This documentary follows French reservist Louis Danton, who began photographing his daily life at the front in August 1914, capturing the transition from initial military enthusiasm to the devastating realities of trench warfare. Through his personal photographs and the emotional companion Toto (a doll sent by his fiancée Blanche), the film illustrates how soldiers experienced profound psychological trauma, including nightmares, fear, and exhaustion, while maintaining hope and resilience through personal connections and symbolic objects. The documentary reveals that by November 1914, over 300,000 French soldiers had died and 600,000 were wounded, demonstrating the unprecedented human cost of World War I.
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The First Months of WWI Through One Soldier’s Photos I SLICE HISTORY | FULL DOCUMENTARYAjouté :
Nemo, Western France, August 5th, 1914.
Here I am at the barracks of the 44th Artillery Regiment. The same place I did my military service.
The men start arriving in groups.
Most of them are calm. Some are even cheerful. A few of them are tipsy, others just seem to be. I only see one man cry.
I've decided to take photos every day of this war.
For whom? Why? Who knows?
My battery is commanded by Captain Loff.
Despite his hotty manner, the man has heart and patience, and he'll need it.
>> The new recruits can barely salute.
>> Yesterday, I received this doll with a note from Bloun.
This artillery man will always be true to you, as will I.
His uniform is complete. He even wears the keppy of my regiment. I've named him Toto.
I've got you.
The early days of war brought back the trauma of defeat by the Prussians in 1870 and the loss of Alzas and Lauren.
>> In the east, Maloo fell on August the 10th, while in the north, German troops broke through Belgian defenses.
We finally leave Limo.
Our men load up the guns.
Our 75mm field guns will be firing all the way to Berlin. Berlin is the goal, and we can't stop talking about it.
But wasn't that what our elders were bragging about back in 1870?
Right before that humiliating defeat.
Monday, August 10th. We'll soon be in position. Our camp is just 20 km from the Belgian border.
Toto and I have become inseparable.
We share everything, even the stew which is revolting.
>> I'm woken by screaming. A man from the 130th Infantry Regiment has arrived from the front in a pitiful state, arms dangling, weaponless.
How did he make it to here?
With his back hunched and his head shaking, he appears not to see me.
He answers, mumbling, "Man down. Moan down."
Though his lips keep moving, we can't make out another word.
Louis Don and Toto reached the Belgian front line on August the 19th. German troops had just entered Brussels.
On the orders of General, an attack was launched at the center of the front line. Following the battle orders of the 1805 battle of Ostelitz, the French infantry preceded the cavalry, charging with bayonets pointing. They were met by German machine gun and field gun fire.
The face of warfare was changing. Joff had been slow to realize.
We're barely past the last houses when gunfire suddenly rings out.
>> We're very close to the fighting just ahead of us and to the right.
Spotters to me. The men run to the captain. Before us is a tree.
Each gunner runs to his weapon.
The spotter raises his arm.
Ready, fire.
A shell lands in the veil while our infantrymen are fighting.
One, two seconds pass.
Then we hear wailing.
13 Frenchmen and 17 enemy have fallen practically side by side.
I hesitate before taking the picture.
Soldiers are officially banned from taking photos at the front.
But I'm not the only one to ignore the rule.
By nightfall on August the 22nd, 1914, 27,000 French soldiers had already lost their lives across the entire front.
Never in the field of European conflict had so many men fallen on the battlefield in a single day.
Another defeat.
I can't get the thought out of my head.
And for a month, we've been talking about nothing but victories. The recapturing of Alsas and splitting Germany in two.
And at our first encounter, here's our army defeated.
I've lost two close brothers in arms.
Jabar, a quiet man from Normandy.
And Bucher from Britany like Captain Lgo.
All around us, Belgian civilians are fleeing.
Where, too? They don't know. They're merely walking straight ahead to France or other countries not yet targeted by Germany.
I ask an old lady pointing towards the direction we're heading in. What's up ahead?
Up ahead? There's Shalon. There's Paris.
All of France.
A moment later, she adds, "It was the same in 1870.
We beat a retreat double time.
A Vizier Toto and I managed to get a few hours sleep.
But it's interrupted by terrible nightmares.
I'm rolling around in a river of blood, surrounded by mutilated corpses.
Amid the butchery, Bloun comes to me, naked and shameless.
But Toto, my trusty sentinel, watches over me, impervious to the gunfire.
At 2:00 in the morning, Revy, we have to move immediately.
We hear that the Germans have crossed the river Moose. Where do we go? I'm too exhausted to think, let alone to be afraid.
>> French soldiers retreated despite threats from General Za. He ordered the men to pursue the Germans and execute any deserters. With a retreat of hundreds of kilometers, France was facing a route.
By late August, Paris was within reaching distance of the German army. On September the 3rd, the French government fled the capital and established its new seat in Bordeaux like in 1870.
In just 10 days, we have retreated almost 300 km.
Everyone's exhausted. But despite the debacle, Captain Lov keeps his head high.
In Nonto Ldwan, we can finally set up our guns. He orders me to hold our position.
Be brave, Don. His encouragement sounds like adu.
The night sky lights up with shell blasts. There are just 10 of us to keep the enemy at bay, and I don't think much of our chances. Paris is 50 km away. The situation is hopeless.
