Chapter 3 FRANCE SUFFERING BUT NOT BLED WHITE

Listen to the man in the street when he speaks-that man in the street who reflects public opinion whether it is just or unjust, genuine or sophisticated. Listen to him when he speaks and you will hear him say:

"Yes, we know. France has a well tempered spirit. But the blood is gone out of her body. France would like to fight on, to fight to the bitter end, but France is suffering. France is worn out. France is bled white."

France is suffering ... that is true. In the cataclysm that she did not wish for, that she did not start, that she did not prepare, she has lost more than a million men. And what men they were! The Ecole Normale, which is the preparatory school for the French university, lost seventy per cent of its pupils. That means that three-quarters of the thinkers, the literary men, the scientists, the philosophers, the professors of the France of tomorrow have been wiped out. They were the flower of her youth, the élite of her intelligence. Add to that seven departments, roughly 20,000 square kilometers in area, which have been invaded, devastated, ruined and pillaged. In these seven departments all the machinery, all the raw materials, all the merchandise, all the furniture even to the door-knobs and the boards in the floors have been taken away. These departments were among the richest and most prosperous of those on which France prided herself most industrially.

Add to that the cultivation that has been destroyed, the soil that has been made untillable, the trees that have been cut down, the roads that have been torn up and the bridges that have been destroyed. All the misery, all the mourning, all the sickness: a million wounded and injured men who have been lost as living forces by a nation which did not have too many inhabitants. Add the hundred thousand prisoners Germany sends back to us who have been made tuberculous, paralytics, nervous wrecks or lunatics because they have been physically maltreated. Yes, France is suffering.

But it is not true that she is worn out. It is not true that she is bled white. The horrible hope Germany had formed of emptying France of her strength, of leaving her, fighting for breath and conquered, beaten to the earth for centuries to come, has not been realized. France always stands upright, her arm is still strong, her muscles vigorous and her blood rich.

To destroy the lie that France is bled white, we must let figures, facts, statistics and definite proofs speak. The public shall judge for itself....

A nation that is worn out and bled white has no army to defend itself. France not only still has an army, but she has an army that is numerically and materially stronger than it was at the war's beginning. In 1914, at the Marne, France had an army of 1,500,000 men; today, after four years of war, France has on her battle front, in the war zone, an army of 2,750,000 men.

But the value of fighting men today lies only in the artillery they have to support them behind the lines. It lies in the shells the artillery is able to fire, in all that material that makes up the sinews of war of the present day. Here we find the most extraordinary and marvelous effort that history records. France, invaded, occupied, weakened; France that had no munitions industry prior to 1914-or a small munitions industry at best-that France has built up a war industry that is doubtless the best in the world, which is equal to the German war industry and on which the Allies can draw in the common cause.

Listen to these figures and keep them in your heads. They are vouched for by M. Millerand, who was minister of war during the first year of hostilities:

The Battle of the Marne emptied our storehouses.

On the seventeenth of September, 1914, the minister of war, who had then been scarcely three weeks in office, was informed that munitions threatened to fail our artillery, and that it was necessary without delay to bring to the front 100,000 shells per day instead of 13,500 for the .75 guns. This was merely a beginning. Three days later, on the twentieth of September, the minister assembled at Bordeaux the representatives of the munitions industry and divided them up into regional groups. At the head of each one he made one establishment or one individual the responsible person. In the face of difficulties which could not be conceived unless they had been overcome, with establishments diminished in personnel as well as in raw material, inexperienced for the most part in the complex and delicate operations which were expected of them, the manufacture of shells for the .75's mounted from 147,000 which it had been in the month of August, 1914, to 1,970,000 in the month of January, 1915, and then to 3,396,000 during the month of July, 1915.

222 .75 guns per month have been constructed since the month of May, 1915. 227 were constructed in the month of July, 407 in the month of January, 1916. For this construction, as for all the others, once a start was made, there was no stopping it.

All orders for heavy guns had been countermanded at the beginning of August, 1914. They were resumed in the month of September, 1914. Seventy-five per cent of the orders for heavy guns, on which we got along until April, 1917, had been given out between September, 1914, and the thirty-first of October, 1915. In the first seven months of the war, from September, 1914, to April, 1915, there were constructed three hundred and sixty pieces of heavy artillery. On August first, 1914, we had only sixty-eight batteries. A year later, to the day, on the first of August, 1915, we had two hundred and seventy-two batteries of heavy artillery.

Now consider these figures, given out by M. André Tardieu, High Commissioner of the French Republic at Washington, in a letter to the Hon. Newton D. Baker, Secretary of War:

In the matter of heavy artillery, in August, 1914, we had only three hundred guns distributed among the various regiments. In June, 1917, we had six thousand heavy guns, all of them modern. During our spring offensive in 1917, we had roughly one heavy gun for every twenty-six meters of front. If we had brought together all our heavy artillery and all our trench artillery, we would have had one gun for every eight meters in the battle sector.

