Franco Prussina and Great War

Pechot and Kitchener Prosper Péchot (1849 to 1928) was very different to Horatio Herbert Kitchener (1850 to 1916). For a start, one was French, one British, one a mere Colonel, the other a Field Marshal, one a Sapper, the other in the French Artillerie, but the two both influenced the course of the First World War. Their early lives crossed. In 1870, Kitchener was in western France, staying with French relatives when France declared war on Prussia on 18th July. Prosper Péchot was finishing the first year of a course at the celebrated Ecole Polytechnique in Paris as Army officer-in-training.

This sketch, author’s collection, shows a contemporary French fantassin. He carries the chassepot rifle, his kepi is blue and red, his coat blue, trousers red and the outfit is completed with white spats. On 19th September, when Paris was besieged by the enemy, Péchot was on sick-leave. His fellow students enlisted as a man to defend the capital, but he was convalescing back at home in Brittany. The advancing Prussians had captured or contained in one way or another most of the regular French army; the Second Empire of Napoleon III was replaced by a French Republic. Some might have sued for peace, but Paris and western France did not give in.

This sketch, author’s collection, shows a member of the Prussian infantry. He is wearing the distinctive cap in dark blue with its small white emblem, dark blue tunic and black trousers tucked into the famous German Army boots. The equally famous greatcoat is slung across one shoulder. His right hand holds a Dreyse rifle with fixed bayonet. The Prussian Army numbered around half a million. It is true that half this number were employed in starving out Paris, guarding prisoners of war etc but that left quite a number to mop up the resistance. There were about 95000 French regulars at liberty. Amazingly, over the next four months, they were boosted by half a million volunteers. Both our heroes were stirred by this activity. Kitchener joined a Field Ambulance Brigade but found time to take a trip in a balloon to see the ‘Army of the Loire’ in action against the Prussian foe. It was cold, of course, as it was winter and colder still up in the balloon. He caught pneumonia and was whisked back to England. He was commissioned into the Royal Engineers on 4th January 1871. Once Péchot had recovered, he too reported for duty and was assigned a transport detail in the Rennes area. The trouble was that the Armi(es) of the Loire formed and reformed. Numerous but inexperienced and totally untrained, they were no match for the German regular army. When defeated, they melted away and blended in with their French fellows. It meant that Péchot and his team never knew where to dispatch supplies. In the end, as he recalled, they were just trying to keep supplies and themselves out of the hands of the enemy. On 28th January 1871, the young Republic capitulated. Among all military goods, Péchot’s arms and ammunition were now ceded to Germany. Their services to France had its effects on future careers. Kitchener was reprimanded for embarrassing the British Army. He had violated its strict rule of neutrality towards the War. He was shipped off to the colonies, dabbled in imperial adventures and learned fluent Arabic. In the end, it did his career no harm. Young Péchot was haunted for life by the French defeat. He was also frustrated by how little he could achieve as a serving officer, given the state of French railways at the time. He vowed to improve matters. He realised that without efficient logistics (my modern term) an army could not fight a modern war. He invented, with help from Paul Decauville – also seared by his experience in 1870-1) – the Péchot system of portable 60cm gauge railways.

The fruit of Péchot’s labours was the sprung bogie and bogie wagon. This drawing appears courtesy of Dr Christian Cénac. The wagon could run reliably on hastily laid prefabricated narrow gauge track yet it could carry ten tonnes of supplies - across fields or unpaved roads. It was the best transport available before tracked vehicles were introduced. He worked tirelessly to promote it. In the time leading up to World War 1, Kitchener’s career blossomed. When he was young, he was a rapid adopter of technology, weapons and railways. He used his surveying skills and the newly introduced machine gun to terrifying effect at the Battle of Omdurman. He was heard to remark ‘We have given them a damn good dusting!’ It was a pity about all the deaths, but the Mahdist regime was not entirely pretty. Kitchener was able to free thousands of enslaved people. Kitchener made General before 1900. Péchot’s career stagnated. In the view of his superiors, he was an obstinate Breton, obsessed with an expensive military toy. In a particularly mean move, they only made him Colonel in 1902, where he stayed until definitive retirement in 1911. His postings were always well away from Paris or Toul, the two places from which he did so much for his System. He had to make train journeys with, say, a 60cm gauge turn-table in his passenger luggage or personally push a bogie a couple of kilometres down the track. While these could be considered amusing anecdotes, it shows how far he allowed his superiors to push him in order to advance his cause. Kitchener was implicated in the scandalous concentration camps of the Boer War but achieved a relationship with Louis Botha and other Boer leaders. This was to stand Britain in good stead during World War 1. He was created Viscount Kitchener in 1902.