Only my trusty companion Toto remains unruffled.
The next morning, a miracle.
Reinforcements arrive.
Hundreds of Paris taxis have transported backup infantrymen.
But it's a bittersweet victory.
Corpses cover the recently harvested wheat fields.
From afar, we can make out their red bridges.
On September the 6th, 1914, General Galeni requisitioned 600 Paris taxes to transport reinforcements.
The next day, a second convoy of 700 vehicles left Lanveled for the front at nonto Udo.
Militarily speaking, the contribution of the taxi of the man was not decisive, but it did mark the beginning of the French counter offensive.
The battle finally seems to be turning in our favor. But at Trail Le, the Germans still occupy Kenovia farm.
In the pouring rain, we set up our battery right opposite them.
The shooting finally ends.
We're drinking a bad cup of warm coffee when a whistling sound makes me look up.
At 1500 hours and 12 minutes, Captain Lagoff is killed when a piece of shrapnel hits him just below his right eye. As he falls, 10 of us rush over to try to save him.
We carry his body back to the battery.
The doctor does all he can, but in vain.
He's gone. Tears fill my eyes.
We cover his face with a white kerchief, and I keep watch over his body throughout the night.
I can feel Toto's presence.
He's not a simple mascot like Blanch said.
I find it hard to explain to her, but this doll is much more.
Without him, I'd be dead, too. Like Jabar, like Busher, and now like Lagoff.
At the battle of the man, Franco British troops forced the Germans to retreat, thwarting their plans for an invasion of France via Belgium.
The Germans stopped on the right bank of the river N. And on September the 14th, a new western front was established.
Jaof sent a message to the French war minister. The battle of the man has ended in incontestable victory. Paris was saved.
In truth, it was the failure of both German and French planned defensives.
the war would drag on.
>> We're still in the same place. We're digging trenches.
The whole plane is covered with them.
Same thing on the German side. Only 500 m opposite us.
How long will this go on? Who knows?
We haven't a clue what's going on, whether we're advancing or retreating.
The days go by with our sights trained on an invisible enemy.
For the past week, I've been wandering the trenches with my camera.
This is John, a barber from Vizul.
And here behind the machine gun is Max, a farmer from the berry.
The newspaper Liwa has just launched an amateur photography competition.
One click to win a small fortune.
The most spectacular photos will be published.
I look at Toto who strikes a pose for me.
What do you think, Toto? Do we have a chance of winning this competition?
The front gradually stabilized from the English Channel to the Swiss border.
Each army dug its lines of trenches and underground shelters, constructing its surface defenses and laying miles of barbed wire, creating a no man's land some 300 to 500 m wide.
Numerous villages became stuck in the front line. In late October, Dontton's battery was facing the village of Leenoir near Amya.
Dear Blanch, you probably read about the events at Lenino Sult in the newspaper. I was there with Toto.
On October 28th, we went out towards the village on a scouting mission.
At 7:00 in the morning, we came close to the enemy lines, face to face with the Bosch, as my men like to call them.
We never thought we'd make it out of there alive.
We bombarded their positions for almost 12 hours.
A bayonet charge allowed us to penetrate their lines and enter Lininoa.
But once we taken the village, we had to fight off the enemy counterattack.
We spent the whole morning with our fingers on our triggers.
Milon Tuvash transported a wounded German prisoner on a gun carriage.
Tuvash said, "His mug's not as ugly as I thought."
I asked him if he expected a third eye in the middle of his forehead like the men who live on the moon.
He shrugged his shoulders. "No, I just thought they'd be uglier.
yesterday. I returned to the village.
Well, what's left of it.
There's not a single house undamaged.
November 15th, 1914. Dearest Blanch, if only you'd heard this. With his display of composure and valor, Sergeant Louis Don was a model of bravery.
General Devon pinned on my medal and went on. I decorate you for your action at Lininoa Sonte.
I thought I'd be awarded some leave and a chance to see you again, but I was soon to be disappointed.
I was sent back to the front where the trenches now extend over several kilometers.
I share my dugout with Toto.
It's literally a hole dug out of the trench wall. The roof is made of planks and logs.
With each of us in our dugout, it's like a vast family vault full of men.
But are these men still alive?
Winter comes early.
Blah will never hear of what I've been through.
She wouldn't be able to bear it.
The damp is eating away at us. The men are going crazy. We live in constant fear of a shell landing in our dugouts.
Sometimes I can see our shells landing behind enemy lines and bodies thrown into the air.
Toto is right here at my side. He's never afraid. I pin my metal on him, for the truth is he's much braver than I am.
His eyes stare at me, but never judge me.
I hear him whisper into my ear. Louie, you have the right to be scared. I'll never tell on you. Never.
Get some sleep. I'll keep watch.
I promised Blanch I'd bring you home alive.
So far, since the beginning of the war, more than 300,000 men had died and a further 600,000 had been wounded. 1914 was one of the deadliest years in the conflict.
For 4 years, Louisie and Toto would soldier on inseparably.
On the day after the armistice, Louis Dontton was reunited with Bloun and they married. On Louis's death, Toto retired to the army museum at Lizanveid in Paris.
And he's still there.
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