Book Excerpt
Prologue - Obernai, Alsace, France, 1868
The winter wind was blowing snow against the side of the house with an angry howl. I turned from the bookshelf and shuffled back to my chair by the fireplace holding a battered but much cherished book. I liked the winters here at the foot of the mountains. The cold gave me an excuse to sit by the fire with my wife and read or reminisce about our long life together. As often happened, the blustery night drew me to the old book I had purchased more than fifty years ago - a book from which all but the first twenty pages were now missing. It reminded me of the blessings of this warm house and my life, especially tonight when our grandchildren were visiting.
When my youngest grandson, Nathanael, saw what I had in my hand, he was disappointed and asked, “Can’t you read us an adventure story tonight?”
“Yes, Grandpa, that old book doesn’t even have all its pages,” my elder grandson, Jaye, pointed out. “Why do you keep it?”
“This book saved my life,” I told the boys. “It is part of an adventure that means more to me than any work of fiction.”
Jaye looked at me quizzically, but I changed the subject by turning to my granddaughter, Helene, and asking, “What are you studying in school?”
“We are learning about Napoleon Bonaparte and all his victories. He was a great leader from a long time ago,” she said.
“Oh, it wasn’t all that long ago,” I said and then added, “I met him once, you know.”
“What!” Helene exclaimed dropping her needlepoint and sitting up straight. “Where?”
“In Russia,” I answered calmly.
“Russia?” exclaimed Jaye. “That’s thousands of miles from here.”
“Was it just you and Napoleon in Russia?” Nathanael asked wide-eyed.
“No. I went there with the Grande Armée of more than half a million men,” I answered. “Only 20,000 of us returned,” I added staring at the fire and fingering my book.
“What happened to the ones who didn’t make it back?” Helene wanted to know.
“Tell us how the book saved your life,” my grandsons pleaded.
“It is actually the same story, but it may take a while to tell,” I looked at my wife inquiringly.
“There is time before bed if you make it the short version,” she said smiling as she put her hand on my arm.
“Yes, my gentle lamb, the short version,” I smiled back placing my hand over hers.
“Let’s see, it all started in 1811 when I was 13 years old - about your age,” I said, looking at Helene. “We lived right here in Obernai. My mother had died that spring so my Aunt Agnes came to live with my father, my brother Luc, and me. Aunt Agnes didn’t have children of her own. She seemed cold and distant most of the time. I missed my mother every day.
“Our country had been at war off and on for years, and life was hard. My father had been wounded while serving in the French army. I imagined that he had been wounded doing something heroic, but my father didn’t talk about it. Eventually, the injury's lingering effect had forced him to give up farming. He made a meager living working odd jobs. Losing my mother’s income as a seamstress was a real blow to the family.”
As I continued to talk, I was taken back to that fateful morning. I could see the little room so clearly in my mind, though it was now decades past. When I awoke on that long ago day, I did not know that I would become part of something so vast and tragic that it changed the course of world history.
Chapter 1 - The World Turns Upside Down
The sun was just beginning to show signs of rising on that summer day when I stretched and got out of bed. My older brother Luc was still asleep. He was four years older than me and liked to sleep as much as possible. I heard the voices of my aunt and father talking downstairs. It wasn't the usual everyday conversation. There was an emotional edge to it, and my father sounded upset. Had something happened?
A loud exchange made me hurry downstairs without changing out of my nightshirt. I saw my aunt sitting at our table, straight and proper as usual and my father standing at the fireplace leaning against the mantel with his head hidden in his arm. The room had become quiet upon my entry, and the clock on the mantel, our most valuable possession, sounded loud in the stillness. I stood at the base of the stairs and looked at them, afraid to speak.
My father straightened, turned to me and said, “Go get your brother.”
I raced back up the stairs and shook Luc awake.
“Aunt Agnes and Father are arguing about something. They want to talk with us. Hurry.” In no time we were downstairs where my father asked us to take a seat at the table.
“As you know,” he began, “things have not been going well for our family. Your aunt and I,” he said, glancing at my stoic aunt, “do not think we will be able to provide for all of us when things get worse this winter.”
“We'll get by,” I broke in, “we always do.”