In August, 1914, we were making twelve thousand shells for the .75's per day, now we are making two hundred and fifty thousand shells for the .75's and one hundred thousand shells for the heavy guns per day.

If you wish to consider the weight of the shells which fell on the German trenches during our last offensives, you will find the following figures for each linear meter:

Field artillery 407 kilos

Trench artillery 203 kilos

Heavy artillery 704 kilos

High Power artillery 12 kilos

--

Total 1442 kilos

And these are the figures for the monthly expenditure in munitions for the .75's alone:

July, 1916 6,400,000 shells

September, 1916 7,000,000 shells

October, 1916 5,500,000 shells

During the last offensive the total expenditure amounted to twelve million projectiles of all calibers.

This incomparable war industry has permitted us not only to fight, to defend ourselves and to attack the enemy, but also to supply our friends, our Allies, with the munitions necessary to fight. Up to January, 1918, these are the amounts of munitions France was able to hand over to the nations fighting at her side in Europe:

1,350,000 rifles

800,000,000 cartridges

16,000,000 automatic rifles

10,000 mitrailleuses

2,500 heavy guns

4,750 airplanes

And to France has come the honor of making the light artillery for the American Army-amounting to several hundred guns per month.

* * *

A nation that is worn out and bled white has an empty treasury and is no longer able to obtain taxes from its ruined citizens. Let us consider what France had done in a financial way in this war.

From the first of August, 1914, to the first of January, 1918, the French Parliament voted war credits amounting to twenty billions of dollars. Of this enormous fund only two billions have been borrowed from outside sources; all the remainder has been subscribed or paid for by taxation or by loans in France herself. More than a billion dollars has been loaned to her Allies by France.

In 1917 France had the heaviest budget in all her history. The single item of taxes was raised to six billion francs ($1,200,000), and these taxes were paid to the penny, although ten million Frenchmen were mobilized in the Army, in the factories, and on the farms, or were untaxable in the occupied regions.

In 1915, 1916 and 1917 France raised three great national loans. That of 1915 amounted to exactly 13,307,811,579 francs, 40 centimes, of which 6,017 millions were paid in hard cash. That of October, 1916, amounted in round numbers to ten billions francs, of which more than five billions were paid in hard cash. That of December, 1917, amounted to 10,629,000,000 francs, of which 5,254 millions were paid in cash.

Thus, in spite of the war, her invaded territories, and her mobilized citizens, France has in three years raised three national loans of almost seventeen billions francs in hard cash. That is three times the amount of the war indemnity she paid Prussia in 1871.

A nation worn out and bled white has no more monetary reserve, no more funds in its treasury, and has been brought into bankruptcy. The Bank of France, which is probably the leading national bank in the world, whose credit has never weakened in the gravest hours of the nation's history, declared on the first of January, 1918, a gold reserve of 5,348 millions of francs, an increase of 272 millions over the gold in hand on January first, 1917. This is the greatest deposit the bank has ever had. All this came from the national resources: the weekly payments are still a million and a half francs, which are paid without compulsion and without legal processes.

The individual deposits in the great credit establishments of France which, on the thirty-first of December, 1914, amounted to only 4,050 millions of francs, amounted to 6,050 millions on the thirty-first of December, 1917.

And during the first three months of the year 1918, from the first of January to the thirty-first of March, the surplus deposits made by the peasants and the working classes in the National Saving Bank was seventy-five millions of francs, an excess of more than eight hundred thousand francs daily.

* * *

A nation that is worn out and bled white is incapable of manufacturing and sees its commerce and industry perish. Here is the statement of M. Georges Pallain, Governor of the Bank of France, representing the accounting of the Counsel General of the Bank for 1917:

From the industrial and commercial point of view, a satisfactory amelioration is noticeable. The investigation of the Minister of Industry in July last permits the statement that the percentage of factories and business houses rendering a periodical accounting, of which the advantage is not yet established, is only twenty-three per cent; it was fifty-five per cent in August, 1914.

An indication of the development of industrial activity is furnished by the continued increase of the demand for coal.

Operations for mining ore have been pushed with vigor. Coal production increased greatly in 1914. On the whole it still remains less than it was before the war, since the invasion has deprived us of the valleys in the north and the richest portion of Pas-de-Calais; but in the regions where mining is still possible the production exceeds by about forty per cent the figures for 1913.

This remarkable increase has compensated to a certain extent for the falling off in the importations of coal from England; nevertheless it leaves our supply of coal less than our demand for it.

