Traces of La Grande Guerre in the Cemeteries of Paris: (2) Meeting the Dead

This is the second part of a two-parter on traces of la Grande Guerre in the cemeteries of Paris. In the first part, it was all about how those vestiges in Paris (but also, indeed, in any French community’s cemetery) have been shaped by people, by the Army and the State and by wealth, influence and status. Now, through real encounters in the cemeteries of Père-Lachaise, Montparnasse and Passy, what’s been shared so far helps explain the discoveries waiting for you.

Père-Lachaise

A cobbled road rises between two lines of tombs at Père-Lachaise Cemetery. There are grass borders on either side of the road. Grass grows between the cobbles. A blue sky and white fluffy clouds on a day in September.

Le Cimetière du Père-Lachaise is on the western edge of the eastern 20e arrondissement and we’ve got a useful guide waiting for us. With this blog, there seems little point in re-writing existing resources available online unless they need it because they contain errors of fact, obvious gaps or there’s no comparable resource available that can be drawn on. The usual criteria to go on is ‘English-language resource’ but, sometimes, the information is so readily available and intended as helpful that it’s wilful stupidity not to draw on it. Such is the case with le site des Amis et Passionnés du Père Lachaise (APPL) and its pages on la Grande Guerre 1914-1918, which is where many of the links in the next few paragraphs will lead you.

Père-Lachaise is reassuringly full of familiar names for the British and Americans. You can find all manner of celebrities you actually know (like Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison) are buried there and if anyone mentions other ‘famous names’, there’s a chance you’ve heard of them (Frédéric Chopin, Edith Piaf, Honoré de Balzac, Sarah Bernhardt, Georges Bizet, Camille Pisarro, Georges Seurat, Marcel Proust, Olivia de Havilland and blah blah blah). Get the idea? It’s where you would want to be seen dead.

It’s the same for ‘celebs’ of la grande guerre. There’s Guillaume Apollinaire and Henri Barbusse and the politician Joseph Caillaux, whose attempts to find a peaceful way out of the war for France found him cast as “l’homme de la défaite” and tried and found guilty of treason. All this after his second wife, Henriette, had escaped the guillotine after shooting dead the editor of Le Figaro newspaper in what the jury decided was a crime passionel.

Barbusse’s grave carries a tribute « À la mémoire de notre camarade, pour nos années de combat commun » from fellow members of l’Association républicaine des anciens combattants (A.R.A.C.) (of which he was co-founder and president) – one of a number of French old comrade associations – in this case closely linked to the French Communist Party. The complicated array of associations des anciens combattants and their connections to the politics of the 1920s and 1930s deserve a whole blog post of its own.

Outside of writers and politicians, two of those who might be thought as ‘greats’ of the war buried in the cemetery are Gustave-Auguste Ferrié and Hyacinthe Jean Vincent. In both cases, their work had an impact that went far beyond their war work. Vincent features prominently in this blog post. In the slide show below, you can see his grave and the plaque that honours his memory and achievements. Ferrié’s grave features perhaps the most understated acknowledgement of his incredibly important work – the tribute from the lycée named in his honour: « en Hommage au Général et Savant ». Gustave-Auguste Ferrié’s contribution to France’s war effort through his work on wireless technologies and radiotelegraphy is another thing that deserves a blog post of its own – something for the future. An important engineer whose général rank came from his hugely important technological work.

There are other Great War generals here: Pierre Guignabaudet and Paul François Grossetti both died during the war – one of wounds received from a shell burst, the other from dysentery. Guignabaudet’s grave features a fine relief portrait of him in Adrian helmet. On the other hand, Joseph Louis Andlauer, Étienne André Bapst, Charles Théodore Brécard, Gustave Paul Lacapelle and Raymond Sabattier all survived the war and were buried in family plots. But Père-Lachaise is, as previously indicated, the last resting place of the great and the good and its diverse population reflects the breadth of experiences of the war. There are officers from well-to-do families, non-commissioned officers and ‘ordinary’ soldiers to support this.

Among them is Sergent Henri Ernest Sevalle, a reservist who rejoined the colours of the 37e Régiment d’infanterie on 12 August 1914 and who was killed on 11 or 12 October 1914 in the fighting at Foncquevillers (Somme) – a place many will know for associations with the British fighting on the Somme in 1916. Sevalle’s matricule militaire details that his remains were “buried in the garden behind the Gendarmerie 20 metres from the house at Foncquevillers”. His body’s here because, either during or after the war, his was one of the bereaved families that pressed the authorities to allow them to recover the remains of their loved one and bury them in the family vault. 

The bodies of brothers Marcel and Maurice Dupont (Maréchal des Logis, 7e Dragons and Sergent, 154e Régiment d’infanterie respectively) lie beneath a headstone showing the two in Adrian helmets in profile. Marcel died in April 1917 from wounds received in an accident while taking part in a training course for bombers in the use of grenades. His younger brother had died almost two years previously (18 July 1915) in fighting at Bois de la Gruerie (known as « le Bois de la Tuerie » in 1915 a deadly location). Beside both names are croix de guerre – each with an étoile of worn and indeterminate colour. Maurice’s service record mentions the posthumous award of the médaille militaire, but no CdeG. In Marcel’s case, however, it’s clear his star is silver having received a citation à l’ordre de la division in July 1916 for taking charge of a group of men dispersed by an enemy bombardment and leading them to a support position, though under intense fire.

  • A memorial in a church in front of a stained-glass window

Civilian Casualties of War

All the cemeteries featured in this post are primarily non-military in nature. So far, regarding Père-Lachaise, the focus has been on those who served in the military who are buried and remembered there. However, Père-Lachaise also has reminders that the war produced many civilian casualties. On Good Friday (« le Vendredi Saint »), 1918 (29 March), the church of Saint-Gervais Saint-Protais in the rue des Barres in the 4ème Arrondissement (the Marais) was struck by a German long-range artillery shell whilst a Mass was in progress. There were 91 dead and 68 injured among the congregation. Many were women. Among those victims of this incident buried at Père-Lachaise are Héloïse Strehler, Marie Thérèse Brisset de Morcour, Claudine Martin, Julie Marie Sophie Mouchet and her husband, Léonce. In this case, most are family tombs.

Also, in Division 89 of the cemetery are the graves provided by the City of Paris for the victims of two further catastrophes of war involving civilian casualties – the explosion of the grenade factory on rue de Tolbiac (October 20, 1915) in which 46 dead and 97 injured (again there were many women among the casualties), and victims of the attack by a German Zeppelin on the quartier de Ménilmontant on the night of January 29, 1916, resulting in an estimated 64 victims: 26 dead and 32 to 38 injured.

Montparnasse Cemetery – something tangible?

The windmill (le Moulin de la Charité) at Montparnasse cemetery.

At this point, let’s switch attention to Montparnasse in the south of the city. Montparnasse, too, has its share of ‘names’: Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir, Man Ray, Samuel Beckett, Jacques Chirac, the composer Camille Saint-Saëns, Charles Baudelaire, Susan Sontag, Jane Birkin, Serge Gainsbourg, Guy de Maupassant … (I’m trying to score hits across the board here). Here, there’s another guide we can draw upon waiting to help us in the form of « Héros de la Grande Guerre au cimetière du Montparnasse » available as a PDF from the website of the author, Philippe Landru. Landru has also produced a similar guide for Père-Lachaise. Having one of these guides with you is useful, but don’t just follow them. You’ll deny yourself the opportunity of making your own discoveries.

For example, one of the most significant individuals buried at Montparnasse, and a veteran of the Great War, Alfred Dreyfus isn’t mentioned in this guide. The man at the centre of the political scandal that divided the French Third Republic between 1894 and 1906: « L’Affaire Dreyfus ». A man arrested for crimes he didn’t commit and degraded as an army officer in front of his former comrades. A man who many in the army insisted was guilty and who denied the possibility of his innocence – in many cases because he was a Jew. A man who spent over four years imprisoned on l’île du Diable in French Guiana and, ultimately, survived to have his innocence proved and to recover his honour and position and continue his career. The same Alfred Dreyfus who, in the First World War, was a reservist artillery officer and saw action on the Chemin des Dames in Spring 1917.

While my photographs fail to do justice to the monument to Adolphe Pégoud, the first French ‘ace’ of the war who’d brought down six aircraft before he was shot down himself on the last day of August 1915 by one of his former pupils, Unteroffizier Walter Kandulski, I’ve included the ones I did take because they give me a reason to post a picture of his (seemingly not-lucky-enough) mascot1 now on display in the musée de l’Armée. His monument also tells us he completed « le premier looping de l’histoire de l’aviation ».