My father looked up, smiled weakly, then reached over and gave my arm a squeeze. “Your aunt and I,” he continued, “have decided that it is best if you boys were taken care of.” He now began to speak faster as if to get out the unpleasant part as quickly as possible. “There is an army recruiting party coming through town today. Luc is old enough to join now and you, Henri, will go along with him. Even though you aren't old enough to enlist, we'll see if we can get you in somehow. We think that at least in the army you will be fed.”
Luc beamed. He had talked about joining the military, wearing a handsome uniform and performing feats of bravery. I was stunned. I liked to play at war with my friends re-enacting the many battles France had won under our emperor Napoleon. But I wasn't ready for this.
My father continued. “If I could think of a way to provide for us all, I would do it. Right now, the army offers the best chance.” He hung his head. Now he spoke slowly. “Your aunt has gathered together the things you will need and there is a duffel bag for each of you. Go upstairs and get dressed.”
I started to say something, but my father gave me a look that said the conversation was over. I followed Luc upstairs. “Can you believe it? We're joining the army and marching to glory!” he said excitedly as he extended his right arm in the air as if holding a sword. I looked at him, not knowing what to say. I felt like I would cry. My life had taken a sharp turn, and I wanted things to go back to the way things were before Mother died.
Luc saw my anguished look. He put his arm around my shoulder and stood next to me. “I know it's hard,” he said holding me tight to his side, “but we'll be together. I'll look out for you. It will be the Carle boys seeing the world.” That wasn't what I wanted to hear. His arm slipped from around my shoulder. “Look,” he said in a serious voice. “Father and Aunt Agnes wouldn't do this if they thought there was any other way. The French army is the best in the world. To be a soldier is the most honorable thing we can do. We'll be fine, you’ll see.”
Back downstairs, we found my aunt making eggs for breakfast, something we almost never had. I looked at my father. He looked back at me with tears in his eyes. I burst out crying and ran to him, burying my head in his chest. We stood there for a long moment, then he took me by both shoulders and held me at arm’s length. “I believe in my boys,” he said. “You'll know what to do. I can't be with you, but that doesn't mean I won't be thinking of you.”
Breakfast was eaten in silence. There was so much to say, but where to start? I wasn't very hungry and for the first time in my life, couldn't finish a meal.
My aunt brought out the two duffel bags she had packed with extra socks, a thick knit hat and a pair of warm mittens. There was also a thin blanket and tin drinking cup. My aunt put half a loaf of bread on top of each pile for the journey. The sight of the winter hat and mittens reminded me that I would be gone for a long time. My throat began to tighten, and my eyes burned with the effort of holding back more tears.
My father suddenly spoke up, “I know I haven't talked much about my time in the army. I didn't think what I did mattered much here, but there was one thing I learned.” He paused and then continued, “Sometimes, the line between victory and disaster is thin. A break one way or another can undo the best laid plans. But, if you are always prepared and thinking ahead, you'll make it through.”
“Here, take these,” my father added, and he pressed a few coins into each of our hands.
We all walked out into the cool morning and headed for the town square. A crowd had gathered. We weren't the only ones who would be joining that day. I didn't see anyone as young as me, though. My father greeted some of the men he knew, and they looked at Luc and me with satisfaction. The women, though, looked at us with an expression of sadness.
Chapter 2 - Enlistment
The sound of fifes and drums came echoing down the street between the buildings and out into the town square. The musicians were sharply dressed in white and blue regimental coats with lace around the lapels and down the arms. Each wore a sword with a polished handle. Behind them were six soldiers wearing light blue coats. On their heads, they wore tall fur covered hats. They were big men and the hats made them look like giants.
Leading the contingent was a heavy-set officer riding a large gray horse. He looked like he was a few years older than my father. His face was distinguished by a large mustache. He carried his sword in his right hand with the blade resting against his shoulder. Upon a sharp command from one of the drummers, the procession came to a halt. They made a spectacular sight, and the crowd fell silent captivated by the splendor before them. The officer put his sword away, and the sound of the blade echoed around the square as it slid into the sheath and ended with a metallic click. I forgot for a moment why we were there.
