Camerone,
a still-living symbol of the spirit of sacrifice on the battlefield
By Mélanie Courtemanche-Dancause
And what a legend it is! The year is 1863 in Sidi Bel Abbes: the legionnaires of the Foreign Legion, who had distinguished themselves not only as combatants at Magenta and Sevastopol, but also as renowned builders in Algeria, embarked on the ships Saint-Louis and Wagram to reach the shores of Mexico.
From the very beginning of the story, there is something that already evokes epic tales and great destinies.
Arriving in Mexico with his men, Captain Danjou, whose amputated forearm had not prevented him from serving nobly at Solferino, once again disregards his disability to accept the mission that will prove fatal: clearing a 35-kilometer road through enemy territory to allow the passage of a French convoy.
Some, including Legionnaire Timmermans, who is only 17 and will not survive, are unaware that they are about to experience their baptism of fire. Indeed, there are some of these young recruits who barely know how to handle their weapons, but who will quickly rise to the occasion in the face of the trap set for them.
The legionnaires' departure is announced for 1:00 a.m., and they will have covered 24 kilometers on a forced march before being spotted around 7:00 a.m.; hunted and surrounded, Captain Danjou's legionnaires are forced to take refuge in a hacienda. As the hours pass, they see hundreds of Mexican army soldiers arrive in waves: 2,000 men will soon be amassing at the gates of their refuge.
So, History with a capital H unfolds, and legend rumbles underground, for while all these circumstances might lead an ordinary person straight to despair, the legionnaires respond to the fatalism of Camerone with an unwavering faith in what is known as the Sacred Mission.
Having not yet had the chance to resist, a Mexican soldier has already demanded their surrender. In the fine tradition of Cambronne, they reply: "We have ammunition and we will not surrender!" Captain Danjou then scans the horizon, dreaming of rescue, but he harbors no illusions.
He remembers that his legionnaires are dying of thirst under the scorching sun, the mules carrying supplies having escaped in the early hours of the morning, and the soldiers having neither eaten nor drunk since the previous night. He takes a bottle of wine from his knapsack and shares it with all his men. They drink this cup to the dregs: swearing to fight to the last cartridge, they take the Oath of Camerone. Was there ever a more solemn and profound communion in the entire history of the French Army?
…/…
At Camerone, all the units of the Foreign Legion gather to remember the sacrifice and courage of their ancestors. A secular celebration is combined with the religious veneration of memory, accompanied by relics such as the articulated wooden hand of Captain Danjou; a procession to the sound of Handel's Sarabande; a liturgy such as the official account of the battle recited by a legionnaire before the assembly; a remembrance in homage to the Veterans – Do this in memory of me! –; and also, the monastic creed of "Legio Patria Nostra!" "Chanted by the single voice of thousands of foreign souls voluntarily enlisted.
Acts of mad resistance and absurd hope, the love of lost causes—France has seen them before; it is even a national tradition. But what regiment can rival the Foreign Legion in fanning the embers of the past and its passion for remembrance?
The Foreign Legion rises because it is utterly devoted to the memory of a Danjou, a Jeanpierre, a Seeger, an Amilakvari, a Saint Marc, a Sairigné. It is the heroes of the past who dictate their way of life. Thus, even today, legionnaires recite their Code of Honor, and then, having reached Article VI—The mission is sacred, you carry it out to the end and, if necessary, in operations, at the peril of your life—still think of the last cartridge and the noble gesture of the bayonet."