  • The grave of one of the most significant individuals buried at Montparnasse, and a veteran of the Great War, Alfred Dreyfus - buried with other members of his family and his descendants.
  • A not very good photograph of the memorial to Adolphe Pégoud. There's shadows and trees and a bad photographer
  • An even worse photo of the same monument to Adolphe Pégoud
  • Base of the Pégoud memorial
  • A stuffed toy penguin. Innocent witness to a tragedy?
  • Memorial including a photograph to Geneviève Hennet de Goutel
  • Geneviève Hennet de Goutel memorial plaque and photograph
  • The grave of Louis Verlhac, aspirant of 162e RI, mort pour la France (mplf) in March 1918
  • Photograph of the deceased on the grave of l'aspirant Louis Verlhac.
  • Representations of the médaille militaire (left) and croix de guerre avec étoile en vermeil et palme. They are discoloured and have leached verdigris.

A cemetery visitor might not be drawn to the memorial plaque and, therefore, the story of Geneviève Hennet de Goutel without Landru’s guide. Describing her as « Une infirmière de talent… », we learn details that are on her grave marker, but more too. Infirmière-major (Staff Nurse) at la Société de Secours
aux Blessés Militaires
(the Relief Society for Wounded Soldiers), hers is a story of France’s involvement in the war in the Balkans against the Central Powers. She was awarded the French croix de guerre and the Romanian Crucea Regina Maria (Queen Mary’s Cross, which rewarded those who contributed to the care of the wounded and the sick and those who distinguished themselves through their sanitary activity and service in time of war or epidemic), as well as the médaille d’honneur des épidémies – a French distinction for service in the fight against disease and epidemics. She herself fell victim to typhus in March 1917 while at Jassy in Romania, where she had established a hospital. There’s a good deal more in the guide.

The grave of (Fernand) Louis Verlhac, aspirant of 162e RI, MPLF in March 1918 represents one of the sadder aspects of an already-sad situation. As you can see from the photographs I’ve posted, his grave has his portrait photograph and representations of his médaille militaire and croix de guerre (notice the latter has a star and palm – a citation at corps level (« une étoile vermeille » according to his matricule militaire) and an army citation (the palm). But there’s clearly no one now taking care of this grave. Verlhac’s body was exhumed from a grave in what may be “Minorville”^ (I’d originally thought Lironville) – presumably at the request of his family. A dreadful irony then that in a nécropole nationale near the old front line his grave would be maintained by the state. Now, it seems there’s no one who cares enough to tend it.

Extract from a document that reads « Inhumé cimetière de (?) Minorville »

Equally sad is the shattered stone recording the death of Jean Rambach « sous Verdun »* on 8 May 1916. The upper half of the stone is (perhaps irreparably) damaged but an enamel plaque bearing Jean’s name and dates of birth and death survives. And from this we learn that maréchal des logis Jean (Isaac Edmond) Rambach of 12e Régiment d’artillerie died a day short of his 20th birthday.

  • The grave of le général Augustin Dubail
  • Wooden cross grave marker attached to a wall and bearing a plaque with inscription and a red rosette or poppy

However, even more obvious connections to the war are what inevitably draw the eye, and there are two things Montparnasse has particular examples of: stained glass and wooden crosses.

The stained or coloured glass of the tomb ‘Lazare – Lion – Famille Alfred Cahen’ illuminates the incredibly detailed and lifelike marble bust of le sous-lieutenant Armand Cahen (as shown in the header image for this article), which shows his regiment’s number on his collar tabs, the étoile on the ribbon of his croix de guerre and the fourragère on his left shoulder. The latter was awarded to Armand’s unit, 59e Régiment d’artillerie de campagne, in December 1918. Armand Cahen died at Maule (78), south-west of Paris in 1920. He’s likely, then, shown in his uniform from that date. His likeness is an example of an aspect of the cemeteries that I also saw. The tribute to the héro sometimes dominates the family history of the tomb or vault. I think this says something of the significance attached to loss in the cataclysmic conflict that was the First World War.

It’s also evident with the Olchanski vault. Here a stained-glass window imagines the moment on 6 June 1918 when le capitaine Jacques Olchanski of the 99e RI was killed leading his unit in the attack (cleverly, the German defenders of the trench being attacked are almost devoid of colour, except grey). One corner of the image is a portrait of Olchanski. Inside the entrance is a sort of framed slate engraved with details of Olchanski’s service and one of his citations (he gained 5). I’ve never seen anything similar and wonder if anyone else has. A marble plaque (not posted) also provides more detail.

Another of these vitraux patriotiques features as part of the individual tomb dedicated to le sous-lieutenant (Jacob) Marcel Suss – a former pupil of the elite school for engineers and scientists, the École Centrale des Arts et Manufactures de Paris. Suss (‘Süss’ in his matricule militaire) was an officer with 14e régiment d’artillerie during the First Battle of the Marne when he was killed on 9 September 1914.

There are generals buried in Montparnasse just as there are at Père-Lachaise. Augustin Dubail was a former Chief of Staff of the Army and, under Joffre, commander of le Groupe d’armées de l’Est, sacked as a consequence of the German attack on Verdun in February 1916, although he’d expressed repeated concerns over the state of the defences there. He was later Military Governor of le camp retranché de Paris. His status at Montparnasse as a general who held high office and who served during both the War of 1870 and the First World War is undermined by a général whose early death in the war and its circumstances and commemoration have a far greater visual impact. And it’s a cross that achieves this.

That general was (Marie Joseph) Eugène Bridoux, commander of the 5e division de cavalerie on the outbreak of war who, on 17 September 1914, was shot and killed by men of a German cyclist unit while reconnoitring by car in an area of fighting. His grave at Montparnasse remarkably still bears the remains of the cross that marked his original place of burial. It’s exposed to the elements and in a ragged condition – a remarkable survivor. For now.

However, Montparnasse can surpass even itself with another wooden cross – the original grave marker – in the family vault entrance (and, so, more protected from the elements) of le lieutenant Léon André Louis Bernard of the 7ème compagnie of the 102e Régiment d’infanterie, where one can still read, traced in black ink on the wood, his name and the number of the ambulance (6/4) where he died of his injuries at Verdun on 17 September 1916.

Finally, if you think these wooden crosses are a ‘Great War thing’, take time at Montparnasse to find the memorial to Aspirant Jean-Pierre Crémieux-Bach and Pierre Pupin.

The cemetery at Passy – Under the eye of la Tour Eiffel

The monument to Henry Farman on his grave at Passy Cemetery.  A relief of Farman hunched over the very elementary controls of one of his aircraft. There's also another relief portrait in profile of Farman in later life. 
The monument also says « Henry Farman a donné des Ailes au Monde ».

But now time to move on to le Cimetière de Passy which is on a raised level behind the rather-ignored Monument à la Gloire des armées françaises designed by Paul Landowski (who’s buried in the cemetery) is in a district described as ‘chic’. It’s definitely a cemetery with cachet – although why anyone needs that when they are dead is something I don’t understand. The names are sometimes more obscure but include Bảo Đại, the last Emperor of Vietnam, Alexandre Millerand – ministre de la Guerre on the outbreak of the First World War and later Président du Conseil des ministres and, ultimately, Président de la République française, the painter Édouard Manet, the composers Claude Debussy and Gabriel Fauré, Marcel Renault (of the motor company), There are actresses (actors if you prefer) and anarchists, and socialites and socialists, industrialists and novelists. Regarding other Great War connections, this was where Maurice Genevoix was buried until he was panthéonisé in 2020. I missed the grave of Maurice Gamelin – probably better known for his role in the Second World War but a member of Joffre’s staff and, subsequently, a divisional commander in the Great War. Philippe Bunau-Varilla is also buried here, as is Henry Farman, the aviation pioneer. Le général Charles Huntziger, known as a Vichy general and the man who signed the 22 June 1940 Armistice with Nazi Germany in the name of France in the same railway carriage where the Armistice of 11 Novmber 1918 had been signed, is also buried here. In the 1914-1918 war he was chef du bureau d’opérations at the headquarters of the Allied Expeditionary Force on the Front d’Orient (the Salonika Front). 

At Passy, the monument to the Wessbecher brothers, André and Henry is simple but demands a closer look. A cross with the date ‘1918’ and short inscription « Pour Toi France ». But, beneath it are the two deceased men’s ‘biographies’. In the case of André, there’s much more here than in his matricule militaire: the award of médaille militaire and croix de guerre, his service in the air service and even the manner of his death in June 1918 while flying low attacking enemy troops on the ground. In Henry’s case, death came in September 1918, although he’d previously been wounded and gassed. The monument records he was a chevalier de la légion d’honneur and had been awarded the croix de guerre. It seems from the cemetery records (digitised and available via the Geneanet website), that both brothers were originally buried elsewhere, before being re-buried in January 1921 at Passy.

Sometimes, the traces of les morts de la grande guerre are quite ephemeral. Digging deeper can reveal hidden histories. The family tomb inscription for bank employee and maréchal des logis Paul (Louis Fernand) Marcoux, tells us he was mort pour la France at Flaucourt on the Somme on 7 July 1916, but makes no mention of his brigade citation or the posthumous award of the médaille militaire in December 1920.