Trailing the soldiers at a distance, so as not to be noticed, was a wagon being driven by a tired looking man. Seated next to him was a thin, serious man with glasses and a grim look on his face, clutching a leather portfolio. Even though he wore a uniform similar to the others, he didn't look like much of a soldier. Behind the wagon stood men and boys with duffel bags, knapsacks and blankets. I guessed they were the recruits from previous towns.
The officer rose in the stirrups to begin his speech. “Fellow citizens!” he boomed. “Before you, is an example of the splendor of the French army led by our emperor, Napoleon!” Here, he paused while the crowd cheered. “You know about the victories of the French army: Toulon, Lodi, Arcola, Rivoli, the Pyramids, Aboukir, Marengo, Ulm, Austerlitz, Friedland, Madrid, and Wagram. Today, you are given the opportunity to become a part of this proud and honored profession - to wear the uniform of the Grande Armée!” There was more cheering. The ones who had come to enlist were smiling and elbowing each other.
The officer continued: “The Emperor needs fine young men to step forward and enlist so that the victories may continue and France can reign over her empire.” The crowd cheered again, and he concluded, “I now invite all eligible men to step forward to the table and enlist.” He held out his hand toward a desk where the serious looking man was sitting. It had been set up during the officer's speech, but no one had noticed. A soldier was standing at attention on either side of a small bench sitting in front of the desk.
There was a rush to be first in line. The first man sat at the bench and began to answer questions from the serious man who then recorded the answers on a sheet of paper. We made our way to the end of the line as a family. Steadily, we moved closer to the front. Then, it was Luc's turn. My breathing became heavier and my throat was tight.
When finished, Luc stood up and stepped aside for me. The man behind the desk was still writing while I sat down. With his eyes on the paper in front of him, he asked me my name. I tried to speak, but couldn't. The man looked up. “What is this? A boy?” he said as he looked over his glasses at me. “The French army does not need a boy.” He emphasized the word “boy.”
I cleared my throat and said, “Henri Carle.”
The man ignored me and said, “How old are you, fourteen? Come back in three years.”
“Thirteen, sir,” I answered.
“Who is next?” But I was the last one in line. “Be off!” the man said in a loud, angry voice. “You are trying my patience.”
My father now stepped forward and said, “Please sir, I want my boys to stay together. It is important to us.”
“I don't care about that,” the clerk snapped. “My job is to enlist men, not a boy who should be home with a wet nurse.” The nearby crowd, including the new recruits, laughed, and the man smiled, pleased with himself.
The commotion had gotten the attention of the officer on horseback. Riding over, he asked the man behind the desk why there was a delay. The clerk began to gather his papers and replied, “I was just talking to one of the local children and encouraging him to enlist when he grows up.” The crowd laughed again.
My father had been looking at the officer intently. Finally, he spoke: “Major Briere, sir. Please. I want my sons to enlist together so they can look out for one another.” The officer looked at my father.
“How do you know my name?” he asked. My father didn't answer, but Major Briere continued to look at him with his eyes narrowed as if he were trying to make a connection in his mind. “Jacques Carle?” he asked. My father nodded. “You want your boys to enlist together?” Again, my father nodded, this time with an expression of sorrow on his face. The clerk sat frozen, watching this exchange with his papers half way in the portfolio. Briere turned to him and said, “This boy is too young to enlist, but we will take him along and find a place for him with the army. If he is anything like his father, the army needs as many of him as it can find.”
The crowd turned to look at my father who was standing with his hat in his hand looking at the ground. My father nodded and said, “Thank you, sir.” I looked back and forth between the two of them. How did they know each other? My father had served in the French army during the American War for Independence. They must have known each other from those days, but that was thirty years ago. Major Briere drew his sword, held the hilt to his nose then swept the blade down in a graceful motion. It was a salute to my father.
Major Briere straightened up and yelled, “Form up! All new enlistees take your place at the end of the column.” The drums sounded and the new recruits moved to the end of the line. I gasped and fought back tears as my father and aunt hugged Luc and me. Luc took me by the shoulder and led me away. As the column began to march out of the square, I looked desperately into the crowd, but I could not find my father.
Chapter 3 - Recruiting Party
The column continued out of town heading north past some of the familiar places where Luc and I had played. Once we passed out of our town, we stopped, and the soldiers climbed into the wagon. They weren't going to walk to the next town, but we were.