To remedy this insufficiency and, at the same time, to give our national industry greater independence, researches and experiments have been equally intensified with a view to employing our hydraulic resources. In the Alps, in the Pyrenees and in the central Massif new installations are under way, and they have already attracted important metallurgic and chemical plants.

The development of industrial production has had the result of an increase in the volume of commercial transactions. These continue to look after themselves and, for the most part, they are on a cash basis. The gradual resumption of credit operations, which former years signalized, is still on the increase. In 1917 the receipts from commerce were thirty-seven per cent greater than in 1916. There is a notable progression of discounts, while the total of our delayed payments has been brought back to 1,140 millions.

A nation that is worn out and bled white is unable to bind up its wounds or relieve its bed of suffering. France has not waited for the end of the war and the evacuation of her territory to bring in life where the Germans thought they had left only death.

In eighty-four of the liberated cantons the work of reconstruction has already commenced. Commissions have been appointed. These commissions have proceeded already to the evaluation of the damage done and, without waiting for authorization, the administration has paid advances amounting to a not inconsiderable figure. Thus a sum totalling more than one hundred and forty millions francs has been expended for the reconstruction of the liberated regions. Seventeen millions have been expended in cash for repairs; in advances to the farmers for work or supplies, twenty millions; in advances to workmen, a half million; for the circulation of funds to the farmers, merchants and small manufactures, two millions; under the heading of reconstruction of buildings or the rapid reinstallation of the evacuated population, one hundred millions.

An Office National de Reconstruction for the villages has been established, and an agricultural Office National de Reconstitution has been organized; great things have already been realized from private organizations. This is the account of what one of them, the organization of National Nurseries, sent in 1914 to the front and into the liberated regions:

6,717,575 cabbage plants

1,980,000 turnip and rutabaga plants

41,000 radish plants

27,200 cauliflowers

270,250 white beets

5,340,500 leek plants

1,836,800 chicory and endive plants

104,500 celery plants

105,000 tomato plants

16,900 tarragon plants

9,569,450 onion sprouts

26,009,175 total plants of various kinds.

These plants have been divided up into 2,436 shipments, and they have sufficed to nourish not only the people who have returned to the devastated villages but also the troops at the front.

* * *

A nation that is worn out and bled white has no colonies, or, if she has, these same colonies are likewise bloodless and worn out. The French colonial empire remains intact while the German colonial empire has disappeared from the face of the earth. The support the colonies brought to the mother country is wonderful and deserves a separate study on its own account.

Here is the picture the celebrated German colonial empire offers.

In 1914 Germany possessed a colonial empire two million square kilometers in area. It represented approximately four times the area of the German Empire, and before the war its exports amounted to about one hundred millions of francs or twenty-five millions of dollars. There were German Southwest Africa, 35,000 square kilometers in extent, with 1,750 kilometers of railroads, with its copper and diamond mines, its metals which were worth commercially thirty-seven millions of marks in 1911; German East Africa, twice as big as the German Empire, having 1,225 kilometers of railroads, with its harbors where nine hundred and thirty-three merchant ships had touched in 1911; German New Guinea, as large as two-thirds of Prussia, with its rich deposits of gold and coal, its maritime commerce of 240,000 tons; the Samoan Islands, one single port of which, Apia, was visited by one hundred and ten steamers in a year; Tsing-Tao which, in 1911, had exported 32,500,000 marks' worth of merchandise, whose maritime interest was represented by five hundred and ninety steamers which carried a million tons of freight. All that has fallen away; all that is actually in the hands of the Allies.

The conquest was difficult; it was finished only in 1916. An order of the day of General Aymerich, commander-in-chief of the troops which conquered Kameroon, points with brief eloquence to some of the difficulties which have been overcome:

Officers, Europeans and troops who are natives of Africa and Belgian Congo.

At the cost of hardship and unheard-of efforts, you have just wrenched from the Germans one of their best and richest colonies.

Followed without a minute's respite from possession to possession, the enemy has been obliged to abandon the last bit of Kameroon. For eighteen months you have experienced the torrid heat of the days and the cold dampness of the nights without a change, you have been under the torrential equatorial rains, you have traversed impassable forests and fetid marshes, you have without a rest taken the enemy's positions one after another, leaving dead in each one a number of your comrades. Lacking food and often without munitions, with your clothing in tatters, you have continued your glorious march without complaint or murmur, until you have attained the end for which you set out.

In this conquest France played a large part, just as was the case in the conquest of Togoland, with her Senegalese Tirailleurs, the famous Tirailleurs, so much decried and discussed before the war, who were to win the admiration of the English generals under whose orders they fought.

