Maurice Genevoix

Standing behind his lectern, Maurice Genevoix began his speech. Genevoix was a member of the Académie Française, Chairman of the Comité National du Souvenir de Verdun (CNSV - national committee for the memory of Verdun) and spokesman of the 14-18 war veterans. He started to talk, his voice hoarse. But as the words of his speech flashed before his eyes, the elderly man was no longer quite behind the lectern. He was back with “them”. “They” were his comrades, "Those of 14”, and he could see them again. From the man he hardly knew, struck down by a bullet during the Battle of the Marne, to Robert Porchon, his brother in arms, his friend. They were all there. And he was beset by painful memories, like that of the terrible night of 20 to 21 February 1915, on the Éparges Ridge. In the cold, the rain beating down, the wounded called out to him, asking him to end their suffering. The men who, just a few hours earlier, had been full of life, until they were terribly mutilated by a shell. And he, miraculously, was the only one unharmed. Until he was seriously wounded on 25 April 1915, not far from the village of Saint-Rémy-la-Calonne. He recalled with gratitude and emotion the care with which the stretcher-bearers had carried him back behind the line of fire, despite the shells that fell all around them, splintering the beech trees of the Hauts de Meuse. And today, flicking between the ghosts of his comrades and the crowd of people of all generations, Maurice Genevoix the survivor ended his speech with a message of humanity: “May young and old, friends, reconciled enemies, take away from this place, at the bottom of their hearts, a notion of man that will support and assist them! May the light that will shine here guide them, at last, towards peace!” Verdun Memorial was officially open.Thirteen years later, Maurice Genevoix wrote his last book, “Trente Mille Jours” (Thirty Thousand Days), in which he looked back over his life. In total, he wrote around sixty works, from “Sous Verdun” (Under Verdun) the first volume of “Ceux de 14” (Those of 14) and Raboliot, which won him the Goncourt Prize in 1925, through to this final book. In his work, he glorified life and nature, but reading between the lines, the trauma of the war was always there. The young second lieutenant of the 106th Infantry Regiment who lived to become the chronicler of his century passed away on 8 September 1980, a few weeks before his 90th birthday.