The soles of my shoes were worn thin, and I could feel the stones in the road. The day began to get hotter. The column stopped every few hours so we could drink from a stream. Nobody had a canteen.
Gradually, the feeling of sadness eased, and I started to get hungry. Luc reached into his duffel and pulled out a piece of bread and some egg wrapped in a cloth. “Aunt Agnes thought you might feel hungry later,” he said as he handed me the bundle.
Some of the recruits looked around and nudged each. “How about sharing some of your army rations, General?” one of the boys said mockingly. Luc shot him a look that caused the boy to smirk and turn back to his buddies.
As we approached the next town, the Sergeant, whose name was Bayard, came back along the column and spoke to us. “We are going into this town to find more lucky beggars like yourselves,” he said. “Stay back out of the way. Don't talk to anyone, don't wander off. You are enlisted soldiers now despite your sorry appearance. Wandering off will be considered desertion and the penalty for desertion is death.” He grinned and turned back to the head of the column.
The scene from Obernai was repeated. We left the town to the sounds of cheers from the crowd and cries from distraught mothers. The days continued on this way as we marched first north, then west. Our column of recruits grew with each stop.
Two or three times a day we would be fed. A basket of bread along with potatoes or radishes would be produced, and everyone would crowd around. Once, when neither Luc nor me got a share, Luc wanted to tell the Sergeant. A group of older boys were standing nearby and one of the bigger ones with reddish hair said mockingly, “Wots da matta? Did sumbody's mommy forget to feed him?” The other boys in his group laughed. The boy was looking straight at me. “Better go tell your mommy.”
My face burned with embarrassment. I was afraid of this mean boy who had singled me out for ridicule. I wished I could just sink into the ground and disappear.
“Leave him alone!” Luc growled.
“Oh, are you the big bruver? Why don't you both go hide behind mommy's skirt?” the big boy said.
One of the boys in his group said, “Good one, Gaston.”
Luc walked up to Gaston, and they stood chest to chest. Gaston was looking down on Luc. “Do you have a problem?” Gaston said through clenched teeth.
Luc replied through his own clenched teeth, “Leave us alone.”
“Is there someone here who can make me?”
Just then, a loud voice said with authority, “I can.” Everyone turned to see Sergeant Bayard glaring at us. Luc and Gaston stepped apart. “There will be no fighting. Do you know what the penalty for fighting is?” He paused and looked around at the group before saying, “Death.”
“I don't have time to take care of a wandering nursery. The next one who gives me trouble is going to get a thrashing before we shoot him. Now form up into a column and let's go.”
The lack of food combined with the intense heat made for a miserable day. I often found myself wondering what my father was doing or what I would be doing if I were with him. I might have been just as hungry, but at least I would have been home.
We halted at dusk that day, outside a large town. The cart went on ahead and returned with a basket of bread. This time Luc and I made sure we received our share and ate the day old bread with vigor. There wasn't any water around. The day of walking and the hard bread soon worked up a powerful thirst in everyone.
The sergeant came back to us and said, “We're staying here for the night. Find yourselves a comfortable tree to sleep under.”
One of the recruits said, “We need water.”
The sergeant looked over the group and said, “Didn't you bring your canteens? If you're thirsty, that isn't my problem.” As he spoke, he lifted his canteen and took a long, satisfying drink, wiped his mouth, and sighed, “That was good.” Then he strode off. I wasn't liking army life so far, and I wasn't even in the army.
Luc and I found a large tree a little ways off from the group. We settled down with our backs against the tree and just stared. Off in the distance, we could see the mountains, just like at home.
“Why did father have to send us off like that?” I asked quietly.
“You know he had to. With his health the way it is there wasn't any way he could support us this winter when things will get even harder. At least in the army, we'll have a place to stay and food to eat.” After he said this last part, we both looked at each other and broke out laughing. Here we were, sitting under a tree where we would have to spend the night. The only food in our stomachs all day had been the hard bread we'd just eaten, and we didn't have anything to drink. The army wasn't doing such a good job of taking care of us.
When we were done laughing, Luc continued, “You know I'd been talking to father about letting me enlist. I didn't know you would be pulled into it with me. I'm sorry.”
“I know he did what was best.” I replied. “And I am glad you and I are together.”
“That's right, and we will stick together.”