I photographed the headstone of (Georges) Robert Nivelle – the man who was généralissime and commandant en chef des armées françaises on the Western Front from December 1916 to May 1917 and the man most notably remembered for the military operation on the Chemin des Dames that began in April 1917 that’s usually given his name and that failed so badly to achieve its aims. Nivelle died in 1924. I should have realised, however, that Nivelle’s body was exhumed and re-interred at Les Invalides in 1931.

  • The inscriptions to two Jacques Petit Le Roy - one killed in the FWW, the other in the SWW

Throughout these cemetery visits, I was often struck by stories that went across the years, wars and even centuries. At Passy, there’s an example in the stories of two Lieutenants, both called Jacques Petit Le Roy. One being the uncle of the other. The first, (Albert Marie) Jacques, was an officer in 155e RI, Chevalier de la Légion d’Honneur and croix de guerre when, on 29 January 1915, he was killed by a bullet whilst in the front line « environ 500 m à droite de la route de Binarville à Vienne-le-Château » – another victim of « le Bois de la Tuerie ». His body was never recovered. His nephew, Jacques (Albert André Serge), was a 28-year-old member of the Forces Françaises de l’Interieur (FFI) – the combined military forces of various elements of the Second World War ‘French Resistance’ – who had fought in 1939-40. In August 1944, he was killed by a German patrol as he returned from delivering a message from le général Jacques Chaban-Delmas, responsible for military co-ordination between the FFI and Inter-Allied high command, to le général Philippe Leclerc, whose armoured columns were pushing into the suburbs of Paris while an armed uprising was struggling against the Germans occupying the city. There’s a road, Rue du Lieutenant Petit le Roy, named in his honour at Chevilly-Larue, where he was killed. It joins Rue de l’Adjudant-Chef Dericbourg, named after the member of Leclerc’s staff who was killed alongside Petit le Roy.

The last encounter with the dead of Passy Cemetery I want to mention is with Aspirant Jean (Ernest Claude) Bluzet of 232e RI, who was already the holder of the médaille militaire and the croix de guerre when he died of wounds at Ambulance 9/10, Villers-Marmery (51) at the age of 19 on 27 May 1917, and, more specifically, with his father, le colonel René(-Marie-Philippe) Bluzet, Commandant, la 117e Brigade, Officier de la Légion d’Honneur, croix de guerre, who pre-deceased Jean, dying of his wounds at Ambulance 1/59, Morville-sur-Seille (54) on 11 October 1915 at the age of 44.

I’d intended including the Bluzets as an example of father and son service and sacrifice, but also because of the attractive memorial with its Latin “Manibus Date Lauros Plenis” (“Give me armfuls of laurels”, perhaps). However, while putting together this post, I started reading Henry Morel-Journel’s Journal d’un officier de la 74e Division d’infanterie et de l’armée française d’Italie (1914-1918) and, by an amazing coincidence, after adding the Bluzets to the list of stories to cover, the next time I read Morel-Journel’s Journal, it was this I read:

Gelant dans la tranchée, nous nous retirons dans un abri souterrain en forme de tramway. Assis face à face sur des banquettes de terre, nous composons un groupe pittoresque ; dans le fond, deux de mes camarades qui ont passé une nuit blanche, sommeillent ; en face d’eux, le colonel de notre artillerie et un de ses chefs d’escadron, enveloppés dans leurs grands manteaux, semblent des figures hiératiques. Le général, lui, la bouche souriante, la cigarette à la main, est assis dans ce trou avec des attitudes de confortable élégance, comme dans un fauteuil de fumoir. Il écoute le lieutenant-colonel Bluzet, commandant notre 223e régiment — fin, blond, la figure d’un capitaine — nous raconter ses campagnes.

Morel-Journel, Henry. Journal d’un officier de la 74e Division d’infanterie et de l’armée française d’Italie (1914-1918) (French Edition) (p. 111). FeniXX réédition numérique. Kindle Edition.

« fin, blond, la figure d’un capitaine. » This was November 1914. Eagerly, I read on:

Le colonel Bluzet, au sortir de Saint-Cyr, a passé douze ans dans l’infanterie coloniale ; il faisait partie de la colonne Joffre qui a pris Tombouctou. Il nous parle des Touaregs, de leurs femmes aux traits purs qui ont le visage découvert tandis que les hommes sont voilés, parce qu’une fois les femmes d’une tribu repoussèrent un ennemi devant lequel les hommes avaient fui.

Morel-Journel, Henry. Journal (p. 112). FeniXX réédition numérique. Kindle Edition.

Reading back, I found this was the « fou » Bluzet (according to his divisional commander, général Louis Bigot), whose telegram had sent news of the German withdrawal from Lunéville on 12 September 1914 – a sure indicator of French victory in la Bataille du Grand-Couronné:

« Suis à Chauffontaine, dans une heure serai avec mon régiment dans Lunéville ».

Morel-Journel, Journal (p. 79).

And here he was, distracting those with him sheltering in an inadequate abri from a German bombardment with stories of his pre-war Saharan experiences. Memorialised in print and, after death, in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower.

I hope these two blog posts (together with my recent post on « Nécropoles nationales», « Cimetières » and « carrés militaires ») will encourage anyone who reads them to explore the cemeteries of Paris and those of any French city or commune with a better understanding of what stories there are to discover there, and that I’ve done something to pay tribute to those who served and died for France in la Grande Guerre.

* Here I think with the meaning ‘in the shadow of’ rather than more literally ‘under’. Rambach died at Montzéville (55) in the Argonne and was originally buried at Dombasle-en-Argonne.

^ Thanks to @nbuchon.me on BlueSky for their help in trying to interpret the handwriting!

  1. The subject, without foundation, of recent internet speculation. ↩︎

Traces of La Grande Guerre in the Cemeteries of Paris: (1) Introduction

In September 2024, I had the opportunity for a stay of almost a week in Paris and, without the need to consider the interests and tastes of anyone else, a chance to take in a range of historical sites relating to the First World War, as well as the siege of Paris during the War of 1870 and the Paris Commune. In this and a follow-on post, I want to focus on my time during that visit spent in the cities of the dead: the traces of la Grande Guerre in some of the cemeteries of Paris.

I’ve posted on BlueSky about one aspect of this before. The incredible memorial now to be found on the walls of probably the best known of the Paris municipal cemeteries, Père Lachaise:

This is the Paris memorial to those from the city who died during the Great War. It was erected on the wall of Père Lachaise cemetery in 2018. A view from a bus travelling one stop can’t fail to make you ponder the loss in that conflict

Debout les Morts ! (@vingtfrong.bsky.social) 2024-09-23T19:11:35.270Z

What you’re seeing on the short video are panels like these.

A single panel (the last one, including the last of the names beginning with 'T' and those names beginning with any of 'U-V-W' or 'X-Y-Z') from the Ville de Paris memorial to the 94,415 dead and 8,000 missing Parisians from the Great War of 1914-1918. The names are in white and in columns - there are 11 columns here - on black/grey.

These are the names of 94,415 dead and 8,000 missing Parisians from the Great War. The entire length of the memorial is 280 metres, and each panel is 1.30 metres high. It’s quite remarkable.

This is a recent commemorative response from the centenary period. Yet within the cemeteries of Paris, there’s evidence of France’s distinct approach to the scale of loss in the war and to the grief of families of the nation’s citizens in the immediate aftermath of the war. In the follow on to this post, we’ll look at what stories you can find in some of the Parisian cemeteries and the useful information that’s there to help and inspire you. First of all, however, a post to help with understanding why you may see what you see. How the French state and people’s responses to the enormity of the cost in terms of lives lost in the war bring us to where things are today.

A Rising and Inexorable Tide of Grief

From the outbreak of the war, bereaved families pressed the civil and military authorities to allow them to recover the remains of their loved ones and bury them closer to home. Responses to these requests fluctuated between authorization and refusal. In order to clear up the confusion, on 19 November 1914, Joffre formally prohibited any transfer of bodies from within the zone des armées (In a future blog post, I plan to share more detail on the significance of this division of the war front into zones). Only the bodies of deceased soldiers buried in the zone de l’intérieur could be returned, and there was a fee to be paid for doing so (as was the case in certain civilian circumstances).

Meanwhile, the French authorities wanted to bring soldiers’ graves in the zone des armées (which moved as the war front moved eastwards or westwards) together in official cemeteries. In some ways, the reasons for this are still there to this day: ease, and reduced cost, of maintenance; a desire to return land to agricultural or other use as soon as possible; and reduced ‘friction’ with local populations – the graves of whose loved ones, if known, might be altogether elsewhere. This was to be an exercise in doomed ambition. Isolated individual graves were elusive and often inaccessible – there being no zone of ‘current’ conflict separate from sites of previous fighting. In some cases, this is why they survive to this day. In others, the site of the grave was the scene of the action in which the deceased had fought – their surviving comrades or family wishing to commemorate their courage and sacrifice on the spot. During and after the war, the state tried to deny access to the devastated areas to families seeking to retrieve the bodies of their kin from battlefield graves. An unseemly struggle between the Republic and grieving relatives developed.