It is appropriate to cite here the order of the day of the commanding officer of these troops, because it shows us a side of the colonial wars, about which little has been said:

An English detachment under the command of Lieutenant Thomson having been strongly repulsed in an attack on the post at Kamina, was reinforced by a group of the Senegalese Tirailleurs made up of a sergeant, two corporals, and fourteen Blacks. From the beginning of the encounter at eleven o'clock, the mixed detachment found itself exposed to a lively fire from positions that were solidly established and supported by mitrailleuses. After the artillery had commenced firing Lieutenant Thomson, considering that the preparation was sufficient, bravely led his troop on to the attack. This courageous initiative failed under a severe fire from fifty meters of German trenches. Lieutenant Thomson fell mortally wounded. However, the Senegalese Tirailleurs, faithful to that tradition which has already proved its value in our colonial epic by such famous exploits, refused to abandon the body of the unknown leader their captain had given them and continued to hold their position. When the fight was over and the enemy was in flight, the bodies of the sergeant, the two corporals, and of nine dead and four wounded Tirailleurs were found stretched out alongside the English officer and an under officer who was also English. In the very spot where they were found, their tomb surrounds that of Lieutenant Thomson. United in death, they still seem to watch over the strange officer-unknown to them-for whom they sacrificed their lives because their leader had given them orders to do so.

Of the German colonial empire, four times as big as the fatherland, not a spot exists that is not in the hands of the Allies today. England holds the greater part; Japan has Tsing-Tao; France a considerable part of the African possessions.

Now let us look at the picture the French colonial empire offers.

In 1914 France ruled, in the north of Africa, over five and a half millions of natives in Algiers, two millions in Tunis and four millions in Morocco. When the war broke out there was not a single German in Morocco who was not certain that the natives would rise in revolt against France.

"Not a single Frenchman," wrote, in peace times, the correspondent of the Cologne Gazette, "should escape alive." The German Government was convinced of the fact that the revolt of the inhabitants and the massacre of the French would be followed by an appeal of all the Moroccans for the intervention of the Kaiser. But nothing of the sort took place. In Algiers the most perfect calm continued to reign; in Tunis there was a little trouble that was soon suppressed; in Morocco there was a man, diplomat and soldier at the same time, who was able to keep peace and hold the country firm to France. He was General Lyautey.

During the early days of August, 1914, the question was raised whether or not it would be necessary to abandon the outposts in the interior of Morocco and withdraw toward the coast cities. General Lyautey declared that he would abandon nothing and advised the French Government to that effect. He sent troops, the famous Moroccan regiments, the best fighting units there were in 1914, to the battle fields of Flanders, receiving in exchange territorial divisions recruited for the most part from the Midi. However, with these territorial divisions General Lyautey assured the safety of all that portion of the empire that was in his care; he finished the operations he had commenced; he maintained French prestige and, some months later on, he found means to open at Casablanca a Moroccan exposition which showed the marvelous work that had been accomplished in that country-French for a few years only.

The French colonies not only remained incomparably calm and peaceful but they also made a marvelous effort in coming to the aid of the mother country both with men and with their commerce.

M. Ernest Roume, Governor General of the Colonies, in charge at the war's beginning of the government of Indo-China, sent to France more than sixty thousand native soldiers and military workers in eighteen months. They were recruited from the Asiatic possessions of France. In Senegal, in Soudan and in Morocco men volunteered by hundreds of thousands. Moroccans, Kabyles and blacks came to fight by the side of the French troops on the Champagne and Lorraine fronts.

Besides, North Africa largely took care of the feeding of France.

In 1914 the cereal crop had been notably deficient in Algiers and especially in Tunis. However, Algeria did not hesitate to give the mother land all the grain she asked for; 50,000 quintals of wheat and 500,000 quintals of barley and oats were thus hastened to continental France, and in addition, 40,000 quintals of wheat went to Corsica and 130,000 to Paris. In 1915 the colonies made an even better showing: Algeria furnished France with 1,625,000 quintals of wheat, 918,000 quintals of barley, and 77,000 quintals of oats. In 1916 this figure was passed and the total exports amounted to four million quintals of grains. As for Morocco, it exported in 1914, 90,000 quintals of wheat and 130,000 quintals of barley; in 1915 it exported 200,000 quintals of wheat and a million quintals of barley; in 1916 it exported more than two million quintals of grains. Add to that the 900,000 sheep Algeria furnished for the French commissariat and more than 40,000 sheep furnished to the English commissariat to feed the Hindoo troops stationed at Marseilles. Then add in the cattle exported from Algeria and Morocco by the thousands, add for Algeria the wines and the vegetables, and for Tunis the olive oil. In 1916 the confederation of Algerian winegrowers gave the French poilus fifty thousand hectoliters of wine.

Everywhere in the colonies buildings have been built, agriculture has continued, public works have been constructed. In the midst of war Algeria has opened up railroads; Tunis has opened the line from Sfax to Gabès; Morocco the lines from Casablanca to Fez and from the Algerian frontier to Taza.

