Veil of Mourning

Well before Dienbienphu's day of defeat came, many Frenchmen at home had given up. "Verdun?" said the moderate left-wing newspaper Combat bitterly. "Verdun was a position which could be held at all costs because the entire future depended on it ... But what does Dienbienphu mean for the French fighting man? ... An obsessive, slow and stubborn war. A terrible kind of war for which the French were not made--because they have clear intelligence, and like to know for what they are fighting. They are impulsive, and need to have a little glory stirring their flags, a little enthusiasm swelling their hearts . . . But here all is dull, doubtful and enigmatic."

In the National Assembly--even while Dienbienphu still stood--the rush was on to call off the whole embittering war in Indo-China. A man of Munich mounted the rostrum, an older, shrunken figure of the man who in 1938 spoke for the abandonment of Czechoslovakia. "Ceasefire and armistice are in the vital interest of the French army," said Edouard Daladier, now 69. "I fear that if we await the decision of the international conference in Geneva, we shall find ourselves . . . too late, much too late."

The Dismal Rain. From speaker.after speaker, the words "immediate ceasefire" drummed on the government like a dismal rain. Premier Joseph Laniel tried to head off the downpour until after Geneva, arguing in effect that the government could better come to terms at Geneva if let alone. The critics persisted. Laniel and his Cabinet made the issue--whether to debate Indo-China now or later--an issue of confidence. Laniel won his vote of confidence 311 to 262, but it .was only a stay until another showdown soon--and probably the last confidence vote the Laniel government would win.

Less than 48 hours later, the big, stolid textile millionaire who has governed France for ten shaky months bowed his head before the hushed Deputies. "The government has just learned that the central redoubt of Dienbienphu has fallen . . ." said he. "In the face of this reverse . . . France will have the virile reaction of a great nation." Without signal, the Deputies of France rose to their feet--all but the many Deputies of the Communist Party (and one ex-Gaullist). In their smug disdain for the dead of Dienbienphu, the Communists who call themselves Frenchmen showed their true colors.

"Shoot Him!" As the bitter news spread across France, national theaters' were closed down for two days (many ticket buyers were disappointed by the cancellation of the long-anticipated Soviet ballet at the Opera). A special Mass was scheduled at Notre Dame. "A veil of mourning has fallen over France," said Edouard Herriot, aged (81) veteran of France's many modern sadnesses.

The defeat coincided with two of

France's greatest holidays--the ninth anniversary of V-E day and the feast day of Joan of Arc. There was little rejoicing on the gaily beflagged, sunshiny boulevards, but neither was there much demonstration. On the V-E holiday, police lined the Champs Elysees to protect the government ministers who came to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at the Arch of Triumph. President Rene Coty--whose badge of office usually excites big applause --got only a scattering of handclaps. Premier Laniel's car rolled past and some shouted and hissed. "Send him to Dienbienphu," cried some. "Shoot him!" others shouted. Defense Minister Rene Pleven drew the same derision. "Resign! Resign!" some in the crowd chanted. Whether these shouts represented isolated outbursts or the common mood was hard to tell.

"Who?" The Communists were not forgotten--stones were thrown through the windows of some Red offices in Paris, firebombs were tossed into a Communist newspaper plant in Nice, and some Soviet flags were torn down from a group of allied flags near Lille. "The real conquerors are the friends of Thorez and Duclos," reminded Le Figaro. "It is they who, on the ruins and on the tomb, ought to raise the Red banner at the head of the dead."

But most of the anger Frenchmen heaped on their confused, divided leaders. "Who placed De Castries and his men in this trap? Who is officially or unofficially responsible? . . . Who? What party? What minister? What general?" demanded Franc-Tireur. On their allies: "Why didn't America help us?" moaned a bewildered old Parisian lady. And on themselves : "The fighters of Dienbienphu died because we lied to ourselves . . . What these sacrifices demand is an examination of our conscience," said Le Figaro.

Perhaps out of the re-examination might yet come some spine-stiffening resolve to exact a price from the Communists for Dienbienphu, or a determination --if they got no cease-fire at Geneva--to fight on. But all that could be said for the moment was that Dienbienphu had shocked France deeply.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.