The Fear of Living by Henry Bordeaux

The chief occupation of the Mayor of Cognin in the morning was to read his paper. With the exception of the workmen from the neighboring factories, who came in the early morning to the inn and stood at the bar to drink their small glass of white wine by the wavering light of a candle, he saw few customers till mid-day. Seated astride a chair, his back to the fire, he provided himself for the day with the political news in the _Lyons Republican_ and _Le Progrès_. Thus after luncheon he was able to retail to the electors both wine and news.

When on the morning of February 26th he unfolded the papers, he was horrified to see this great headline across the page:

"Victory at Timmimun. Death of Commander Guibert. " It had never occurred to him that the death of a fellow-townsman of his could cause such a stir. With a red face, and vaguely uneasy about his own responsibility, he began to read slowly the grim official story that the journalist had adorned with several pompous phrases.

"The War Office has forwarded to us a telegram announcing a victory in the Touât region, at Timmimun. We would herald it with joy as a fresh triumph of our army, had it not cost us a precious life, that of the conqueror himself, Commander Guibert. Our political preoccupations must not be permitted to distract our attention from the spectacle of these far-off struggles, where French blood is being shed so heroically. It was in the spring of last year that, after the taking of In Salah and the occupation of the Gourara district by the column under Colonel Ménestrel, a little garrison was stationed in this southern village. Not far away from this place, the sanguinary battles of Sahela and El Metarfa were fought, where the second battalion of the Saharan Rifles repulsed the marauding Berabers and Doui-Menias and where Captain Jacques and Lieutenant Depardieu met their glorious death. When last winter General Lervières, chief-in-command in Algiers, was ordered to occupy the Gourara country by force and to proceed to establish himself in the Touât, he left at Timmimun camp a garrison of one hundred fifty men, amply provisioned, under Commander Guibert, assisted by Captain Berlier.

"Commander Guibert, who had just returned to France with the Moureau-Jamy expedition insisted on rejoining his battalion in the extreme south. In spite of the two years which were consumed in crossing Africa, he refused leave and hastened to his post. On the night of the 17-18th of February last, a party of Berabers, estimated to be about one thousand strong, succeeded in approaching Timmimun. The terror inspired by this tribe is such and their mobility so great that they can cross an immense stretch of country without the native regiments having the slightest knowledge of their movements. At daybreak or even before dawn, they opened their attack on the camp.

"A sentry, firing half a dozen shots as he fell back, gave the alarm. The Berabers jumping over the tumbledown walls penetrated to the inner court. In the meantime the garrison assembled in haste under the orders of their chief and soon the Berabers were put to flight, leaving three hundred dead on the ground. But our losses were cruel. Ten were dead, including the officer in command, a commissariat officer, and a sergeant, and more than thirty wounded. Commander Guibert was killed at the end of the skirmish by a bullet passing through his forehead just as the Berabers were fleeing in disorder. Commander Guibert was the youngest chief of battalion in our entire French Army. Captain at twenty-eight and decorated with the Legion of Honour for his brilliant services in the Madagascan campaign, especially at the battle of Andriba, he had taken part in the Moureau expedition, which had just crossed the Sahara. The victor of Rabah, he had been made commander and officer of the Legion of Honour on his return. He was only thirty-two. Born in the town of Cognin near Chambéry (Savoy), he belonged to one of the most respected families of our neighborhood. Called to the highest military destinies, he leaves a glorious memory behind. Savoy is proud of him and cannot fail to honor his memory worthily."

"Great Heavens! " cried the Mayor as he finished reading this. He verified the name of the paper, fearing he might have lighted on some wretched opposition rag.

The Conservative Nouvelliste and the Radical-Socialist Progrès, which he just skimmed, gave exactly the same account; the first adding several criticisms on the carelessness of the intelligence department in Algiers, the second accompanying it with some humanitarian remarks on the uselessness of colonial expeditions. But all, whatever their political opinions might be, united in honoring the worth of Commander Guibert, praised his splendid career, and deplored his loss.

"That confounded schoolmaster! " cried the Mayor of Cognin.

He took up his hat and was going out. On the doorstep he stopped short. An officer on horseback in full uniform, wearing gold epaulettes, stopped in front of the Café National.

"Can you direct me to Madame Guibert's house, please?"

A few countryfolk, drawn by curiosity, grouped themselves round the rider.

"Keep along the high road as far as the Vimines road. Then follow the path through the oakwood. After the wood turn to the left and that is Le Maupas."

"Thank you," said the officer, and he was already giving rein to his horse when the Mayor called out:

"You are going to visit the lady like that?"

The aide-de-camp glared scornfully at this red-faced individual, and spurring his horse replied between his teeth, "Naturally."

"Good," answered the innkeeper, to please the women who were listening to him. And he grew scarlet.