This article (in French) opens with an account of one grieving mother’s response:

“It is my duty to bring to your attention the following case. There is a military cemetery in the commune of St-Gilles. On May 29, Ascension Day, Madame Descoutis, director of the school in Montluçon (Allier) had the body of her son exhumed in the said cemetery and after placing it in a leaded coffin transported it to Montluçon by car. All this was done naturally without any authorization, as the law does not allow for the exhumation or transfer of military bodies.” 1

Under sustained pressure, and on the advice of a commission established under the presidency of général Édouard de Castelnau (who himself had lost three sons – Gérald (1879-1914), Xavier (1893-1914) and Hugues (1895-1915) – to the war), the government backed down and the law of 31 July 1920 finally allowed for the transfer of bodies from the war-zone.

As mentioned in the previous blog post, this marked a significant difference from the British Empire and Dominion experience where the Imperial War Graves Commission lobbied largely successfully for the bodies of those who had died abroad not to be repatriated, and for bodies scattered in isolated graves and makeshift burial grounds to be exhumed and ‘concentrated’ into larger cemeteries.

In the case of France, to keep control of the operations and treat all families equally, the government organized and funded the transfer of soldiers’ bodies. A department responsible for returning bodies (the Service de restitution des corps) was created within what became the Ministry of Pensions, headed by the war veteran and very important (for more than one reason) André Maginot as Ministre des Pensions, Primes et Allocations de guerre. From 1922 onwards, 240,000 coffins were returned to family graves, which represented one-third of identified bodies: considerably more than in the case of other nations.

A poster from le Souvenir Français illustrating the 'Cocarde aux couleurs françaises' placed by the organisation on the graves of soldiers who had died for France.

The cockade is a red, white and blue rosette with blue, white and red ribbon hanging down. This is set against a pair of curled laurel branches and above text explaining more about the work of the organisation.

Image: La cocarde du souvenir | fac-similé de la Cocarde aux couleurs françaises apposée sur les tombes des soldats français morts pour la France – AFF17788 – Lot 1 – Média 1 – L’Argonnaute – Bibliothèque numérique de La contemporaine

A pause here to add what I hope is thought-provoking additional information. The artillery of the war could and did blow men out of existence, such that no physical elements remained to be interred anywhere. Beyond these cases, nearly half of the dead were given no grave other than the ossuaires. The largest of these is at Douaumont and contains the remains of 130,000 French and German soldiers. This huge figure might lead to thoughts of exceptionalism if the nature of the fighting here (concentrated over a long period in a relatively small area and with the very real intention on the part of the Germans to inflict unsustainable losses on the French through attrition) is considered. However, in the largest cemetery on the Western Front at Notre-Dame de Lorette there are 20,058 bodies in graves and an estimated 20,000 in the ossuary. Almost equal numbers of unidentifiable fragments of men as bodies capable of being buried in a grave – a situation that can be found closely echoed in plenty of other places, large or small (examples chosen at random): Cerny-en-Laonnois : 5.150 bodies, of which 2.386 are en ossuaire; Dannemarie : 250 in individual graves and 139 ‘distributed’ in two ossuaires; Col de la Chipotte : 1,899 bodies, 1,006 buried in graves, 893 in an ossuary; Auberive : nearly 7,000 bodies, of which nearly 2,900 are buried in three ossuaries.2 Then, as noted in my post on war cemeteries, there are the individual ‘smaller’ (it’s all relative) ossuaires in many nécropoles with perhaps the remains of a hundred and sometimes as many as 3-4,000 bodies.

My posts on military graves and cemeteries and this one are intended to draw attention to how ‘hidden’ from understanding the true cost of the war to France in terms of lives really is. We don’t, by any means, have a true picture of the losses from the grave markers in a French nécropole. They only tell a part of the story. Although this is true of the British and German cemeteries as well, it’s especially so in the case of the French and Germans.

In summary, then, what anyone looking for traces of the First World War in the cemeteries of Paris (or indeed any French city, town or commune that was not under German control during the war) will encounter has been shaped by decisions made by the army and the state, and by communities and the bereaved families of dead soldiers – as well as by the level of wealth and influence and status of the individual or their family and networks. The influence of the zone des armées / zone de l’intérieur split can be seen and is often indirectly referenced as we’ll see and for which we’ll look at possible reasons. We’ll see the beauty and poignancy of tributes from families and others, and we’ll see endless opportunities to look deeper into aspects of the French military experience with connections to combat on land, sea and in the air. It’s a worthwhile experience for anyone interested in la Grande Guerre and a starting point to many other aspects of the huge subject of France and its people at war.

Note: This post has been influenced and shaped by the work of Professeure Béatrix Pau. a historian specialising in the First World War and particularly in death, the management of corpses and the ‘demobilisation of the dead’3.

  1. Archives Départementales de la Marne, 2 R 212, letter from the mayor of Saint-Gilles to the préfet de la Marne, 14 June 1919 quoted in Béatrix Pau, « La violation des sépultures militaires, 1919-1920 », Revue Historique des armées [En ligne], 259 | 2010, mis en ligne le 06 mai 2010, consulté le 15 mars 2025. URL : http://journals.openedition.org/rha/6980. ↩︎
  2. There are exceptions such as Le Mont Frenet à La Cheppe – created in 1915 to bury those soldiers who died of wounds at ambulance 3/65, which operated from this site. A site, as a consequence, with no ossuary and most graves ‘known’. ↩︎
  3. In addition to the work cited above, see Béatrix Pau-Heyriès. « Le marché des cercueils après-guerre, 1918-1924 », Revue Historique des Armées  [En ligne], 224 | 2001. consulté 16 mars 2025. pp. 65-80., URL : www.persee.fr/doc/rharm_0035-3299_2001_num_224_3_5035 and Béatrix Pau, “Des familles divisées dans le deuil : laisser les corps dans les cimetières militaires ou demander leur restitution”. In Un siècle de sites funéraires de la Grande Guerre, edited by Annette Becker and Stéphane Tison. Nanterre: Presses universitaires de Paris Nanterre, 2018. URL : https://books.openedition.org/pupo/22662 ↩︎

A Marne Morning with le maréchal Maunoury

At a conveniently short distance via the RER public transport network and buses to the east of Paris, there’s a host of First World War sites to visit. Of course, Paris has plenty of attractions: the very high tower, the other (even-higher) tower, the religious building up the hill, the other religious building that’s down by the river, the railway stations that are museums, the railway stations that are … railway stations. More museums. Art galleries. Restaurants. Cafés. Les grand magasins … no need for me to tell YOU. You’re sophisticated, you’ve been to them all. You’re a seasoned independent traveller.

But, if this is all you go to Paris to see, you’re missing out on the delights* of les banlieues and the commuter towns that have untasted treats waiting for you to enjoy. From Beauvais and Chantilly in the north through an arc to Melun in the south-east, there’s plenty to discover. Here are museums too: the Musée de la Grande Guerre at Meaux, the Musée de la Gendarmerie nationale at Melun. On the ‘P’ line you can get as far as Château-Thierry with the option of La Ferté-sous-Jouarre on the way. Visiting the Musée des Spahis at Senlis, however, seems to be beyond ambition without a car. Chantilly and Compiègne I have planned for a future trip. Of course, there are places to go, things to see, to the west. But for now, it’s time for to Look East.

This post’s not about museums or restaurants (although it does feature one charming encounter with a boulangerie). Everything in it is free to see and taken together they amount to … A Grand Day Out.

Things really begin at la gare de Noisy-le-Sec. Here it is around 1914 as seen in a carte postale:

Ancienne carte postale montrant la gare de Noisy-le-Sec.

An old postcard showing Noisy-le-Sec station.

It’s not really like that at all now. For one thing, this building’s buried behind a later portico and the sightlines are really obscured. For another, a lot of this site was bombed by the Allies in 1944. What’s important is that the same portico bears a couple of plaques that explain the significance of this place:

Aside from the intriguing fact that in 1897, a meeting between Queen Victoria and President Félix Faure took place at Noisy station (What?! Why?!), we learn that this was a famous gare régulatrice – a supply centre at the interface between the zone de l’intérieur under the authority of the civil government and the zone des armées under military control. Under joint civil-military control men, supplies, horses, mail, etc from the interior were sorted and despatched to the destinations that the military deemed they were needed. It wasn’t just a station. On the eve of the First World War, 2,300 people worked at Noisy-le-Sec for the Compagnie des chemins de fer de l’Est but this place became, during the conflict, one of the most important regulatory centres in France for the transport of troops. It was certainly the biggest. In everyday military parlance from what I can understand (and I may well be wrong), a gare régulatrice operated at the army level, but Noisy-le-Sec was a sort of ‘super-regulatory station’ through which huge volumes of men and matériel passed on the way to various of the armies in the north and east of France.

