Chapter 7

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.

* * * * *

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.

IV

THE WAR AIMS OF FRANCE

A French statesman, Mr. Louis Barthou, has summed up the War aims of France in the three words: "Restitution, Reparation, Guarantees."

Restitution means the surrender of all occupied territories, of the territories occupied by force during forty-seven months, as well as the territories occupied by force during forty-seven years. Between the five departments forming Flanders-Argonne and the five departments forming Alsace-Lorraine, France is unable to make any distinction. France wants Metz back on the same ground upon which she wants Lille back. If Germany is to keep Metz she might as well keep Lille. Her claim to Strasbourg is not better than her claim to Cambrai.

And this is a thing which "the man in the street" fails sometimes to understand. He says: "Yes, we know, Alsace-Lorraine was taken from France forty-seven years ago by violence, without the people of the occupied territories being consulted. But how did France acquire Alsace-Lorraine in previous times? Was it not also by force after successful wars? Is it not a fact that Alsace-Lorraine, in days of yore, belonged to Germany, and that, historically, Alsace is a German land?"

No, it is precisely not a fact. It is the contrary of a fact and of truth. And this must be made clear, once for all.

When France demands Alsace-Lorraine, she does not do so because she will have some more departments in her geographical configuration, but because these territories belonged to France during centuries and centuries, because they were taken from France by force forty-seven years ago, because the people of these territories not only were never consulted, but also protested against Prussian domination--because, in a word, it is a question of right.

In a speech, which he delivered on the 24th of January, 1918, before the Reichstag, Count von Hertling, the Imperial German Chancellor, expressed himself as follows:

Alsace-Lorraine comprises, as is known, for the most part purely German regions which by a century long of violence and illegality were severed from the German Empire, until finally in 1779 the French Revolution swallowed up the last remnant. Alsace and Lorraine then became French provinces. When in the war of 1870, we demanded back the district which had been criminally wrested from us, that was not a conquest of foreign territory but, rightly and properly speaking, what today is called disannexation.

It is doubtful that Count von Hertling will ever leave in history the memory of a great Chancellor; but, if he does, it will be no doubt in the History of Ignorance and Falsehood. Never has a statesman in so few words uttered with such impudence so many untruths!

Historically speaking, there are in Alsace-Lorraine three parts: there is Lorraine, there is Alsace, and there is the southern part of Alsace including the town of Mulhouse.

As regards the town of Mulhouse, the question is most simple and clear. The town never, at any time, belonged to Germany or to the Germans. It belonged to Switzerland and, at the end of the 18th century, during the French revolution, the town, after a referendum, decided to become French. A delegation was sent to Paris, to the French Parliament, then called the _Conseil des Cinq-Cents_, and the delegation expressed publicly, officially, the desire of Mulhouse to be part of the French territory. There was a deliberation, and unanimously the _Conseil des Cinq-Cents_ voted a motion couched in the following terms: "_The French Republic accepts the vow of the citizens of Mulhouse._"

A few weeks later the French authorities, among scenes of unparalleled enthusiasm, made their entry into the town, and the flag of Mulhouse was wrapped up in a tricolor box bearing the inscription: "The Republic of Mulhouse rests in the bosom of the French Republic."

Alsace--the rest of Alsace--became French in 1648, more than two centuries before the war of 1870. It became French according to a treaty. The treaty was signed by the Austrian Emperor, because Alsace belonged to the Austrian Imperial Family. And it is not without interest to quote an article (article 75) of the treaty:

The Emperor cedes to the King of France forever, _in perpetuum_, without any reserve, with full jurisdiction and sovereignty, all the Alsatian territory. The Austrian Emperor gives it to the King of France in such a way that no other Emperor, in the future, will ever have any power in any time to affirm any right on these territories.

When today one reads that treaty, one has the impression that more than two centuries ago the Austrian Emperor had already a sort of apprehension that later on another Emperor would interfere in the matter and create mischief!

Fifty-three years after that treaty, the Prussians, who dislike seeing anything in some one's else possession, tried to recover Alsace. Their own ambassador tried to dissuade them, and in 1701 Count Schmettau, ambassador of Prussia in Paris, wrote to his king:

"_We cannot take Alsace, because it is well known that her inhabitants are more French than the Parisians_...."

Could anything answer better the affirmation that "Alsatians are of German tendency?"

