortie, comme un
   187	     capitaine qui quitte son navire, en gardant aupre`s de
   188	     moi un de mes jeunes officiers+4+ pour me venir en aide
   189	     dans les enlisements que je pre'vois, et le terrible
   190	     voyage commence!...
   191	
   192	     En file indienne, tout le long de l'interminable boyau,
   193	     sous la pluie battante et le vent qui fait rage, on se
   194	     tra^ine plut^ot qu'on ne marche, tre'buchant a` chaque
   195	     pas, s'appuyant aux parois glissantes qui parfois
   196	     e'boulaient, enfonce's dans la boue toujours jusqu'aux
   197	     genoux, souvent jusqu'a` la ceinture. A chaque instant
   198	     quelqu'un appelle a` l'aide pour sortir ses jambes
   199	     l'une apre's l'autre de la fondrie`re, et de temps en
   200	     temps il faut arracher par poigne'es les paquets de
   201	     glaise qui g^enent nos mouvements...
   202	
   203	     Au bout de trois quarts d'heure environ un a`-coup se
   204	     produit, et la colonne est coupe'e en deux... Le guide
   205	     est parti avec la t^ete, et mes hommes, arrive's a` un
   206	     carrefour, ne savent plus ou` aller... Il faut sortir
   207	     de la` co^ute que co^ute!.. Comme on ne peut se
   208	     de'passer dans le boyau, je me fais hisser sur le
   209	     terre-plein a` travers les tas de glaise. La route est
   210	     perdue!.. Je sais vaguement ou` se trouve la ferme de
   211	     Bertouval, nous allons tƒcher d'y arriver par le terre-
   212	     plein, en franchissant les boyaux que nous
   213	     rencontrerons. Heuruesement la nuit est noire comme de
   214	     l'ancre, les Boches tapis dans leurs trous, car nous
   215	     sommes a` de'couvert, et quelques balles sifflent
   216	     autour de nous. Tant pis! 
   217	
   218	     Tout plut^ot que de rester dans la fondrie`re et
   219	     risquer d'y crever!.. Mais le point ou` nous sommes est
   220	     un vrai de'dale de boyaux et de tranche'es
   221	     abandonne'es!.. On se rassemble sur le terre-plein, en
   222	     se jettant a` plat ventre quand une fuse'e boche vient
   223	     a` nous eclairer. J'ai avec moi et Couespel+5+ un
   224	     peloton et demi environ, pauvre troupeau de'moralise'
   225	     et fourbu, auquel j'adresse quelques paroles de
   226	     recomfort, en les hurlant, car la temp^ete est telle
   227	     qu'on ne s'entend pas, et je prends la direction.
   228	
   229	     En nous guidant avec les e'clats de nos lampes
   230	     e'lectriques, nous cherchons a` sortir de se
   231	     labyrinthe. On de'gringole dans les boyaux en se
   232	     laissant glisser sur le dos dans la vase, on remonte 
   233	     en rampant a` plat ventre, on se heurte a` des culs-de-
   234	     sac ... Je commence a` de'sepe'rer et je l'avoue,
   235	     pendant un instant, j'ai peur, vraiment peur, perdu
   236	     dans la nuit et dans la boue!... Va-t-il falloir
   237	     s'allonger sur le terre-plein, transis de froid et
   238	     de'gouttants d'eau fangeuse, le ventre creux, pour
   239	     attendre le jour? Et apre`s?...
