MY ·75
REMINISCENCES OF A GUNNER
OF A ·75m/m BATTERY IN 1914
FROM THE FRENCH OF
PAUL LINTIER
WITH A PREFACE BY
FRANCES WILSON HUARD
NEW YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
PREFACE
BY FRANCES WILSON HUARD
Author of "My Home in the Field of Honour"
All during the three weary years of this great war real pleasureshave been few for those of us whom Fate has destined to be more or lessclosely associated with the daily tide of events.
As I look back at present I feel that one of my first treats was whenI came upon Paul Lintier's newly published volume called "Ma Piece." Iread it, reread it and recommended it to those of my American friendswho, able to read French, clamoured for some real human document; thewar as seen by an actual participant.
Aside from the clear, concise style, devoid of any pretentious literaryflourishes, the incidents were what gripped me. They were the directanswer to those thousand and one questions that we, the civilians shutup in the army zone, tortured by fear and anguish, asked ourselves andasked each other a hundred times a day.
Soldiers and diplomats, critics and littérateurs, wives and sweetheartsall over the fair land of France devoured and discussed the book. Andlittle did I dream that it would one day be my privilege to write apreface introducing to my compatriots this chef d'oeuvre alreadyrecognised by the French Academy, the winner of the Prix Montyon.This I may truly say is the greatest pleasure yet fallen to my lot.Pleasure, alas! not unmixed with pain, for were it not a nobler taskto extol the virtues of the living than sing the praises of those gonebefore?
It was not my fortune to have known Paul Lintier. He fell in the veryflower of his manhood, unmindful of the sacrifice for country, ignoringhis glorious contribution for the safety of future generations. Butwith his passing on the Field of Honour, something besides a son, asoldier, and a poet was lost to France—lost to us all. It is suchspirits as his that make a country great, make the world worth while.It is for such reasons that we should treasure all the more carefullyhis only contributions to posterity.
His name, yesterday unknown, now justly stands graven on the recordsof all time. This humble artilleryman lost in the masses of thecombatants, jotted down on his knees a work[Pg vii] that shall stand as one ofthe most immutable witnesses of the conflict; a book that long afterwe have gone will remain; an incomparable document, a magnificentoffering to those who later on shall study the souls and gestures of ageneration of heroes by whom France was saved.
Some one has said, and wisely, that what most pleases us when perusinga book is to find the author corroborating our own thoughts,—givingvoice to our unborn sentiments—providing us with material forcomparison. If this be true, then there is no reason why "My ·75"should not live on forever.
Further than a really great literary talent, this book reveals theprofound and generous soul of the entire "Jeunesse Française" readyto sacrifice itself without counting, for the highest ideal that everinflamed a people.
The admirable patience, the great good humour, the intelligentcleverness a