General Lyautey said, "A workshop is worth a battalion in Morocco."

Workshops have been opened everywhere. There was never so much work done. The colonial empire was never more prosperous, more active and more glorious.

* * *

A nation that is worn out and bled white has passed the stage where it can come to the aid of others. In her death agony, she has no more than her own strength to last her during the last hours. France has been able to come to the aid of the other Allies. She has lent them a strong helping hand, she has been able to save them from total extinction. French troops have fought and are still fighting on all the battle fronts; in Italy, the Balkans, Palestine and Central Africa. It is almost to France alone and to France especially that the salvage of the remnant of the Serbian Army has been due.

We remember what happened in September, 1915. At the time when the dual offensive was attempted in Artois and in Champagne, the German Armies invaded Poland, Volhynia, Lithuania and Courland, delivered Austrian Galicia and commenced to submerge Serbia beneath their innumerable legions. Invaded by three armies, the German, Austrian and Bulgarian, all of them amply supplied with heavy artillery and asphixiating gas, poor little Serbia was doomed beforehand. But, tenacious to the end, her heroic defenders preferred to leave their country rather than submit to a hated yoke. Step by step the Serbians, always facing the enemy, retreated to the sea. It was a terrible tragedy. Their retreat will remain a matter of legend, like that of the Ten Thousand under Xenophon. As they retreated, the Serbians called, in their despair, for help.

Who went to Serbia's aid? It was not Russia, whose armies were quite worn out. It was not England, who feared an attack on Egypt and who was still fighting at the Dardanelles. It was not Italy, whose special efforts were directed towards preventing the junction of Austria with Greece, and who was satisfied with establishing herself at Valona and thus driving a wedge between her two rivals on the Adriatic coast.

But France, France who is represented as worn out and bled white, heard Serbia's call for help and decided to respond to it.

Supplies were first landed at San Giovanni di Medua and Antivari in the smaller French boats. But it was soon evident that these supplies would be insufficient and that the Serbs could not maintain their positions in the Adriatic ports even with French help from the sea. The complete evacuation of an entire army, piece by piece, had to be undertaken. The transporting of entire Serbia beyond the seas, to another country, had to be considered. Where were they to go? Where were the thousands of worn out soldiers, of sick and wounded men, to be transported?

Once again France answered. France held Tunis, France held Bizerta. Tunis and Bizerta would shield temporarily the remains of Serbia. From the end of November, 1915, the smaller French ships, torpedo boats, trawlers and transports made the trip from Durazzo to San Giovanni di Medua to embark the Serbian Army. Great steamers, such as the Natal, Sinai, and Arménie, and a flotilla of armored cruisers followed them. Thirteen thousand men were transported in this fashion.

But the situation grew worse. The Serbs along the seacoasts were pressed harder and harder by the Austrians and by Albanian bands. Besides, the transporting to Tunis was too slow when the progress of the enemy was considered. Finally the appearance of typhus and cholera rendered more dangerous the removal of the unfortunate troops to a great distance. A new plan was arranged. The remaining Serbs were to be transported not into Tunis, which was so far away, but to a land as near as possible to the scene of disaster. Corfu was there; Corfu, only sixty miles away from the farthest point of debarkation; Corfu, whose climate was marvelously suited to the recovery of sick men; Corfu which offered a very safe harbor. It was decided to occupy Corfu, prepare the island, transport the entire Serbian Army thither and assure that this army would be built up there. And France was charged with carrying out this operation.

On the seventh of January, 1916, the first French organization of ten trawlers set out from Malta to make a preliminary reconnoissance around Corfu, to drag for mines and to clear out the submarines. A second flotilla followed it forty-eight hours later. On the eighth of January the armored cruisers Edgar Quinet, Waldeck-Rousseau, Ernest Renan, Jules Ferry and five torpedo boats, which were located at Bizerta, received orders to embark a battalion of Alpine chasseurs with their arms, baggage and mules and to take up their positions to be ready at the first signal.

On the night of the tenth, the French consul at Corfu woke up the Greek prefect in order to announce to him the imminent arrival of our squadron and what it was going to do. After he had received the formal protest of this functionary, he went down to the port, where there was no longer any doubt in anyone's mind of what was going to happen. With him went guides and automobiles to finish everything quickly before the Germans could offer any opposition. Some minutes later, on time at the rendezvous agreed upon, the French cruisers came into the harbor and immediately disembarked their contingent of Alpine Chasseurs. Before daybreak the principal vantage points as well as the most important positions on the island were occupied. Suspected persons were seized in their beds, a doubtful post of T. S. F. was seized also. Corfu, which went to sleep half German, woke up entirely French to the tune of the martial music that was to inform the inhabitants of the little change that had taken place over night.