Lorraine became French in 1552, more than three centuries before the war of 1870. Lorraine became French not after a war and as the result of a conquest, but according to a treaty signed by all the Protestant Princes of Germany, in which we find the following sentence, which is really worthy of meditation: "_We find just that the King of France, as promptly as possible, takes possession of the towns of Toul, Metz, and Verdun, where the German language has never been used._" So that the Germans themselves put on the same line the towns of Metz, Toul, and Verdun, and recognized that the town of Metz was not German.

All this is extremely simple and clear. What happened several centuries later is equally clear.

When, in 1871, on February 16th, the deputies of Alsace-Lorraine learned that their provinces would be given up to Germany, they assembled, and in an historical document which was signed by all of them--there were thirty-six--they protested in the following terms:

Alsace and Lorraine cannot be alienated. Today, before the whole world, they proclaim that they want to remain French. Europe cannot allow or ratify the annexation of Alsace and Lorraine. Europe cannot allow a people to be seized like a flock of sheep. Europe cannot remain deaf to the protest of a whole population. Therefore, we declare in the name of our population, in the name of our children and of our descendants, that we are considering any treaty which gives us up to a foreign power as a treaty null and void, and we will eternally revindicate the right of disposing of ourselves and of remaining French.

And, three years later, in January, 1874, when for the first time Alsace and Lorraine had to elect deputies, they reiterated the same protest. They elected fifteen new deputies; some were Protestants, some were Catholics, one of them was the Bishop of Strasbourg, but they unanimously signed a declaration which was read at the Tribune of the German Reichstag. The declaration was the following:

In the name of all the people of Alsace-Lorraine, we protest against the abuse of force of which our country is a victim.... Citizens having a soul and an intelligence are not mere goods that may be sold, or with which you may trade.

The contract which annexed us to Germany is null and void. A contract is only valid when the two contractants had an entire freedom to sign it. France was not free when she signed such a contract. Therefore our electors want us to say that we consider ourselves as not bound by such a treaty, and they want us to affirm once more our right of disposing of ourselves.

I beg to call the attention of the reader to two sentences of this protestation:

"Europe cannot allow a people to be seized like a flock of sheep," wrote the deputies of 1871. "People are not mere goods which may be sold or with which you may trade," proclaimed the deputies of 1874. Now you will find, nearly word for word, the same thought expressed in the message of President Wilson to Congress, when he wrote: "No right exists anywhere to hand peoples about from sovereignty to sovereignty as if they were property."

That right does not exist, and it is because that right was outrageously violated in 1871 that France wants Alsace-Lorraine to come back to her. It is because, in 1871, Right has been wronged that today Right must be reinstated.

Some people have spoken of a referendum. Why a referendum? Was there any referendum in 1871? And how could there be a referendum? How could you include in this referendum the hundreds of thousands of Alsatians who have fled from German domination? How could you exclude from this referendum the hundreds of thousands of Germans who have come to Alsace?

The referendum was rendered by Mulhouse in 1798. Will that town be obliged to vote again? And how many times will it be obliged to vote for France? The referendum was rendered by the whole of Alsace and Lorraine in 1871 and 1874, by their elected deputies, when they unanimously protested against the German annexation.

It was rendered twenty years ago by the census which was taken by the Germans themselves in Alsace. According to that census, in 1895, notwithstanding the fact that the teaching of French was prohibited in the public schools, there were 160,000 people in Alsace speaking French. And five years later, in 1900, according to another census there were 200,000 people in Alsace speaking French. And of these 200,000 people, there were more than 52,000 children.

The referendum was also rendered by Alsatians who, before this war, engaged themselves in the French Army, and became officers. According to the official statistics of the French War Department, there were in 1914 in the French Army 20 generals, 145 superior officers, and 400 ordinary officers of Alsatian origin. On the other side, in the German Army in 1914, there were four officers of Alsatian origin.

And finally the referendum was rendered only one year before the present war, in 1913, when Herr von Jagow, then Prefect of Police in Berlin, made the following extraordinary declaration: "We Germans are obliged in Alsace to behave ourselves as if we were in an enemy's country...." What better referendum could you wish than such an admission by a German statesman?

Moreover, the question of Alsace-Lorraine is not only a French question, but also an international question. It is not only France who has sworn to herself to recover Alsace-Lorraine--it is all the Allies who have sworn to France that she should recover it.