I smiled as I leaned back and fell asleep.
The winter wind was blowing snow against the side of the house with an angry howl. I turned from the bookshelf and shuffled back to my chair by the fireplace holding a battered but much cherished book. I liked the winters here at the foot of the mountains. The cold gave me an excuse to sit by the fire with my wife and read or reminisce about our long life together. As often happened, the blustery night drew me to the old book I had purchased more than fifty years ago - a book from which all but the first twenty pages were now missing. It reminded me of the blessings of this warm house and my life, especially tonight when our grandchildren were visiting.
When my youngest grandson, Nathanael, saw what I had in my hand, he was disappointed and asked, “Can’t you read us an adventure story tonight?”
“Yes, Grandpa, that old book doesn’t even have all its pages,” my elder grandson, Jaye, pointed out. “Why do you keep it?”
“This book saved my life,” I told the boys. “It is part of an adventure that means more to me than any work of fiction.”
Jaye looked at me quizzically, but I changed the subject by turning to my granddaughter, Helene, and asking, “What are you studying in school?”
“We are learning about Napoleon Bonaparte and all his victories. He was a great leader from a long time ago,” she said.
“Oh, it wasn’t all that long ago,” I said and then added, “I met him once, you know.”
“What!” Helene exclaimed dropping her needlepoint and sitting up straight. “Where?”
“In Russia,” I answered calmly.
“Russia?” exclaimed Jaye. “That’s thousands of miles from here.”
“Was it just you and Napoleon in Russia?” Nathanael asked wide-eyed.
“No. I went there with the Grande Armée of more than half a million men,” I answered. “Only 20,000 of us returned,” I added staring at the fire and fingering my book.
“What happened to the ones who didn’t make it back?” Helene wanted to know.
“Tell us how the book saved your life,” my grandsons pleaded.
“It is actually the same story, but it may take a while to tell,” I looked at my wife inquiringly.
“There is time before bed if you make it the short version,” she said smiling as she put her hand on my arm.
“Yes, my gentle lamb, the short version,” I smiled back placing my hand over hers.
“Let’s see, it all started in 1811 when I was 13 years old - about your age,” I said, looking at Helene. “We lived right here in Obernai. My mother had died that spring so my Aunt Agnes came to live with my father, my brother Luc, and me. Aunt Agnes didn’t have children of her own. She seemed cold and distant most of the time. I missed my mother every day.
“Our country had been at war off and on for years, and life was hard. My father had been wounded while serving in the French army. I imagined that he had been wounded doing something heroic, but my father didn’t talk about it. Eventually, the injury's lingering effect had forced him to give up farming. He made a meager living working odd jobs. Losing my mother’s income as a seamstress was a real blow to the family.”
As I continued to talk, I was taken back to that fateful morning. I could see the little room so clearly in my mind, though it was now decades past. When I awoke on that long ago day, I did not know that I would become part of something so vast and tragic that it changed the course of world history.
Chapter 1 - The World Turns Upside Down
The sun was just beginning to show signs of rising on that summer day when I stretched and got out of bed. My older brother Luc was still asleep. He was four years older than me and liked to sleep as much as possible. I heard the voices of my aunt and father talking downstairs. It wasn't the usual everyday conversation. There was an emotional edge to it, and my father sounded upset. Had something happened?
A loud exchange made me hurry downstairs without changing out of my nightshirt. I saw my aunt sitting at our table, straight and proper as usual and my father standing at the fireplace leaning against the mantel with his head hidden in his arm. The room had become quiet upon my entry, and the clock on the mantel, our most valuable possession, sounded loud in the stillness. I stood at the base of the stairs and looked at them, afraid to speak.
My father straightened, turned to me and said, “Go get your brother.”
I raced back up the stairs and shook Luc awake.
“Aunt Agnes and Father are arguing about something. They want to talk with us. Hurry.” In no time we were downstairs where my father asked us to take a seat at the table.
“As you know,” he began, “things have not been going well for our family. Your aunt and I,” he said, glancing at my stoic aunt, “do not think we will be able to provide for all of us when things get worse this winter.”
“We'll get by,” I broke in, “we always do.”