The question remained of Achilleion, the property of William of Germany, which was about nine miles from the city. If Achilleion had been a French property and German soldiers had paid a visit, what pillage, what defilement, what orgies there would have been!

But Achilleion was a German property, and the French have a method of procedure that is peculiarly their own. This is what happened, according to the narrative of a young naval officer who was on the spot:

At four o'clock in the morning an automobile set out from the dock, carrying a squad of twelve marine fusilliers under the command of one of the ship's lieutenants. A half hour later he presented himself at the gate of the palace and demanded that he be admitted. There was no response. He was insistent. Finally a door opened and an angry voice cried out in the darkness: "This isn't the time for visitors." For the owner, who found that there are no such things as small profits, permitted a visit for the sum of two francs per person. Surprised, the occupant of the palace submitted, and our detachment entered Achilleion, whose occupants it assembled-the watchman and two red-haired chambermaids-en déshabillé, also a mechanic and an entomologist who wore spectacles. Pale with fear, the latter threw himself on his knees before the officer. "If I must die, I ask that it may be here," said he. He was left in peace. A company of the Chasseurs arrived and the marines, with their lanterns in their hands, went back to the ships. The Tricolor floated over the Kaiser's villa, which was to become a hospital for the Serbs.

* * *

At eleven o'clock in the morning it was all over, and the French cruisers put out to sea on the return trip to Bizerta.

But the easiest thing had been done. The most difficult was about to begin. It was not only a question of occupying Corfu; it was also a matter of arranging to receive a worn-out and decimated army. It was a difficult task that many would have judged out of the question. Everything was lacking; there was nothing on hand.

A writer on naval matters, who has been the historian of the French Navy in this war, M. Emile Vedel, has painted in the pages of Illustration an unheard-of and unique picture of what this preparation of Corfu consisted:

It was nothing less than a question of improvising all means that were necessary for disembarking; gangways, landing stairs, roads to and from various points on the island where the expected troops were to be concentrated; of uniting and collecting together the numerous boats-large and small-eighteen tugs (among them the Marsouin, Rove, Iskeul, Marseillais 14, Audacieux, Requin), twenty-seven smaller boats, nine barges, and a dozen mahonnes and small craft of all sizes, without counting the supply ships, floating tanks, unloading cranes and so forth-which the rapid unloading and revictualing of the new arrivals demanded; of isolating the sick who were infected with typhus and cholera; in a word, of putting on their feet the diverse offices that come under the heading of direction of the port, all the machinery of which was yet to be created. At the same time it was necessary to maintain and repair the booms of the harbor, to test the channels, make arrangements concerning piloting, anchorage, and new supplies of water, provisions and coal for the always hurried transports which arrived, unloaded and sailed away at all hours of the day and night; constantly to clear out and drag the waters near the island; establish observation posts around it, station batteries in suitable positions, and finally to protect the channels around Corfu and the Albanian coast, in which the English aided us effectively by sending a hundred drifters (a sort of little fishing boat which we call "cordiers" at Boulogne), which, beating against the wind under full sail, dragged a cable a thousand meters long to snare submarines. Thanks to a pair of floating docks, which were placed between the extreme end of Corfu and the neighboring coast, a distance of but two or three kilometers, our vessels were soon in position, in a line thirty miles in length so that they could execute all the movements necessary for the landing of the Serbs and also have gun drill, launch torpedoes and sea planes, and perform the rest of the maneuvers that are indispensable.

Furthermore, fresh water in sufficient quantities had to be procured. For if the springs on the island could supply eighty thousand inhabitants, they now had to triple their output and give out a far greater supply to meet the demand of one hundred and fifty thousand more mouths. Every bit of flour had to come from outside, from Italy, France or England since Corfu has very few resources and we did not wish to encounter the hostility of a population to which it was necessary for us to show firmness more than once. The most recalcitrant were forced to give in, not without ceasing to rob us very much in the dealings they had with us. Oranges went up to ten francs a dozen, and small shopkeepers realized fortunes by doing money changing at fantastic rates.

And all that will furnish only a very incomplete idea of the innumerable obligations the aquatic anthill, from an industrial and military standpoint, which is called a naval base, has to meet.

On the ninth of January, 1916, the situation of the Serbian Army was precisely as follows: In the neighborhood of San Giovanni di Medua there were twelve hundred officers, twenty-six thousand foot soldiers, seven thousand horses and two thousand cattle; at Durazzo there were thirty-six hundred officers, sixty-nine thousand soldiers, twenty thousand horses and four thousand cattle; on the roads that led to Valona some fifty thousand men including officers, two thousand horses and three hundred cattle.

In these three principal groups were forty-one field pieces, the glorious remainder of the Serbian artillery.