The station and marshalling yards were guarded throughout the war by 3 companies of the 2e bataillon of the 20e Régiment Territorial d’Infanterie and the regiment’s brief war history captures their essential work really well:

« Là, les 3e, 7e et 8e compagnies resteront jusqu’à la fin de la campagne à fournir une garde nombreuse à la gare de Noisy-le-Sec, des corvées de ravitaillement et des convoyeurs. Rôle ingrat et pénible par excellence. Là, pas d’actions héroïques, pas de citations, pas de gloire, pas d’honneurs, mais un labeur régulier, dur, fatigant pour nos vieux « Pépères »1 qui, d’un œil vigilant et par tous les temps, regardent passer les trains qui inlassablement filent vers le front et emportent dans leurs flancs, dans la nuit, là-bas, tout ce qui peut, tout ce qui doit faire la guerre. »

“… no heroic actions, no citations, no glory, no honours, but regular, hard, tiring work for our old “Pépères” who, with a vigilant eye and in all weathers, watch the trains pass by as they tirelessly rush towards the front and carry in their flanks, in the night, over there, everything that can, everything that must make war”.

Les GVC sont des réservistes de l’armée territoriale. Ce sont les barbes grises qui gardent avec conscience et mélancolie les voies ferrées et les ponts. Ils ne sont souvent pas bien dégourdis, presque toujours fagotés dans des capotes de couleur bizarres qui ne sont guère à leur mesure, armés de fusils Gras et de baïonnettes antiques qui s’adaptent mal à leur fusil. Ils ont dû faire allonger leur ceinturon pour pouvoir le boucler et ils portent les derniers pantalons rouges. Ils ne sont pas élégants, mais qu’importe? Ce sont de braves gens et si utiles, quoi qu’il en paraisse.

The G.V.C. are reservists of the Territorial Army. These are the grey beards who keep guard conscientiously and with melancholy the railways and bridges. They are often ill at ease, almost always dressed in overcoats of strange colours of the wrong size, armed with Gras rifles and ancient bayonets that don't properly fit to their guns. They had to extend their belts to be able to fasten them and they wear the last (remaining) red pants. They are not elegant, but who cares? They are good people and are helpful, whatever it may seem.
Auguste Lepère (1849–1918)
Le G. V. C. (Gardes des voies de communications), from La Guerre de 1914, first series, no. 9.
The Yale University Art Gallery
Accession number: 1985.76.1.14

It’s then a train to Le Raincy or, more properly, to give the station its full name, Raincy Villemomble Montfermeil. Here’s where the history comes in reverse chronological order. You can fit the pieces together in the ‘proper’ order in your own time. Up the hill along the main road from the station for about 10 minutes, pausing only at a mini roundabout. Suddenly, from a fair distance away the sweetest, cheeriest « Coucou ! » stopped me in my tracks. It’s from a young woman behind the counter in L’Atelier de Warren and all I can say to Warren, the owner of this boulangerie, is that it’s a winning sales approach – although the young lady was probably equally surprised to find that her customer wasn’t French, but British as I mangled the words of her native tongue. If you want people to feel welcome in your town, more random salutations will work wonders. You’ll sell more croissants as well.

A little further is the first stop in Le Raincy: l’Église Notre-Dame de Consolation. Superficially, it’s misleading. Made of concrete with a tower that aspires to be spire-like but isn’t, its secrets are its foundation story and its windows. The commune of Le Raincy had a growing population on the eve of the Grande Guerre and in 1918 the curé of the parish, Abbé Félix Négre, with a very limited budget, chose as the architects, Auguste and Gustave Perret, specialists in reinforced concrete, a material that allowed for low-cost construction. The church was built in a few months, and inaugurated and consecrated in June 1923. It immediately generated considerable interest in architectural circles – dubbed « la Sainte-Chapelle du béton armé » by Le Corbusier, it’s been a Classified Monument Historique since 1966.

But the church was also always intended as a memorial to France’s victory on the Marne (and more specifically in the Battle of the Ourcq which was fought nearby) in September 1914, and there’s a stained-glass window, called « La Vierge aux Taxis », which depicts taxis, one or more piou-piou,2 a zouave of l’armée d’Afrique, l’abbé Félix Nègre himself, and generals in their red and gold-braided képis – more of them shortly. These depictions, it’s suggested by those of Le Raincy, were intended to evoke memories of the victory at the Ourcq and the departure from the town, in September 1914, of one of the columns of taxis for the Marne battle3.

Click on any of the images below to enlarge them:


Regarding the généraux depicted, I’m fairly sure the two whose faces are visible are meant to be the pince-nez wearing Joseph-Simon Gallieni, gouverneur militaire of Paris – the man who, drawing on his pre-war experience in the 1912 autumn manoeuvres of the use of motor cars to move a battalion of men to a key operational point, acted to requisition Paris taxis to carry around 4,000 men from the 103e and 104e Régiments d’Infanterie to Nanteuil-le-Haudouin on the flank of the advancing German forces – and Michel-Joseph Maunoury, commander of the 6e armée, who was then responsible for the deployment and successful use of these troops in the battle.

It’s Maunoury who we follow to the next points of interest – just around 5 minutes’ walk further up l’avenue de la Résistance.

The Mairie of Le Raincy - a four-storey building with a central spire rising from a steeply sloped roof above a clock set into the face of the building at the height of the fourth storey. There are steps up to the large main central door and a basement level. A long green banner hangs down on the closest end of the building. A reddy-pink hard driveway curves up to the front of the building past garden borders and bushes.

Slightly set back from the road in a garden with topiarised hedges and tall palm trees, stands the Mairie of Le Raincy – which served as Maunoury’s headquarters during the opening of the battle. There’s no plaque to record this as far as I could tell, but the area behind the building is Parc Maunoury.

No matter, because across the road and a little way back toward the railway station at a crossroads and, again, slightly back from the road is the town’s war memorial which takes its opportunity to commemorate the role of the town hall in the events of September 1914.

Although rather worn in places, it should be possible to read below the figure with outstretched arms and the names of the fallen the words :

« DU 2 AU 10 SEPTEMBRE 1914 LE GÉNÉRAL MAUNOURY AVAIT SON QUARTIER GÉNÉRAL AU RAINCY »

carved beneath a bas relief showing the general stood in front of the mairie ordering forward a body of men with rifles on their shoulders with a gesture of his arm. Other officers (one perhaps a dragon) and men look on. One of the latter stands in front of what is presumably a ‘Marne taxi’ and wears the gauntlets of a conducteur. A stooped and bent man (one of the ‘walking wounded’) heads in the other direction. A man with rifle at rest stands in front of the car and a horse. It’s inevitable, but sad, that pollution has somewhat effaced the details of the figures.

Back to the railway station, pausing only briefly to admire l’ancienne Poste in allée Théophile Binet with its art déco façade, which I think was built in 1915 (suggesting an unfortunate fate for its predecessor), before taking another RER train just one stop to Gagny to meet a surviving veteran of the battle of the Ourcq – «un authentique taxi de la Marne, sur la nouvelle place Foch de Gagny ».

The former post office of Le Raincy in allée Théophile Binet with its art déco façade. The words 'Telegraphes', 'Postes' and 'Telephones' are picked out in stylish mid-blue capital letters on a light-yellow background. At the top of the building in the centre is an arch with 'Le Raincy' in blue on yellow underneath.

The commune of Gagny is rather less keen to acknowledge Le Raincy having been (as is claimed in connection with l’Église Notre-Dame de Consolation) the place of departure of one of the columns of taxis for the Marne battle. In fact, it doesn’t. At all. What Gagny has to say is this:

Environ 600 taxis parisiens sont déployés pour transporter les soldats. Rassemblés aux Invalides, les taxis partent au cours de la nuit, en direction de Tremblay-Lès-Gonesse (aujourd’hui Tremblay-en-France) puis du Mesnil-Amelot. Dans la journée du 7 septembre, pour des questions de logistique, ce convoi redescend sur Sevran-Livry. Pendant ce temps un second convoi d’un millier de véhicules quitte les Invalides pour rejoindre Gagny. Pour charger les troupes et organiser les convois, les taxis sont rassemblés à Livry-Gargan et à Gagny, sur la grande place (actuelle place Foch) où se rendra le Général Gallieni pour s’assurer du bon fonctionnement du dispositif.4

Keeping it factual. La commune de Gagny‘s big draw then is to say “come and see an authentic taxi de la Marne on the site from where the taxis left for the battle carrying their soldiers.” You can see a taxi de la Marne at le musée de l’Armée in Paris. You can see one in le musée de la Grande Guerre at Meaux. I’ve seen both. But there’s one that’s come back to where it was a witness to war.

Sure enough, there it was.

By the way, when you trace the route taken by the taxis, you immediately realise that they went right by where Charles de Gaulle Airport now is. Now, I don’t fly to Paris (Eurostar into the heart of Paris for me), but if you do from wherever, think about that when you’re taxiing along one of the 4 runways.