My father looked up, smiled weakly, then reached over and gave my arm a squeeze. “Your aunt and I,” he continued, “have decided that it is best if you boys were taken care of.” He now began to speak faster as if to get out the unpleasant part as quickly as possible. “There is an army recruiting party coming through town today. Luc is old enough to join now and you, Henri, will go along with him. Even though you aren't old enough to enlist, we'll see if we can get you in somehow. We think that at least in the army you will be fed.”
Luc beamed. He had talked about joining the military, wearing a handsome uniform and performing feats of bravery. I was stunned. I liked to play at war with my friends re-enacting the many battles France had won under our emperor Napoleon. But I wasn't ready for this.
My father continued. “If I could think of a way to provide for us all, I would do it. Right now, the army offers the best chance.” He hung his head. Now he spoke slowly. “Your aunt has gathered together the things you will need and there is a duffel bag for each of you. Go upstairs and get dressed.”
I started to say something, but my father gave me a look that said the conversation was over. I followed Luc upstairs. “Can you believe it? We're joining the army and marching to glory!” he said excitedly as he extended his right arm in the air as if holding a sword. I looked at him, not knowing what to say. I felt like I would cry. My life had taken a sharp turn, and I wanted things to go back to the way things were before Mother died.
Luc saw my anguished look. He put his arm around my shoulder and stood next to me. “I know it's hard,” he said holding me tight to his side, “but we'll be together. I'll look out for you. It will be the Carle boys seeing the world.” That wasn't what I wanted to hear. His arm slipped from around my shoulder. “Look,” he said in a serious voice. “Father and Aunt Agnes wouldn't do this if they thought there was any other way. The French army is the best in the world. To be a soldier is the most honorable thing we can do. We'll be fine, you’ll see.”
Back downstairs, we found my aunt making eggs for breakfast, something we almost never had. I looked at my father. He looked back at me with tears in his eyes. I burst out crying and ran to him, burying my head in his chest. We stood there for a long moment, then he took me by both shoulders and held me at arm’s length. “I believe in my boys,” he said. “You'll know what to do. I can't be with you, but that doesn't mean I won't be thinking of you.”
Breakfast was eaten in silence. There was so much to say, but where to start? I wasn't very hungry and for the first time in my life, couldn't finish a meal.
My aunt brought out the two duffel bags she had packed with extra socks, a thick knit hat and a pair of warm mittens. There was also a thin blanket and tin drinking cup. My aunt put half a loaf of bread on top of each pile for the journey. The sight of the winter hat and mittens reminded me that I would be gone for a long time. My throat began to tighten, and my eyes burned with the effort of holding back more tears.
My father suddenly spoke up, “I know I haven't talked much about my time in the army. I didn't think what I did mattered much here, but there was one thing I learned.” He paused and then continued, “Sometimes, the line between victory and disaster is thin. A break one way or another can undo the best laid plans. But, if you are always prepared and thinking ahead, you'll make it through.”
“Here, take these,” my father added, and he pressed a few coins into each of our hands.
We all walked out into the cool morning and headed for the town square. A crowd had gathered. We weren't the only ones who would be joining that day. I didn't see anyone as young as me, though. My father greeted some of the men he knew, and they looked at Luc and me with satisfaction. The women, though, looked at us with an expression of sadness.
Chapter 2 - Enlistment
The sound of fifes and drums came echoing down the street between the buildings and out into the town square. The musicians were sharply dressed in white and blue regimental coats with lace around the lapels and down the arms. Each wore a sword with a polished handle. Behind them were six soldiers wearing light blue coats. On their heads, they wore tall fur covered hats. They were big men and the hats made them look like giants.
Leading the contingent was a heavy-set officer riding a large gray horse. He looked like he was a few years older than my father. His face was distinguished by a large mustache. He carried his sword in his right hand with the blade resting against his shoulder. Upon a sharp command from one of the drummers, the procession came to a halt. They made a spectacular sight, and the crowd fell silent captivated by the splendor before them. The officer put his sword away, and the sound of the blade echoed around the square as it slid into the sheath and ended with a metallic click. I forgot for a moment why we were there.
Trailing the soldiers at a distance, so as not to be noticed, was a wagon being driven by a tired looking man. Seated next to him was a thin, serious man with glasses and a grim look on his face, clutching a leather portfolio. Even though he wore a uniform similar to the others, he didn't look like much of a soldier. Behind the wagon stood men and boys with duffel bags, knapsacks and blankets. I guessed they were the recruits from previous towns.
