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On July 14, 1919, the victors of the First World War paraded on the Champs-Elysées, a few days after the signing of the Treaty of Versailles perceived by the Germans as a humiliation. Jeanine Fischbacher, a 15-year-old French high school student, attends the parade. She tells with verve and enthusiasm this moment of history in an intimate diary. The text was found and retranscribed many years later by his descendants. 100 years later, this unpublished testimony was sent to RFI.
June 28, 1919 It's Peace
That's all over, we are strong and tall. The ceremony at Versailles was magnificent. The revenge of 1870. The hairy feasted, all that is peace. I do not want to write a newspaper article, but I am proud to be French.
The illuminations are beautiful for the current conditions. The Bon Marché is in electricity. In the houses, flags, lanterns that flicker in the night. Cheerful bands arm in arm chatting Madelon . Everyone is happy. On July 14, the triumphant return of the troops under the Arc de Triomphe! How many people, but what glory!
July 14, 1919
We have just had a "big" day. The return of the troops under the Arc de Triomphe. The decoration of the Avenue des Champs-Elysees splendid, white mats garlanded with electric lamps, multicolored streamers, flags. Under the Arc de Triomphe, the Cenotaph, monument to the dead, in matt golden plaster, and everywhere bright colors an impression of resplendent joy. At the roundabout Champs-Elysees: four major monuments to the martyr cities. four others placed on the basins commemorating the great battles. Then the best. All the Boche guns along the avenue huddled in disorder, two enormous piles of marvelous signs of contempt of disgust, surmounted by two cocks in dull gold standing proudly. Place de la Concorde with red mats, always cords of streamer lamps. Around the lampposts lampshades tri-color.
Two days before: a crowd is already waving at the decorations. Provincial landed.
The day before: the avenue is already lined with two rows of spectators who will pass there, at night, in trees wrapped in blankets.
We wake up at 4 o'clock. I will leave with Mathilde the Alsatian cook who does not know how to fend for herself. Impossible to cross so many people; finally, before the Pont Alexandre III we cross; in the avenue des Champs-Elysees seven to eight rows of people waiting, ladders, planks on trestles flat trucks loaded with people; papers, dust, on the floor; at the top a clear sky that announces a splendid day, amid the chaos of people who shiver because it is chilly this morning. " How about getting on this cart? »« -60 francs »« - Let's leave, it's madness ». This is what we hear a crowd of people circulating as we search for a little corner " from where we will see ". We go down to the congested Concorde of people waiting there, huddled like herrings. The terrible waiting for 5 hours in this stinking crowd, striving to fight against those people who push you, shoot you, give you elbows. Finally we hear " Here they are; here they are .
And here is the unforgettable procession advancing.
A detachment of "Cipaux" (municipal guards), in full dress pants of white skin and red sidings. 20 meters behind "the leaders". Foch who looks to the right and to the left, saluting, right on a black horse the starry stick in the hand. Joffre slumped; old on a white horse, in a little black tunic, looking good-natured. Some generals of the staff among whom I notice Pau with his hook. Castelnau very acclaimed.
And here is the New World army. Pershing with square jaw at the head; and these troops of men, all beautiful and healthy, marching irreproachably with the bayonets of the rifles making a ribbon sparkling at the rising sun. What a shouting crowd of women who have strong enough lungs to scream relentlessly in a shrill voice " Long live the Tommies! Sailors with their little round hats on their heads their tight blouses and short, white gaiters. Crevants !!
Then the big fat Belgians in their ugly khaki clothes, stuck in their long hoods; they look like poor little children. And all these frayed flags. What cries in this crowd!
10 minutes of waiting, who is it! Of course, our good Englishmen; with their extraordinary phlegm they have a step so slow that all the soldiers who go behind are all the time obliged to go on the spot.
The crowd understands and is ironic.
A step well hammered in the distance, here they are! They are the ones ! Braves Tommies from last year in Varengeville, stocky or tall always worthy, strapped in kakies! They have beautiful garnet flags with splendid embroidery. Sailors have straw hats raised all around like those of children in Luxembourg.
E viva l'Italia !!
Diaz in the lead, nice sandstone, then men this pretty green gray color of their suit. It is very curious they carry their rifles with arms extended horizontally. Very unequal types, all ugly of the rest for the most part and brown, almost black.
Then all the other nations: Greeks in short pants and handkerchiefs tied on the head. Portuguese helmet curled. Serbs with a fierce air. Polish to the White Eagle. Siamese with a pointed hat and a puppet figure. Japanese small and dry. Romanians with beautiful Latin heads. Hindoos with turban and indecipherable expressions. All these men parade under the same sky of Concord.
Finally the French army itself!
Petain in the lead looks gay and laughing. Then the infantry with ragged pennants. All the beautiful guys from all over France: big and blond ones from the North. The eye lit those of the South.
And the stomping and shouting increases when ours pass, artillery, cavalry, infantry all this parade preceded by the generals; all are glorious all are noble blood! And those adorable bicots come out of the sun to enter the fire! What big laughs! The small, dry and beautiful little fusilliers, with flags overloaded with decorations.
But how many women who find themselves bad is ignoble! Every moment we take the ambulance to the other side of the square. Will an enraged sun stand alone in the midst of these people? Ah! Bah! Let's always walk like them. And this is how they all follow a procession of tanks: an officer stands on each of them, half emerging, holding a pennant with arms outstretched.
The Hurrahs are deafening!
Finally it's over.
Finally and Already!
The fall is terrible in the middle of this crowd that oscillates slowly in one direction, in another ...
Phew! Here I am at home refreshed and dazzled by all this glory that has paraded !! ....
Jeanine Fischbacher (1904-1978)
► See also: The First World War in Twenty Dates
► To listen as well: 1919 ... 1920, treaties that explode vanquished empires