That takes us to the end of the morning part of a one-day excursion. After this I had a convoluted journey in the valley of the Marne that included visiting a military cemetery with a lot to prompt a future blog post, a ‘drive by’ (OK, rapid walk-by) of Fort de Nogent– one of the forts that encircle Paris and the base of la Légion étrangère (so I was very careful not to get too close), a place with memorials to some of France’s truly forgotten Great War troops and a little-known (unless you’re an American in Paris) sporting venue with a great history. Probably all the subject of future posts on the blog or other social media. You can follow me on BlueSky at https://bsky.app/profile/vingtfrong.bsky.social and debout_les_morts on Instagram. I hope this one’s inspired you to go suburban if you’re ever in the Île-de-France.

Postscript: You couldn’t call Gagny attractive, but when I researched this visit, it had two attractions that I really looked forward to seeing. The taxi was the main one and didn’t disappoint (well, apart from whether it was sufficiently protected in the ‘glass’ case it’s housed in from damage by the effects of the sun and heat). The other (spotted on Google Street View) was the massive floral ‘dinosaur’ in the green space nearby! Incroyable ! Sadly, I’d failed to notice that the view was from 2012 and, although there have been other floral creations there since (for example, a lion and a zebra, I seem to think), the dinosaur is long gone. Which I can’t help feeling is a missed opportunity by the local authorities. I mean I’d go and see them together like a shot. Wouldn’t you?

*I will not be called to account for the use of this phrase.

  1. « Pépère » = ‘Grandad’. Interestingly, also used for a ‘quiet sector’ in the war, it’s now sometimes used for something ‘cushy’ or easy. ↩︎
  2. In September 1914, this term was more commonly used for les soldats in 1914, poilus (‘hairy men’) really referring to the appearance of the soldiers after periods of trench warfare. ↩︎
  3. The First Battle of the Marne took place from 5-12 September 1914. The fighting took place along a curved line of c.225 km from the camp retranché de Paris through Champagne and Argonne to the fortified city of Verdun.
    This combat zone can be subdivided into several sections of more or less important battles: to the West, the battles of the Ourcq and the two Morins (5-9 Sep); in the centre, the battles of the marshes of Saint-Gond (5-9 Sep) and Vitry (6-9 Sep), and, to the East, the battle of Revigny (6-10 Sep). ↩︎
  4. https://www.gagny.fr/ma-ville/histoire/la-grande-histoire-de-gagny/les-taxis-de-la-marne/#:~:text=Environ%20600%20taxis,fonctionnement%20du%20dispositif. ↩︎

Les Chasseurs Forestiers

During a first visit to the battlefields of Alsace in May 2024, the inscription on a memorial in the heart of the Vosges Mountains prompted some research about garde général Lieutenant E.L. Renaud and lots of new learning about (for me, at least) an unknown unit described as one of the « troupes d’élite » of the French Army.

As the road west out of the village of Mittlach in Haut-Rhin runs alongside la Grande Fecht (a fast-flowing rocky stream of probably ice-cold water given that even in mid-May there’s snow still on the lee slopes of some of the higher reaches of the surrounding ridges of the Vosges), it runs past the intriguingly named Rocher du Kiwi and turns south-west into the Vallée du Langenwasen. At the road and stream’s bend stands a memorial bearing the traditional hunting horn emblem of the Chasseurs.

This is one of those occasions when my photography has let us all down, so you’ll have to take on trust that these are the words on the memorial1:

À LA MEMOIRE DU GARDE GÉNÉRAL E.L. RENAUD LT AU 68E BATAILLON DE CHASSEURS ALPINS, MORT POUR LA FRANCE LE 15 JUIN 1915.

IN MEMORY OF GARDE GENERAL E.L. RENAUD LT OF THE 68TH BATTALION OF CHASSEURS ALPINS, WHO DIED FOR FRANCE ON 15 JUNE 1915

1 There are also other web sites that have information on this memorial – but more of that later

It’s important to point out here that a garde général is not a General! To explain, we need to learn more about E.L. Renaud.

Louis Étienne Renaud (so, not ‘E.L.’, but ‘L.E.’) was born on 16 August 1888 in the 16e Arrondissement of Paris. This is a little surprising, given the recruitment centre for the 68e Bataillon de Chasseurs Alpins was in Grenoble in the Isère département. His service records, however, show he was a student at an agricultural science institute. An important fact we’ll return to shortly. His military service was notionally with the 41e RI (which recruited from the Rennes area). He was contracted at the mairie of the 16e Arrondissement for a voluntary engagement of four years with the regiment under “article 23 of the law of 21 March 1905”. This article set the parameters for military service for those who were entering any of the specialist schools – ­the « grandes écoles ». Here’s the relevant section:

A section of Article 23 of the 'Law of 21 March 1905' from Bulletin des lois de la République française, Source :  Bibliothèque nationale de France
A section of Article 23 of the ‘Law of 21 March 1905’ from Bulletin des lois de la République française, Source  :  Bibliothèque nationale de France

These schools offer an alternative educational system alongside the French public universities, and are institutes dedicated to teaching, research and professional training in either natural or social sciences, or applied sciences such as engineering, architecture, business administration, or public policy and administration. They include l’école polytechnique (also known as « l’X ») where the likes of Joffre, Foch, Fayolle, Estienne, Nivelle and Alfred Dreyfus were educated, l’École normale supérieure – its students, who are called normaliens, included politicians like Jean Jaurès, Léon Blum, Paul Painlevé as well as writers (Charles Péguy), historians (Marc Bloch) and philosophers (Henri Bergson), and those such as the former École Centrale des Arts et Manufactures (École Centrale Paris) and the École nationale supérieure des mines de Saint-Étienne. The École spéciale militaire de Saint-Cyr is also considered a grande école. Admission to a grandes école was, and still is, extremely selective. As Renaud’s military service makes clear, he was to be a student at one of the applied science schools – l’École Nationale des Eaux et Forêts – the école forestière in the above section of the 21 March 1905 law – and this also meant something special and distinct about his military career.

Alongside their training to manage and develop France’s huge forests as a national resource, students at l’École Nationale des Eaux et Forêts also received military instruction before, during and after their time at the school. If they were admitted to the school, they became a part of the cadre of an elite military unit – the Chasseurs Forestiers under an officer designated by the Minister of War. Upon leaving school, and if they were admitted to l’Administration des forêts, they were appointed sous-lieutenants de réserve d’infanterie and completed the planned training course in this capacity in the corps to which they were assigned. The director of l’École Nationale des Eaux et Forêts provided the recruiting offices with the names of the school’s students. The commanders of these recruitment offices would not assign to any unit of the active or territorial army officers who had not had at least 6 months of service in the l’Administration as « garde général stagiaire ». From his military service record, we learn that after his arrival on 8 October 1910, Renaud was a soldat de 2e classe and, in February 1911, he was promoted to caporal. He was nominated (which I take to mean admitted) to the school in October 1911 and in 1913-14 he accomplished a year of training as a sous-lieutenant.

But here we encounter an issue with the matricule militaire, because at no point does it mention that this service was with the Chasseurs Forestiers. Did Renaud, therefore, never serve in the cadre militaire of this corps ? Given that both the memorial near Mittlach and his matricule militaire state that he was a lieutenant with the 68e Bataillon de Chasseurs Alpins, was he indeed ever a part of the Chasseurs Forestiers?

To answer that question, first, we need to know more about the rather elusive Chasseurs Forestiers.

More on the Chasseurs Forestiers.

The creation of a military formation, les Chasseurs Forestiers, composed of regionalized companies was a direct product of France’s defeat in the War of 1870. France’s forests had been the subject of state control since medieval times. Increased regulation and ‘usage rights’ brought significant income to the Kingdom. By the late 17th century, royal forests were such significant sources of income that they were closed to most people and the royal administration responsible for forests had assigned the surveillance and policing of the forest to sergents and gardes, with officers of the royal forest administration service overseeing forest management.

By the time of the July Monarchy of Louis-Philippe (1830-1848) these gardes forestiers acted as guides for the military assisting them in navigating the forests in times when France was under attack. Meanwhile, from 1838, l’administration des Eaux et Forêts was established in colonial Algeria where an extension of the approach to forestry in métropolitaine France gave rise to numerous conflicts.

After the defeat of France by Prussia, the entire French nation went through an agonising self-examination in a vast range of military and civil functions in an endeavour to learn from the disasters of the war. In forestry administration, the situation was no different. Many of the forestiers themselves had suffered from the disorganization, and even chaos which had deeply marked them, and wanted to avoid the repetition of similar situations. Because of this, they lobbied for real “military status”.

A decree of April 2, 1875 incorporated forestry personnel into the composition of the country’s military forces by creating “companies, sections and detachments of chasseurs forestiers”. Military training thus made its debut at what was then the École nationale forestière at Nancy. The administration des Eaux et Forêts was integrated into the French military forces and its personnel attached in times of war to chasseurs forestiers companies. In peacetime, its personnel ensured the continuity of the forest service and carried out forestry surveillance and other administrative functions. In times of war, its mission was to facilitate the progress of troops in the countryside and to support the army’s Engineer units in the supply of wood.