   240	
   241	     Tout a` coup, je me heurte contre un officier envoye'
   242	     de la ferme de la Bertouval au devant des malheureux
   243	     qu'on sait perdus dans cette affreuse nuit. Il nous
   244	     indique le boyau qui doit nous y conduire, et part a`
   245	     la recherche d'autres e'gare's. Ce boyau est d'ailleurs
   246	     devenu une rivie`re, mais nous venons de tant souffrir
   247	     dans la boue e'paisse, que nous e'prouvons une
   248	     sensation de bien-^etre a` marcher dans cette eau
   249	     glaciale qui nous monte a mi-jambes! Au moins on
   250	     avance!.. Mais patatras!.. Je retombe dans une
   251	     fondrie`re!.. En me de'battant, je heurte une e'chelle
   252	     dresse'e contre le talus, signe qu'il faut reprendre le
   253	     terre-plein.. Nous nous hissons un par un O joie! La
   254	     ferme de Bertouval se dessine vaguement dans l'ombre.
   255	     Encore deux boyaux a` franchir, et nous y arriverons.
   256	
   257	     Il y a trois heures que nous marchons, pour faire moins
   258	     d'un kilome`tre!.. Je me fais conduire au commandant
   259	     des tranche'es, et quand je n'encadre dans la porte de
   260	     sa chambre, il recule e'pouvante'...des pieds a` la
   261	     t^ete je repre'sente exactement une statue de glaise.
   262	     Je me nomme et il m'apprend que mes trois autres offi-
   263	     ciers+6+ avec le reste de mes hommes, et dans le m^eme
   264	     e'tat que nous, viennent de passer trois quarts d'heure
   265	     avant moi. Dieu merci! Je n'aurais donc perdu personne!
   266	     Un sergent nous guide jusqu'a` la grand-route, car
   267	     maintenant nous ne voulons plus entendre parler d'autre
   268	     chose, et tant pis pour les risques. Il y a encore a`
   269	     passer une cl^oture, une douve, une tranche'e pleine
   270	     d'eau ou` l'un de mes hommes fait un plongeon
   271	     magistrale, qui importe! Nous nous sentons sauve's, et
   272	     vers onze heures, nous arrivons harasse's, innommable,
   273	     a` Mont Saint-Eloi, ou` nos cuisiniers nous ont
   274	     attendus, et l'on oublie les fondrie`res et les affres
   275	     de la boue devant une bonne soupe chaude que j'aie
   276	     mange'e de ma vie!....
   277	
   278	     Bertouval (Pas-de-Calais)
   279	     8 janvier 1915
   280	
   281	
   282	                           CHAPTER 1
   283	
   284	                           THE MUD+7+
   285	
   286	     In memory of Captain Bellot,+8+ lieutenant of the 9th
   287	     light section, who gave his life for France.
   288	
   289	
   290	          "In the sector of Arras, in the woods of
   291	          Bertouval, men had to be evacuated from some
   292	          trenches even though they were not under attack,
   293	          because they were shoulder deep in mud."  -So read
   294	          a communique written on the 8th of January, 1915.
   295	
   296	
   297	     These ... were my men and the territorial soldiers that
   298	     came to relieve us.  Since that day, I can tell you in
   299	     all sincerity that I know the true definition of the
   300	     word "mud."  I don't mean that slimy mud where you
   301	     slosh around, slip and slide, and sink to your ankles. 
   302	     I am referring to that treacherous substance which
   303	     grabs you and immobilizes you, the one which seems to
   304	     swallow you slowly, little by little, like a swamp or
   305	     quicksand, that horrible mud, "the one which frightens
   306	     you!"
   307	 
   308	     It was our first sector, what a beginning!....  My
   309	     squadron was posted at the bottom of a small valley, in
   310	     a trench dug across heavy and clayey plowed fields.  It
   311	     had been pouring rain for fourteen straight hours and
   312	     the water, running down from the surrounding hills,
   313	     rushed into the trench as if it were a canal and formed
   314	     a pool at our feet.  In a relatively short time the
   315	     earth started to slide, the walls of the trench were
   316	     giving way in places and the shelters were collapsing. 
   317	     My men, shaking from the cold but resigned, wrapped as
   318	     best they could in the canvas of their tents, were
   319	     stoically enduring this torrential downpour, up to
   320	     their knees in the gluey mud....
   321	
   322	     I had gone back to look over the sap+9+ in the trench
   323	     which we needed to take in order to return to the rear. 