The officer rose in the stirrups to begin his speech. “Fellow citizens!” he boomed. “Before you, is an example of the splendor of the French army led by our emperor, Napoleon!” Here, he paused while the crowd cheered. “You know about the victories of the French army: Toulon, Lodi, Arcola, Rivoli, the Pyramids, Aboukir, Marengo, Ulm, Austerlitz, Friedland, Madrid, and Wagram. Today, you are given the opportunity to become a part of this proud and honored profession - to wear the uniform of the Grande Armée!” There was more cheering. The ones who had come to enlist were smiling and elbowing each other.
The officer continued: “The Emperor needs fine young men to step forward and enlist so that the victories may continue and France can reign over her empire.” The crowd cheered again, and he concluded, “I now invite all eligible men to step forward to the table and enlist.” He held out his hand toward a desk where the serious looking man was sitting. It had been set up during the officer's speech, but no one had noticed. A soldier was standing at attention on either side of a small bench sitting in front of the desk.
There was a rush to be first in line. The first man sat at the bench and began to answer questions from the serious man who then recorded the answers on a sheet of paper. We made our way to the end of the line as a family. Steadily, we moved closer to the front. Then, it was Luc's turn. My breathing became heavier and my throat was tight.
When finished, Luc stood up and stepped aside for me. The man behind the desk was still writing while I sat down. With his eyes on the paper in front of him, he asked me my name. I tried to speak, but couldn't. The man looked up. “What is this? A boy?” he said as he looked over his glasses at me. “The French army does not need a boy.” He emphasized the word “boy.”
I cleared my throat and said, “Henri Carle.”
The man ignored me and said, “How old are you, fourteen? Come back in three years.”
“Thirteen, sir,” I answered.
“Who is next?” But I was the last one in line. “Be off!” the man said in a loud, angry voice. “You are trying my patience.”
My father now stepped forward and said, “Please sir, I want my boys to stay together. It is important to us.”
“I don't care about that,” the clerk snapped. “My job is to enlist men, not a boy who should be home with a wet nurse.” The nearby crowd, including the new recruits, laughed, and the man smiled, pleased with himself.
The commotion had gotten the attention of the officer on horseback. Riding over, he asked the man behind the desk why there was a delay. The clerk began to gather his papers and replied, “I was just talking to one of the local children and encouraging him to enlist when he grows up.” The crowd laughed again.
My father had been looking at the officer intently. Finally, he spoke: “Major Briere, sir. Please. I want my sons to enlist together so they can look out for one another.” The officer looked at my father.
“How do you know my name?” he asked. My father didn't answer, but Major Briere continued to look at him with his eyes narrowed as if he were trying to make a connection in his mind. “Jacques Carle?” he asked. My father nodded. “You want your boys to enlist together?” Again, my father nodded, this time with an expression of sorrow on his face. The clerk sat frozen, watching this exchange with his papers half way in the portfolio. Briere turned to him and said, “This boy is too young to enlist, but we will take him along and find a place for him with the army. If he is anything like his father, the army needs as many of him as it can find.”
The crowd turned to look at my father who was standing with his hat in his hand looking at the ground. My father nodded and said, “Thank you, sir.” I looked back and forth between the two of them. How did they know each other? My father had served in the French army during the American War for Independence. They must have known each other from those days, but that was thirty years ago. Major Briere drew his sword, held the hilt to his nose then swept the blade down in a graceful motion. It was a salute to my father.
Major Briere straightened up and yelled, “Form up! All new enlistees take your place at the end of the column.” The drums sounded and the new recruits moved to the end of the line. I gasped and fought back tears as my father and aunt hugged Luc and me. Luc took me by the shoulder and led me away. As the column began to march out of the square, I looked desperately into the crowd, but I could not find my father.
Chapter 3 - Recruiting Party
The column continued out of town heading north past some of the familiar places where Luc and I had played. Once we passed out of our town, we stopped, and the soldiers climbed into the wagon. They weren't going to walk to the next town, but we were.
The soles of my shoes were worn thin, and I could feel the stones in the road. The day began to get hotter. The column stopped every few hours so we could drink from a stream. Nobody had a canteen.