Add to that twenty-two thousand Austrian prisoners whom the Serbs carried along with them in their exodus towards the coast and also the pitiable troop of refugees, sick men, old men, women, children who, desiring at any cost to escape slavery and servitude, followed the retreating army.

The evacuation of this indomitable people was made at San Giovanni di Medua. The soldiers were sent to Corfu. The civilians were sent to Algiers and Tunis, the Austrian prisoners to Sardinia. But where were the typhoid and the cholera patients to be transported? No one wanted them; and in this stampede of a people, cholera and typhus had made their appearance and spread with alarming rapidity. A certain number of cholera patients had been taken to Brindisi; and everyone, naturally, refused to take them in.

Since this was the case, a French trawler, the Verdun, commanded by Lieutenant d'Aubarède, brought the sick to Corfu. And, as M. Emile Vedel tells it, this was perhaps one of the most beautiful episodes of our navy's activity, for there are few deaths as hideous as that to which they exposed themselves in taking in their arms poor beings touched with a malady essentially so contagious, and so dirty and covered with vermin that they made everyone shudder. With precaution and care that brothers do not always have for their own brothers, these near-corpses were taken to Corfu, where doctors and nurses from the French Navy saved some of them and made the end more easy for the rest.

In twenty-two days everything was almost over. The troops at San Giovanni and Valona and Durazzo had been evacuated, as had the Austrian prisoners. All the money of the Serbian treasury had been transported to Marseilles in the cruiser Ernest Renan. It amounted to about eight hundred million francs.

However, on the twentieth of January, about two thousand men still remained at San Giovanni di Medua. There were also a certain number of field pieces. After so many men and guns had been saved, were these to be abandoned? No. Everything must be saved. The last man must be saved and the last gun must be saved, whatever may be the risk, the fatigue and the hard work.

On the morning of the twentieth of January, Captain Cacqueray, commanding the French naval forces, had two young naval officers of the French fleet come aboard his ship, the Marceau, Ensigns Couillaud and Augé, who commanded the little trawlers Petrel and Marie-Rose. He ordered them to return once more to San Giovanni and bring back with them all they could.

"You must succeed and you will succeed," Captain Cacqueray said simply.

Some few minutes later the two trawlers were out in the Adriatic, headed for San Giovanni. Here we must quote Ensign Augé's words. He commanded the Marie-Rose, and we must be satisfied with citing from the eloquent brevity of the ship's log:

From the peaceful docks of Brindisi, we passed through the winding channel of the outer port and then out of the harbor, gliding between the buoys. Then the mine fields were to be traversed, although the night was black and foggy. As we approached the Albanian coast the wind freshened, and in a veritable tempest, with hail and icy rain we entered the Gulf of Drin, whose water is very turbid. More watchful than ever, since submarines had been sighted in the neighborhood, we finally arrived at Medua. Almost blocked off by the sand bars, the little harbor was further encumbered by a dozen wrecks, boats which the Austrians had sunk. The question was where to pass through this mess, on the top of the water, with masts and spars pointing every way. After having rounded the line of mines and the Brindisi, an Italian vessel that had struck a mine some days before, we made the port. Ten houses and a wretched wharf on worm-eaten piling at the end of a funnel of mountains with terrible rocks is all there is of Medua.

An empty sailboat was moored to the end of the wharf, which facilitated our operations. The Petrel, which was of lighter draft than my boat, managed to get alongside and, by vigorous efforts, we were able to join her. Ashore there were soldiers in muddy clothes and worn-out shoes. The gangway and the sailboat were soon filled by a chilly cold wind, which tried to blow it offshore and which nothing could restrain. It was impossible to locate any responsible person and out of the question to make one's self understood. Everyone thought only of escaping from that Hell. Finally some Serbian officers came up who succeeded somewhat in controlling their impatient troops. They made us bring up the first cannon, which was pushed over the shaking planks of the wharf. With great effort and by the use of triple tackles the gun was got aboard the Petrel, and the carriage and wheels on the Marie-Rose, whose hatch was wider. The beginning was slow, but, after the second cannon, the embarking went along smoothly.

There was not enough time. Everyone stamped in the mud. With the completely washed out Serbian uniforms mixed the brilliant colors of those of the Montenegrin guard. Seated on a stone, King Nicholas sat stoically in the falling rain, awaiting the arrival of the Italian torpedo boat that was to place itself under his orders. Soldiers from the French mission arrived and did police duty. The radio-operators from the Italian post arrived and put their baggage on board. An officer of the Serbian Army was there with all the state archives. A crowd of people instinctively pressed towards us and got mixed up with the soldiers who were supposed to keep order. In spite of the tempest which thwarted everything, we managed to embark eighteen .75 guns and three 100 howitzers, as well as a hundred cases of projectiles. The weather grew more dreadful, with hail stones in the icy rain. Blows were necessary to prevent the crowding aboard of that mob of people whom neither shouts nor threats could stop. We allowed as many as possible to embark-about a hundred on the Petrel and twice as many with us-Serbs, Montenegrins and Allies, of all classes and conditions, and, despairingly we shoved off to stop the crowd that remained. We were the last hope of these poor people-there were about fifteen hundred of them, whose only hope now was to face the frightful paths, marshes and swollen rivers that separated them from Durazzo.