   324	     I had reached it with great difficulty even though it
   325	     was daylight and I had not taken my backpack.  How were
   326	     we supposed to make the same trip at night, fully
   327	     packed, in a terrain that was becoming more impassable
   328	     every minute?  I was very worried as I awaited the
   329	     arrival of the replacement troops....  Could they get
   330	     to us?  By six o'clock, night had already fallen, and
   331	     the only person who had made it was the captain of an
   332	     alpine regiment stationed to our right.  He told me
   333	     that his sections were stuck in the communication
   334	     trenches.  Trapped in the mud as they were, it took
   335	     three men to free [one man] and consequently he would
   336	     be unable to relieve his comrades [by himself.]
   337	
   338	     I share the information with those near me while adding
   339	     a few hollow words of encouragement.  I have to make an
   340	     effort to mask my dejection.  I can just see ourselves
   341	     stuck in this cesspool.  Without shelters, with no
   342	     possibility of receiving supplies and, with at least
   343	     half of our weapons jammed and useless, how long could
   344	     we last?
   345	
   346	     To make matters worse, I am told that we have lost
   347	     telephone  communication, and the rains become diluvial
   348	     as the storm gains in intensity!....  We need to crouch
   349	     down in the dangerous stream that flows through the
   350	     trench in order to avoid the strong gusts of wind. 
   351	     Desperate, I send a scout to see if the relieving
   352	     troops are coming, not even thinking [about] how he is
   353	     going to get there!....
   354	
   355	     After a few minutes which seemed liked hours, I see
   356	     some shadows approaching in the night and I hear the
   357	     voice of my scout utter words that are music to my
   358	     ears: "Captain, I am bringing back the troops...." 
   359	     What a brave man!  I could have embraced him!....  I
   360	     wonder how the men were able to make it but I don't
   361	     waste my time asking.  Orders to evacuate are given ...
   362	     and we begin our slow return in the trench.  I tell
   363	     each new troop where to go.  They will be up to their
   364	     thighs in mud in no time.  I shudder at the idea that
   365	     they will be there at least through the night!....
   366	
   367	     Like a captain abandoning ship, I am the last one to
   368	     enter the exit sap.  I have asked one of my young
   369	     officers+10+ to remain next to me in order to help me
   370	     if I get stuck.  The horrible trip begins....
   371	
   372	     One by one,+11+ along the endless communication trench,
   373	     under a torrential rain and a ferocious wind, we drag
   374	     ourselves, tripping at every step, leaning against the
   375	     collapsing side walls, knee deep and sometime waist
   376	     deep in mud.  Someone is constantly calling for help to
   377	     get his legs out of a pot-hole and at times we must dig
   378	     by hand at the clay that immobilizes our every
   379	     movements....  
   380	
   381	     After forty-five minutes, a break occurs in the column
   382	     and the men are split up....  The guide has gone ahead
   383	     with one group, and my men, not knowing which of two
   384	     trenches to take, can no longer advance.  Cost what
   385	     may, we must get out of here.  Since it is impossible
   386	     for two people to pass each other in the trench, I ask
   387	     my men to help me get out above ground.  We have lost
   388	     our way!....  I vaguely know where the Bertouval farm
   389	     is located; we must try to get there through the field
   390	     by crossing the communication trenches that we might
   391	     encounter.  Fortunately for us who are now unprotected,
   392	     the night is pitch black, the Boches+12+ are huddled in
   393	     their holes, and a few bullets are whistling around us. 
   394	     We have got to go.  Anything is better than staying in
   395	     this pot-hole and taking a chance on getting
   396	     killed!....  The place where we are is a labyrinth of
   397	     communication trenches and abandoned trenches.
   398	
   399	     We gather above the ground only to dive back in the mud
   400	     when a German flare burst above our heads.  Between
   401	     Couespel+13+ and myself, we have approximately a
   402	     platoon and a half, a poor demoralized and worn out
   403	     bunch of men, to which I address a few comforting words
   404	     which I must yell to be heard above the raging storm. 