But there was no clear “employment doctrine” (doctrine d’emploi) for the chasseurs forestiers. They were simply distributed throughout France in 48 companies (including 2 fortress), 36 sections (including 18 fortress) and 15 detachments. In Algeria, three squadrons of mounted infantry were organized, one per unit.

The decree of 1875 was modified and supplemented in 1882, in 1883 and especially by that of November 18, 1890, after which the corps de chasseurs forestiers comprised 6,500 men (6,000 in mainland France and 500 in Algeria) and 280 officers (260 in mainland France and 20 in Algeria).

As for uniforms and weapons, these were provided by the army as well as equipment (bags, cartridge belts, gaiters, shoes) and camp materials. The uniform was that of l’Administration des forêts. The Chasseurs Forestiers, being classified among the « troupes d’élite » bore distinctive signs.

  • Uniform of a Chef de bataillon chasseur forestier
  • Dark green képi with silver piping and the hunting horn of the chasseurs of the type that Renaud would have been issued as a Garde Général Stagiaire / Sous-Lieutenant of the Chasseurs Forestiers in 1914.
  • Uniforme forestier with trousers in a dark blue-grey (pantalon gris-de-fer bleuté) with daffodil piping (passepoil jonquille) and the coat in 'finance green' (vert finance). There are leather gaiters and chevrons showing length of service on the upper left arm.
  • Group of 10 Chasseur Forestier other ranks with an NCO in two ranks (front rank kneeling). They are armed with rifles and are wearing equipment harness. The photograph shows how the collar insignia of other ranks was darker than that of officers, warrant officers and NCOs.
  1. Chef de bataillon chasseur forestier, inspecteur des Eaux et Forêts, 1909-1918. Note the collar insignia, the dark green of the tunic (drap vert foncé). [Source: Aussie Oc, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons]
  2. Képi with silver piping and the hunting horn (cor de chasse) of the chasseurs of the type that Louis Renaud would have been issued as a Garde Général Stagiaire / Sous-Lieutenant of the Chasseurs Forestiers in 1914. [Source: Aussie Oc, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons]
  3. Uniforme forestier with trousers in a dark blue-grey (pantalon gris-de-fer bleuté) with daffodil piping (passepoil jonquille) and the coat (manteau) in ‘finance green’ (vert finance). There are leather gaiters and chevrons showing length of service on the upper left arm.
  4. Group of ten Chasseurs Forestiers other ranks with an NCO in two ranks (front rank kneeling). They are armed with rifles and are wearing equipment harness. The photograph shows how the collar insignia of other ranks was darker than that of officers, warrant officers and NCOs. None of the men appear young. [Source: Aussie Oc, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons]

Étienne Renaud’s Brief, But Eventful, War

All these details concerning uniforms and the organisation of the unit in relation to the Administration des Eaux et Forêts are important when used alongside other sources. Renaud’s matricule militaire is rather sparse on detail aside from what’s already been provided. Luckily, useful information is available to draw on via the web. Of course, research in the archives of the Service Historique de la Défense (SHAD) at Vincennes in Paris would be the optimum. But, given such a trip needs careful planning and is best when a decent quantity of potential historical sources to consult on a variety of topics has been identified, I’m at the stage at present of seeing what’s available online and in digitized form.

The usual route to follow for me is to do an initial web search, then look at the individual’s matricule militaire, before moving on to look at the digitized unit histories that were published after the war and have been the subject of an extensive digitisation programme by the Bibliothéque Nationale de France (BNF). From there, it would be Les Journaux des marches et opérations (JMO) of the relevant military unit(s) – the rough equivalent of the War Diary of anglophone units.

In the case of our man, Étienne Louis, there was a wealth of information on the web and in the unit history of the 68e Bataillon de Chasseurs Alpins for us to learn a good deal about this officer’s impressive war service. Despite it being tragically short in length, it was filled with incident.

Illustrated cover of Pages de Gloire du 68éme Bataillon de Chasseurs Alpins 1914-1918 featuring a chasseur in traditional béret or tarte and in dark blue (indigo) uniform carrying a full set of equipment including haversack, helmet, rifle, walking stick and wearing insignia suggesting lengthy war service. In his right hand he carries a trumpet (NOT the traditional 'cor de chasse') which has a pennant attached. The illustration seems correct in a great many important details (insignia, etc).
Pages de gloire du 68e bataillon de chasseurs alpins : 2 août 1914-30 mars 1919

Renaud merits several mentions in the unit history of the battalion. In the first of these, we’re told how in November 1914:

« Soutenue par la section de mitrailleuses du bataillon, la 9e compagnie progresse sur les crêtes boisées d’Ebeneck, en chasse instantanément les défenseurs et s’installe aux lisières du bois. De là elle peut couvrir sur la gauche l’opération de Rimbach à laquelle prennent part la 7e compagnie et un peloton de la 10e. Les mitrailleuses du lieutenant RENAUD entrent en action dès leur installation et brisent dans l’œuf une contre-attaque importante. Rimbach est occupé pendant trois heures au bout desquelles on procède à l’évacuation volontaire, ordonnée par le commandement. »

This is interesting since command of a machine-gun section suggests an officer already assessed as capable and brave and seemingly established with the battalion. But more than that. On the same page, there’s a photo of a group of officers and among them is Renaud. Here it is:

Officers of 68e Bataillon de Chasseurs Alpins in a snowy forest. All wear the Mle. 1889 béret. Étienne Renaud has a single inverted V indicating his rank as sous-lieutenant on his lower left sleeve. He and two other officers carry long walking poles. His pantalon are clearly different in shade to the others and so is his 'cor de chasse' collar insignia (the other officers wear the number '68').

From left to right:
Rear row : Cap. DUPONT, lieut. DESBENOIT.
Middle row : Cap. LAVAUDEN, aide-major GUILLAUME, Cap. BALLON, sous-lieut. RENAUD.
Front row : Médecin-auxiliaire PINARD, lieut. SABATTIER.

The other officers can be identified as part of 68e Bataillon de Chasseurs Alpins because they all wear the Modèle 1889 béret and have the number ’68’ as collar insignia. Étienne Renaud’s pantalon are clearly different to those worn by the others and so is his ‘cor de chasse‘ collar insignia. He has a single inverted V indicating his rank as sous-lieutenant on his lower left sleeve. Until November 1915 when the chasseurs alpins adopted hunting horn collar insignia, these differences in collar insignia are a good pointer for identifying chasseurs forestiers. It’s less easy to be definitive based on the differences in shade of his tunic and breeches (uniforms wore out rapidly during war service and standard issue replacements were not readily available until after the introduction of the horizon bleu uniform towards the end of 1915). However, uniform regulations by 1914 prescribed they were to be made of a cloth close in colour to blue-grey with daffodil yellow piping for sous-officiers and chasseurs forestiers, but with a double band of finance green either side (« de part et d’autre ») of the piping for officers. I think this is enough to confirm the unit of service for Étienne Renaud.2

We next find lieutenant Renaud mentioned for his part in the fighting around Steinbach where French attempts to take the village and then the town of Cernay saw fighting sway back and forth over the last days of December 1914 and the first of January 1915:

« Le 30 décembre, à l’exception de la 10e compagnie
… les 7e, 8e et 9e compagnies montent en ligne devant Uffholtz, le centre du bataillon sur la croupe de la chapelle Saint-Antoine, la droite en liaison avec le 152e régiment d’infanterie, qui, depuis une semaine, vient de s’illustrer dans l’opération hardie de la prise de Steinbach. … Dans la nuit du 1er au 2 janvier, attaqué après de sérieux bombardements, le bataillon repousse victorieusement trois fortes tentatives de l’ennemi en vue de la reprise de la croupe Saint-Antoine. Installés dans des trous d’obus, les mitrailleurs du bataillon font merveille et sous l’impulsion de leur chef de section, le lieutenant RENAUD des chasseurs forestiers*, coopèrent dans une très large mesure à l’échec de l’ennemi. »

* my emphasis

Renaud, it seems, was a chasseur forestier officer serving with a battalion of chasseurs alpins but preserving his rank, uniform and distinctions. This may explain why, of the 48 forestier companies in France at the outbreak of war, there are very few JMOs (4 – those for 9e, 14e, 16e and 18e) or unit histories (1 – 1ère Compagnie de Chasseurs Forestiers) for the companies. From another useful source of information, the Forum PAGES 14-18, a useful post explains that in May 1914, the Minister of War specified that in the event of mobilization for war, only those under the age of 48 were called upon to join chasseur forestier companies that would form on the outbreak of war. These units would then be attached to large formations of the army. Other officers would stay in their peacetime posts to ensure the continuity of the forestry service, avoid the pillaging of the forests and fulfil the information and guide missions that the military authority would entrust to them locally. Furthermore, only gardes généraux and les inspecteurs adjoints (deputy inspectors) were for front-line service – a fact that explains why on the war memorial of the we can see on the monument aux morts of l’Ecole forestière de Nancy there are the names of 96 former students who were killed between 1914 to 1918. Many more were wounded or taken prisoner.

