2023-04-30

gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Default)
2023-04-30 10:48 pm

We Have Munitions. We Will Not Surrender

Today is Camerone Day.

The French Army was besieging Puebla.

The mission of the Legion was to ensure the movement and safety of the convoys, over an 80 mile distance. On the 29th of April 1863, Colonel Jeanningros was informed that an important convoy was on its way to Puebla, with a load of 3 million francs, and material and munitions for the siege. Captain Danjou, his quartermaster, decided to send a company to escort the convoy. The 3rd company of the Foreign Regiment was assigned to this mission, but had no officers available. So Captain Danjou, himself, took the command and 2nd lieutenants Maudet, company guide, and Vilain, the paymaster, joined him voluntarily.

On the 30th of April, at 1 a.m., the 3rd company was on its way, with its 3 officers and 62 men. At 7 a.m., after a 15-mile march, it stopped at Palo Verde in order to get some rest. At this very moment, the enemy showed up and the battle began. Captain Danjou made the company take up a square formation and, even though retreating, he victoriously drove back several cavalry charges, inflicting the first heavy losses on the enemy.

By the inn of Camerone, a large building with a courtyard protected by a wall 3 meters high, Danjou decided to stay, in order to keep the enemy and so delay for as long as possible, any attacks on the convoy.

While the legionnaires were rapidly setting up the defense of the inn, a Mexican officer demanded that Captain Danjou surrender, pointing out the fact that the Mexican Army was greatly superior in number.

Danjou's answer was: "We have munitions. We will not surrender." Then, he swore to fight to the death and made his men swear the same. It was 10 a.m. Until 6 p.m., these 60 men who had had nothing to eat or drink since the day before, in spite of the extreme heat, of the thirst and hunger, resisted against 2,000 Mexicans: 800 cavalry and 1,200 infantry.

At noon, Captain Danjou was shot in the chest and died. At 2 p.m., 2nd lieutenant Vilain was shot in the head. About this time, the Mexican colonel succeeded in setting the inn on fire.

In spite of the heat and the smoke, the legionnaires resisted, but many of them were killed or injured. By 5 p.m., only 12 men could still fight with 2nd lieutenant Maudet. At this time, the Mexican colonel gathered his soldiers and told them what disgrace it would be if they were unable to defeat such a small number of men. The Mexicans were about to give the general assault through holes opened in the walls of the courtyard, but Colonel Milan, who had previously asked 2nd lieutenant Maudet to surrender, once again gave him the opportunity to. Maudet scornfully refused.

The final charge was given. Soon, only 5 men were left around Maudet; Corporal Maine, legionnaires Catteau, Wensel, Constantin and Leonard. Each had only one bullet left. In a corner of the courtyard, their back against the wall, still facing the enemy, they fixed bayonets. When the signal was given, they opened fire and fought with their bayonets. 2nd lieutenant Maudet and 2 legionnaires fell, mortally wounded. Maine and his 2 remaining companions were about to be slaughtered when a Mexican officer saved them. He shouted: "Surrender!"

"We will only if you promise to allow us to carry and care for our injured men and if you leave us our guns".

"Nothing can be refused to men like you!", answered the officer.

Captain Danjou's men had kept their promise; for 11 hours, they had resisted 2,000 enemy troops. They had killed 300 of them and had injured as many. Their sacrifice had saved the convoy and they had fulfilled their mission.

Emperor Napoleon III decided that the name of Camerone would be written on the flag of the Foreign Regiment and the names of Danjou, Vilain and Maudet would be engraved in golden letters on the walls of the Invalides, in Paris.

Moreover, a monument was built in 1892, at the very place of the fight. The following inscription can be read there:

Ils furent ici moins de soixante
Opposés à toute un armée,
Sa masse les écrasa.
La vie plutôt que le courage
Abandonna ces soldats Français
Le 30 avril 1863.


"Here there were less than sixty opposed to a whole army. Its mass crushed them. Life abandoned these French soldiers before courage. The 30th of April 1863."
gridlore: Doug looking off camera with a grin (Default)
2023-04-30 10:50 pm
Entry tags:

Why Camerone Day matters to me.

Every April 30th, I post the Recitation of Camerone. The day 65 men of the Légion étrangère held off nearly 2,000 Mexican troops in a meaningless battle that accomplished the Legion's mission, ensuring a vital supply convoy made it to the French Army.

I first learned about this event when I was in the 3rd Ranger Battalion. We had a full battalion PT session, and the Command Sergeant Major read us the Recitation, explained what happened, and made the point that this is what Infantry do. We fight. Against the worst odds, we fight when we've been denied food or water for a day; when every bone aches and every friend by our side is dead or dying, we fight.

My decision to go Infantry was based on a 17-year-old's thirst for adventure. I wanted to run around with a machine gun and eat snakes. Infantry OSUT (One Station Unit Training) in Alpha Company, 7th Battalion, 1st Infantry Training Brigade at Fort Benning reshaped my body, and it also reshaped my mind.

I learned confidence and determination. I found that what I thought were my limits were just the beginning of my possibilities. In those thirteen weeks, I mastered the basic skills of an 11-Bravo Light Weapons Infantryman and gained control of myself in a way I never had as a rootless teenager. I was a soldier. I had a mission. Follow Me.

Being in the United States Army in the mid-80s meant that we still expected to eventually fight the Soviet Union and the Warsaw Pact at some point. The expected lifespan of an infantryman facing that onslaught was measured in minutes. We were ready to be fed into a meatgrinder that included chemical weapon attacks and potential tactical nukes, and we did it wearing steel helmets that hadn't changed much since WWII and no body armor.

WWIII would have featured endless replays of Camreone as pockets of defending troops held out until the last breath, the final measure of devotion to duty, as 19-year-old NATO troops gave their lives. I was one of them. I knew exactly what my chances were in Germany or the ROK. It's what I trained for. It was my job.

The war never came. But in 1995, I fought a different kind of war. I was diagnosed with Stage IV-B Hodgkin's Lymphoma and given a 60% chance of living to see my 30th birthday. I am the Infantry. I went to war. The same strength I got from serving, the same toughening to rough times, the same willpower to get through and complete the mission was focused on surviving chemotherapy.

I won but at a cost.

This year marks forty years since I raised my right hand and swore to defend the Constitution of the United States. My oath still stands. I am still the Infantry. And, if necessary, I will still fight to hold the Inn at Camerone, no matter when that ends up being.

I have munitions. I will not surrender.