   405	     I take the lead.
   406	
   407	     With the help of our pocket lamps, we are trying to
   408	     find our way out of this maze.  We tumble into the
   409	     communication trenches by sliding in the mud on our
   410	     backs, we climb back out by crawling on our stomachs. 
   411	     We keep running into dead ends....  I am beginning to
   412	     lose hope.  At one time, I admit to being afraid,
   413	     really afraid, lost as we are in the night and in the
   414	     mud!....  Will we have to lie face down on the ground,
   415	     chilled to the bone and drenched in the swampy water
   416	     while waiting for daylight to come?  What will happen
   417	     then?....
   418	
   419	     Suddenly, I run into an officer sent by the Bertouval
   420	     farm to come to the rescue of those poor souls lost in
   421	     this dreadful night.  He indicates to us which
   422	     communication trench to take and goes on to look for
   423	     other men that have gotten lost.  The trench has become
   424	     a river, but after all the suffering in the mud we are
   425	     almost glad to be walking in the icy water which comes
   426	     up to our knees.  At least we are making ground!.... 
   427	     Splash!....  I fall into a pot-hole.  While struggling
   428	     to get out I feel a ladder leaning against the side, an
   429	     indication that I must again leave the trench.  We
   430	     climb out one by one.  What a pleasant sight!  The
   431	     outline of the Bertouval farm can be seen in the
   432	     darkness.  Two more trenches to cross and we will be
   433	     there.
   434	
   435	     We have been walking for three hours to cover less than
   436	     a kilometer!..  I ask to be taken to the commander of
   437	     the trenches and when I stand in the doorway of his
   438	     room, he is taken aback.... From head to toe I resemble
   439	     a clay statue.  I give him my name and he tells me that
   440	     my other three officers+14+ and the rest of my men had
   441	     arrived forty-five minutes sooner looking exactly as I
   442	     did.  Thank God!  I will not have lost any of my men! 
   443	     A sergeant leads us to the main road because, in spite
   444	     of the risk, we don't want to go back any other way. 
   445	     Only a fence, a small moat, and a trench filled with
   446	     water [into which] one of my men takes a head-long
   447	     dive, stand in our way.  We feel safe and we arrive
   448	     exhausted at Mount Saint-Eloi at around eleven o'clock. 
   449	     Our cooks have waited for us and we forget all about
   450	     the pot-holes and the throes of the mud in front of the
   451	     best hot soup that I have ever eaten in my life!....
   452	
   453	     Bertouval (Pas-de-Calais)
   454	     8 January 1915
   455	
   456	                 ============================= 
   457	                             <NOTES>
   458	
   459	
   460	     +1+Sandstrom is an associate professor of French history at
   461	the University of Northern Iowa in Cedar Falls.  All rights are
   462	reserved.  
   463	
   464	     +2+Dubois is an assistant professor of French at the
   465	University of Northern Iowa.
   466	
   467	     +3+The authors wish to thank Ms. Charlotte Kelsey, a
   468	graduate student in French at the University of Illinois at
   469	Champagne-Urbana, for careful proof-reading of the original
   470	transcription from the hand-written manuscript.
   471	
   472	     +4+Lieutenant a` mon escadran, passe' au 2e zouaves en mars
   473	1915, nomme' capitaine, disparu a` l'attaque de la c^ote 344
   474	(Meuse) 25 novembre 1917. Presume' mort.
   475	
   476	     +5+Lieutenant Couespel du Menil, tue' depuis.
   477	
   478	     +6+Sous-Lieutenant Couespel du Menil, passe' dans l'infan-
   479	terie en mai 1915, et tue' peu apre`s.
   480	
   481	     +7+Lieutenant Bellot, S. Lieutenant de Durat, S. Lieutenant
   482	de Peyronnet.