Gradually, the feeling of sadness eased, and I started to get hungry. Luc reached into his duffel and pulled out a piece of bread and some egg wrapped in a cloth. “Aunt Agnes thought you might feel hungry later,” he said as he handed me the bundle.
Some of the recruits looked around and nudged each. “How about sharing some of your army rations, General?” one of the boys said mockingly. Luc shot him a look that caused the boy to smirk and turn back to his buddies.
As we approached the next town, the Sergeant, whose name was Bayard, came back along the column and spoke to us. “We are going into this town to find more lucky beggars like yourselves,” he said. “Stay back out of the way. Don't talk to anyone, don't wander off. You are enlisted soldiers now despite your sorry appearance. Wandering off will be considered desertion and the penalty for desertion is death.” He grinned and turned back to the head of the column.
The scene from Obernai was repeated. We left the town to the sounds of cheers from the crowd and cries from distraught mothers. The days continued on this way as we marched first north, then west. Our column of recruits grew with each stop.
Two or three times a day we would be fed. A basket of bread along with potatoes or radishes would be produced, and everyone would crowd around. Once, when neither Luc nor me got a share, Luc wanted to tell the Sergeant. A group of older boys were standing nearby and one of the bigger ones with reddish hair said mockingly, “Wots da matta? Did sumbody's mommy forget to feed him?” The other boys in his group laughed. The boy was looking straight at me. “Better go tell your mommy.”
My face burned with embarrassment. I was afraid of this mean boy who had singled me out for ridicule. I wished I could just sink into the ground and disappear.
“Leave him alone!” Luc growled.
“Oh, are you the big bruver? Why don't you both go hide behind mommy's skirt?” the big boy said.
One of the boys in his group said, “Good one, Gaston.”
Luc walked up to Gaston, and they stood chest to chest. Gaston was looking down on Luc. “Do you have a problem?” Gaston said through clenched teeth.
Luc replied through his own clenched teeth, “Leave us alone.”
“Is there someone here who can make me?”
Just then, a loud voice said with authority, “I can.” Everyone turned to see Sergeant Bayard glaring at us. Luc and Gaston stepped apart. “There will be no fighting. Do you know what the penalty for fighting is?” He paused and looked around at the group before saying, “Death.”
“I don't have time to take care of a wandering nursery. The next one who gives me trouble is going to get a thrashing before we shoot him. Now form up into a column and let's go.”
The lack of food combined with the intense heat made for a miserable day. I often found myself wondering what my father was doing or what I would be doing if I were with him. I might have been just as hungry, but at least I would have been home.
We halted at dusk that day, outside a large town. The cart went on ahead and returned with a basket of bread. This time Luc and I made sure we received our share and ate the day old bread with vigor. There wasn't any water around. The day of walking and the hard bread soon worked up a powerful thirst in everyone.
The sergeant came back to us and said, “We're staying here for the night. Find yourselves a comfortable tree to sleep under.”
One of the recruits said, “We need water.”
The sergeant looked over the group and said, “Didn't you bring your canteens? If you're thirsty, that isn't my problem.” As he spoke, he lifted his canteen and took a long, satisfying drink, wiped his mouth, and sighed, “That was good.” Then he strode off. I wasn't liking army life so far, and I wasn't even in the army.
Luc and I found a large tree a little ways off from the group. We settled down with our backs against the tree and just stared. Off in the distance, we could see the mountains, just like at home.
“Why did father have to send us off like that?” I asked quietly.
“You know he had to. With his health the way it is there wasn't any way he could support us this winter when things will get even harder. At least in the army, we'll have a place to stay and food to eat.” After he said this last part, we both looked at each other and broke out laughing. Here we were, sitting under a tree where we would have to spend the night. The only food in our stomachs all day had been the hard bread we'd just eaten, and we didn't have anything to drink. The army wasn't doing such a good job of taking care of us.
When we were done laughing, Luc continued, “You know I'd been talking to father about letting me enlist. I didn't know you would be pulled into it with me. I'm sorry.”
“I know he did what was best.” I replied. “And I am glad you and I are together.”
“That's right, and we will stick together.”
I smiled as I leaned back and fell asleep.
