Maginot Peace
UNTIL the loth May, 1940, we, the Allies,
had lived in Maginot peace. We walked
around in French or British uniforms: we
did what the military commanders told us; we
constructed defence lines. In those lines we had
a strange, inexplicable faith. The advance posts of
the eastern sector made raids and were themselves
raided. All in a spirit that was never the spirit of
war. Everything moved slowly. It looked as if
there were an infinity of time in which to prepare.
We were building an army for all eternity. Ministers
told you solemnly that our armament factories
would be on their way to reaching their production
peak by the spring of 1941. The High Command
allowed peace-time scruples, even electoral
considerations, to hold up the most urgent military
work. I remember having asked a General why the
infantry were not being trained in anti-tank and
anti-aircraft warfare.
'The terror spread by this form of attack/ I said,
Vhich will be very great indeed if it's increased
by novelty, will soon be worn down by a few
experiences.'
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