[If anyone can provide a photograph of this memorial or a link to a web site with more detail, by the way, please get in touch.]

Casualties among the forestiers were such that in 1916 they were withdrawn from front-line service (along with many engineers and specialists essential to the continuation of the industrial war effort). This avoided the “total eradication” of the 25/40 age group, but the gaps created could not be filled after the war until around 1930. Away from the trenches, the forestiers were assigned to supplying the armies with wood in the forward zone as part of la service forestier des armée or to guard duties at the headquarters of senior commanders like Joffre. (I’m looking for photographs of visits by the likes of Kitchener, French and Haig to see if I can spot men in this role).

Lieutenant Étienne Louis Renaud was one of those who did not survive the war. On 15 June 1915, 68e bataillon de Chasseurs Alpins (among them capitaine Robert Dubarle, who I hope will be the subject of a future blog post), was to participate in the French offensive that aimed to seize the small town of Metzeral in the valley of the Grande Fecht.

To capture Metzeral in the valley, the French first had to take the heights of Anlasswasen to the west of Metzeral and the Braunkopf to the north. For its attack on Anlasswasen (Côte or collet 955), two companies plus one platoon of 68e bataillon de Chasseurs Alpins were to tackle the enemy positions on the slopes of 955 which faced Sondernach and a pentagonal enclosure located between 955 and the bois de Winterhägel. (See the map from the unit history and the modern IGN map below):

Données Cartographique © IGN

However, when the French preparatory bombardment began at noon, German artillery batteries responded in turn and soon a barrage ‘of incredible violence’ fell on collet 955 and in the rear, causing heavy losses to a battalion of the 152e RI in reserve at 1025. As the batallion history describes:

« Au cours de cette réaction, le bataillon éprouve une perte douloureuse en la personne du lieutenant RENAUD, commandant du peloton de mitrailleuses. Un aveugle éclat d’obus vient frapper en pleine poitrine ce vaillant officier, au moment où il dirigeait l’installation d’une mitrailleuse destinée à appuyer l’attaque. Sa mort, que ses chasseurs et ses camarades ressentent amèrement, sème une impression de tristesse sur tous les visages. »

From another forum, dedicated to the chasseurs battalions, we learn that Renaud was buried in the cimetière communal de Kruth. He had also received three citations – two in army, and one in divisional, orders. These were:

1. « A l’Ordre de la Division. Lieutenant au 68e Bataillon de Chasseurs à Pied : extrêmement énergique et courageux, toujours en avant, remplit les missions les plus périlleuses. »

2. « A l’Ordre de l’Armée. A fait preuve au combat du 7 mai, comme officier mitrailleur, de belles qualités militaires ; accompagnant avec ses mitrailleuses les troupes de première ligne, s’est installé avec elles sur la position conquise et s’y est maintenu sous un violent bombardement, assurant par le feu de ses pièces le succès définitif. »

3. « A l’Ordre de l’Armée. Officier plein d’entrain, de sang-froid et d’audace ; toujours volontaire pour les missions les plus dangereuses. Au combat du 15 juin, est mort à son poste de chef des mitrailleuses, comme il avait vécu depuis le début de la campagne, en chef héroïque. » »

Finally, the battalion history explains one more aspect of the story of lieutenant Renaud, garde général and officier des Chasseurs Forestiers:

« Désireux d’honorer la mémoire de ses officiers tués au cours de l’avance sur Metzeral, le bataillon obtient l’autorisation de donner leurs noms à des points de ce territoire sur lequel il vient de répandre si généreusement son sang : Le camp de Mittlach-le-Haut où s’installe le train régimentaire, s’appelle désormais « camp RENAUD » et on y érige un monument à la mémoire du vaillant forestier. »

My longest blog post so far, and one that I hope has done justice to the story of the man and the unit.

2. A second photograph in the unit history shows the officers of the battalion in February 1915. In this photograph, Renaud is stood next to the battalion mascot, Théophile, a young Alsatian boy kitted out with the full uniform of a chasseur alpin. The boy clearly can’t hide his delight in his new status.

Google Map Resources: Les Régiments d’Artillerie de Campagne [RAC], 1914

The fifth resource using Google Maps – a visual reference resource to make some of the ‘core information’ on the French Army in the First World War easily accessible.

Les Régiments d’Artillerie de Campagne shows the location of the Field Artillery Regiments by their Base HQ.

The map contains some additional information on the French artillery in 1914.

As with previous maps, this map is embedded as a link and immediately available ‘on click’ in a new tab:

Les Régiments d’Artillerie de Campagne by Home HQ, 1914

Feedback on the value and accuracy of these maps is always welcome, so do send a comment if you wish.

The 99th ‘promotion’ of the École spéciale militaire de Saint-Cyr

The Pulitzer Prize winner, Barbara W. Tuchman, holds some responsibility for encouraging two enduring myths of ‘La Grande Guerre’.

Barbara W. Tuchman’s The Guns of August
© Penguin Books Limited

In a footnote to her 1962 book The Guns of August, Barbara W. Tuchman’s wrote that ‘In the chapel of St. Cyr (before it was destroyed during World War II) the memorial tablet to the dead of the Great War bore only a single entry for “the Class of 1914”’.

Useful ammunition in support of a portrayal of ‘the French Army and the Futility of War’, this claim, like her statement that ‘Officers from St. Cyr went into battle wearing whiteplumed [sic] shakos and white gloves’ makes for great reading, but is somewhat lacking in terms of supporting evidence.

As the foremost French military academy, L’École spéciale militaire de Saint-Cyr was created by order of Napoléon Bonaparte on 1 May 1802. The school, originally at the château de Fontainebleau, received its first pupils in 1803.

Since 1829, each year the class (‘promotion‘) chooses a name for itself. Typically, these are battles, famous graduates of the school, slogans or nicknames. In January 1915, the 1913-14 promotion was named ‘la Grande Revanche’ – in keeping with the nation’s chief goal in 1914: revenge for the defeat in War of 1870.

According to research published by Général de brigade Jean Boÿ in 2010, a total of 781 (subsequently revised to 765) students were members of the class and he quotes figures from Colonel Jean Le Boulicaut, le Livre d’or des Saint-Cyriens morts au Champ d’honneur (Ed. la Saint-Cyrienne, 1990) that give 463 members as « morts au Champ d’honneur » (quite a particular expression, rather than the ‘official’ « morts pour la France » or « morts en service »). Of these 463, 406 died during la Grande Guerre or as a result of wounds they suffered in it. The others died or were killed in conflicts from Mesopotamia in 1920 through Syria in 1924, the Second World War (24 deaths) and on to Algeria (2). Surprisingly, 20 are known to have died but not where or when.

So, not all were killed (although a high percentage (53%) – high even to an experienced historian of the Great War – were). A few did die in 1914 – those who couldn’t wait to get into the fighting – but the great majority of the students were engaged as infantry, and grouped together at the end of August 1914 in « pelotons spéciaux régionaux » where they received basic training as chef de section. On 5 December 1914, those passing the final exam became temporary second lieutenants; their less successful comrades left as non-commissioned officers.

The life stories of these men are as varied as every person’s during the war. The worst year for casualties was 1915 when 223 were killed, but there were significant numbers who died in the other years of the war as well. Here’s just one example of a Saint-Cyrien who made it to 1918 but was killed in June during The Battle of the Matz: Jean Eugène Marie René ARTHAUD de La FERRIÈRE. Engagé volontaire le 17/08/1914, Lieutenant à la 9ème Compagnie du 151ème Régiment d’infanterie. (If you use Twitter, please consider following @Indre1418 – one of several accounts specialising in the service history of men from a particular commune, ville or département).

I still need to find a photograph of the memorial in the chapel as it stood before 1940 (can you help?). It’s true that the “vieux bahut” (old school) was indeed badly damaged by Allied bombing during the campaign to liberate France. It would be good to confirm just what the memorial did say.

And the white gloves and plumes? This seems to be a myth of a longer pedigree. On 15 April 1940, as a combined British and French force struggled to resist the German invasion of Norway , Life magazine published a short photo-article ‘The Best Blood of France. Graduates from St. Cyr’. With recently-released images of some of France’s ‘glorious dead’, the article compared the graduates of the 1940 ‘promotion‘ – Amitié Franco-Britannique (‘Franco-British Friendship’) – with the graduating class of 1914 who ‘swore to die in white gloves and plumes and promptly did, at Charleroi, on August 22, 1914.’ Their 1940 counterparts, Life‘s readers were told, were ‘equally willing to die’ (but this time in khaki, not white gloves) and the magazine grimly speculated based on the evidence of the previous war that not half of them would return…