   483	
   484	     +8+Translated by Dubois and edited by Sandstrom.
   485	
   486	     +9+Lieutenant in my squad, transferred to the 2nd zouaves in
   487	March 1915, promoted to captain, disappeared in the attack on
   488	hill 344 (Meuse) 25 November 1917.  Presumed dead.
   489	
   490	     +10+A "sap" is normally a crude, shallow trench which
   491	usually stretches from the forward trench toward enemy lines. 
   492	Here, De Lecluse apparently is referring to a shallow
   493	communications trench.
   494	
   495	     +11+The original term was "Indian file," a term which may no
   496	longer be familiar to some readers and may carry perjorative
   497	connotations today not intended by the author at that time.
   498	
   499	     +12+A perjorative label for the Germans.  Roughly, it means
   500	"wood-heads."
   501	
   502	     +13+Second-lieutenant Couespel du Menil, transferred to the
   503	infantry in May 1915, and shot soon thereafter.
   504	
   505	     +14+Lieutenant Bellot, Second-lieutenant de Deurat, Second-
   506	lieutenant de Peyronnet.
   507	
   508	
   509	                     <A SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY>
   510	
   511	     The following books represent some of the best books on
   512	World War I from the perspective of the daily lives of ordinary
   513	soldiers. 
   514	
   515	Ashworth, Tony. <Trench Warfare, 1914-1918: the Live and Let Live
   516	     System>. London: Holmes and Meier, 1980.
   517	
   518	Audoin-Rouzeau, Ste'phane. <Men at War, 1914-1918: National 
   519	     Sentiment and Trench Journalism in France during the
   520	     First World War>.  Providence, R.I.: Berg,  1992.
   521	
   522	Blunden, Edmond. <Undertones of War>. Garden City, N.Y.: Double
   523	     day, Doran & Company, 1929.
   524	
   525	Cru, Jean Norton. <War Books: A Study in Historical Criticism>. 
   526	     Edited, Partially Translated, and with a Foreward by
   527	     Stanley Pincetl, Jr. and Ernest Marchand. San Diego,
   528	     Ca.: San Diego State University Press, 1976.
   529	
   530	Fussell, Paul. <The Great War and Modern Memory>. N.Y.: Oxford 
   531	     University Press, 1975.
   532	
   533	Graves, Robert. <Goodbye to All That>. Garden City, N.Y.:
   534	     Doubleday, 1957.
   535	
   536	Leed, Eric J.  <No Man's Land: Combat and Identity in World War 
   537	     I>. N.Y.: Cambridge University Press, 1979.
   538	
   539	Mosse, George. <Fallen Soldiers: Reshaping the Memory of the 
   540	     World Wars>.  N.Y.: Oxford University Press, 1990.
   541	
   542	Sassoon, Siegfried. <Sherston's Progress>. Garden City, N.Y.:
   543	     Doubleday, Doran, 1936.
   544	
   545	Smith, Michael Douglas. <Poets and Poems of the First World War:
   546	     the English>. Washington, D.C.: University Press of
   547	     America, 1978.
   548	
   549	Winter, Denis. <Death's Men: Soldiers of the Great War>. London:
   550	     Allen Lane (Penguin Books), 1978.
   551	
   552	
   553	Copyright: 1993
   554	          Roy E. Sandstrom
   555	          Jacques F. Dubois
   556	
   557	                        =================
   558	                         Note to Readers
   559	
   560	Additional information about this document can be obtained from
   561	the authors.  Please direct inquiries to:
   562	
   563	
   564	Roy E. Sandstrom, Ph.D.
   565	Associate Professor of History
   566	
   567	Department of History                 Office: (319) 273-2362 
   568	330 Seerley Hall                      Home:   (319) 277-6785
   569	University of Northern Iowa           Internet: Sandstrom@Uni.Edu
   570	Cedar Falls, Iowa 50614-0701
   571	U.S.A.