Night was falling; there remained only time to get away. Cases of preserves were quickly opened. All our bread and biscuits were used, and some bowls of boiling tea comforted our guests. But leaving the harbor, the sea grew heavier and torrents of spray put the finishing touch to the inextricable disorder that prevailed aboard ship. The storm stayed with us until we made Brindisi, where we arrived at seven o'clock on the morning of the twenty-second. When Italy was sighted, the tiredness and discouragement disappeared as if by magic. Hand clappings, praise of France, promises of victory and of revenge, and absurd efforts to disembark everything at once-passengers and material. (Journal of Ensign Augé, Commander of the Marie-Rose.)

Is that all? No; it is not. For if French effort is limitless, the tonnage of the trawlers is not. And, in spite of every effort, they were unable to get everyone aboard. Down there in the mud at Medua some Serbs still waited, turning anxious eyes towards the high seas to see whether or not the tricolor would appear on the horizon.... Well, it did reappear, for France never gives up the fight. The French motto here, as everywhere else, was "to the bitter end." On the twenty-fourth of January the Petrel and the Marie-Rose started on the final trip. Will they arrive in time? Probably not. In the mountains that surround San Giovanni rifle shots and the rattle of mitrailleuses were heard; the road to Alessio was deserted, the beach seemed deserted, Medua harbor was covered with wreckage of all sorts, rendering navigation impossible. However, the tiny craft entered the harbor and approached the shore. Finally they saw some Serbs there. The news was as disturbing as possible. The Austrians were only a few kilometers off. There was fighting on the outskirts of the town. The last able-bodied Serbs struggled manfully to hold off the Austrian advance guard, which pressed them hard. Not a minute was to be lost if a last salvage was to be made.

After a brief consultation, the two young commanders decided to take off everyone in their old boats, aided by a huge lighter which they took in tow. A grave responsibility if the weather did not hold; but the man who risks nothing will gain nothing.

They worked with feverish haste. The hope of not being abandoned gave wings to the weak. By four o'clock in the afternoon everything was practically ready ... four "seventy-fives," ten artillery caissons, two radio outfits, a thousand new rifles, hundreds of cases of shells, cartridges and grenades and likewise large quantities of harness were loaded on the trawlers. All the men who were in the town, its outskirts or on the beach were assembled and embarked on the boats. Not one was left behind. This time, safe from the rifles in the distant mountains, everyone was saved.

At four-fifty in the afternoon [writes Ensign Augé] our little boats cleared the harbor for the last time and made the open sea. Suddenly we see a trail of foam hastening on us with a mad rush. It started three or four hundred meters off on our right. There is a lightning flash and we see the torpedo cross our bows, too low, fortunately. A submarine has tried to attack us but has missed. We describe a great circle in order to avoid a second attack. Fortunately night falls to end the chase, and we make for the Italian coast. Although the sea is smooth, the third boat is lurching terribly. About midnight I hear terrible cries from this boat. It is dark as pitch and impossible to make out anything in the darkness. The cries continue: sparks burst forth. Something is thrown into the sea. It is impossible to know what is happening. So much the worse. The most dangerous thing would be to stop. Let us go on.

They went on and finally arrived in sight of Italy the next morning. The incident of the night before had been a little thing which had started a panic on board the boat. Little by little the roofs and towers of Brindisi appeared in the distance. The entire squadron of Allied ships was there, ranged in battle formation. When they saw the two little boats which were bringing in the last Serbs with their last guns, they rendered military honors to the heroic saviors, the crews cheering and the colors saluting. Supreme and unprecedented homage was rendered two nations: France and Serbia.

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In January, 1918, M. Vesnitch, Serbian Minister to France, on a mission to the United States, during an after-dinner speech, in a voice that did not conceal his emotion and with a different manner from his usual downcast one, told some of the details of this Passion. And he added:

"We are grateful to everyone, but Serbia's heart will remain attached through all centuries to come to France."

I repeat these words, which are France's sweetest reward, because they attest in history what France, the nation "worn out and bled white" has done to save and succor her little ally.

Finally let me say that the men are wrong who believe France is without strength and resources. Beneath her torn garments, in rags, under flesh that is cruelly bruised, there beats a virile heart which fights on and on. And there is young, red blood which still flows and is always ready to flow for the immortal principles of Liberty, Justice and Humanity.

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