THis photo, author's collection, shows Horatio Herbert, Lord Kitchener of Khartoum, in Field Marshal's uniform. René Puaux, writing in 1916, described him as a shining warrior who was a misogynist and lived only for the exercise of authority and his collection of porcelain. I wonder what Puaux really meant. Péchot had a few career boosts. From 1882, when he had a fully designed and costed scheme, to 1888, he struggled to have his System recognised. In 1885, the French Navy, of all institutions, backed him to produce a ‘strike force’ which would enable marines to land on a beach, install a short railway and efficiently unload guns and material. In the 1890s, the Colonial Service made use of his ideas. In 1888, serious trials took place, to see if portable railways could solve the problems of the Army. For once, Péchot’s ideas were given a fair trial. The background was this: France put a lot of faith in a curtain of modern fortresses which were to halt the enemy at the frontier. The advent of high explosive threatened these. A screen of earth sheltered defences were introduced to prevent the enemy from getting within range. The photograph taken by MD Wright shows the entrance to Fort Girancourt, one of the 16 forts built to defend Fortress Epinal. These fort were in turn screened by 34 redoutes and 60 gun batteries.

An adaptable railway system would be most useful in helping to build and supply such subsidiary fortifications. The Génie (Engineers) favoured metre gauge railways, the Navy and Artillierie 60cm. And in the end, who actually supported Péchot’s system? Charles de Freycinet (1828-1923) was also involved with the Armies of the Loire. Léon Gambetta is the person remembered for escaping from Paris and raising new volunteers from the west of France. De Freycinet, though an engineer rather than professional soldier, was his enabler. It is not clear if he met Prosper Péchot, but he saw the problems that the young man was trying to solve. De Freycinet had as successful a political career as anyone during the Third Republic; in 1888, he was one of the few civilians to hold office as Minister of War (equivalent to the British Ministry of Defence). Although he was not involved in professional in-fighting, his military service in 1870-1 counted in his favour. He headed up the Committee assessing the trials comparing metre gauge with 60 cm. If he backed either scheme, he would offend someone. He came down in favour of the 60cm System but tactfully gave it the official name of Artillerie 1888. Ironically, the Germans adopted this system more enthusiastically than did the French. It is a proven fact that Germans were observing the French trials and within a few months, they abandoned their existing military designs and adopted, pretty broadly the French one. 60cm gauge locomotive-hauled bogie-wagons made trench supply possible for both sides during the First World War – guns, ammunition, engineering supplies, food, drink and the evacuation of soldiers and spent shell cases. Prosper Péchot was asked to come back to serve his country and provided technical leadership as France scrambled to update its military logistics. This picture, courtesy of the Péchot family, shows Propser Péchot in 1909, having received his Légion d'Honneur.

(Horatio) Herbert Kitchener is famous for providing the iconic recruiting poster from August 1914 onwards. He provided a powerful figurehead for attracting half a million volunteers to the armed forces but his ideas about technology had become somewhat outdated. He was infamous for discouraging the British from using field railways. Very soon after his death, War Department Light Railways came into being – but that is another story. You might like to look at: Dr Christian Cénac Soixante Centimetre pour ravitailler l'Armée francaise pendant la guerre de 14-18 (French language) This is a treasure trove of drawings of French 60cm gauge rail and rolling stock René Puaux wrote in l'Illustration magazine, number dated 10th June 1916 Sarah Wright Colonel Péchot: Tracks To The Trenches This is the story of Prosper Péchot and his wonderful narrow-gauge railway system