The Nyctalope Steps In

by Jean de La Hire

  On the surface of the island, the hurricane seemed to fall apart with a last, few violent gusts, then vanished. The Hictaner let himself sink to the sandy bottom of the ocean. Blood was pouring from his gills. He knew his time had come. He leaned against a rock. When death took him, he had one final thought for his wife and his daughter. A reddish bubble burst from his mouth and climbed slowly toward the surface of the sea. It burst in the light of dawn, leaving only a small ephemeral halo, soon swept away by the spray.

  Gauguin’s sketches of the Children of the Deep were never found.

  La Hire often mentioned the Nyctalope’s heroic feats during World War I, and, without giving any details about the various missions that he undertook. The purpose of this story by Emmanuel Gorlier is to flesh out Leo’s war-time conduct, as well as to provide an explanation for the fact that the Nyctalope appears to be estranged from his oldest son, Pierre, who is never mentioned again in the series after Les Mystères de Lyon. “Captain Danrit” was the nom-de-plume of real-life science fiction writer, politician and war hero Emile Driant, who features prominently in this tale…

  Emmanuel Gorlier: The Lesson of Captain Danrit

  On a sunny day in December 1930, the Nyctalope was reading a large, profusely illustrated book in the library of his castle at Blingy, near Versailles.

  He seemed to enjoy what he was reading. His eyes became sometimes lost in the distance, as if the book reminded him of long-lost memories half-buried in his mind. The small twitches that occasionally appeared on his face conveyed the impression that such memories were not of the best times of his life.

  His concentration was such that he did not hear his oldest son, Pierre, enter the room. The boy was surprised to discover his father totally engrossed in what appeared to be the first volume of a trilogy of popular novels.

  While reading, Leo Saint-Clair murmured: “Captain Danrit… Colonel Driant... It’s amazing how correct you were... I can almost smell the battlefield…”

  At that moment, Leo looked up and saw his son. It pulled him out of his reverie.

  “Oh, it’s you, Pierre...” he said. “You were here all the time?”

  “Yes, father. I was watching you. With some surprise, I might add…”

  “Why? I was reading this book, written by one of my oldest friends, which I bought two days ago at a charity auction.”

  The Nyctalope handed the book to his son, who took it and read the title:

  “The War of Tomorrow, by Captain Danrit. I don’t know. What’s it all about?”

  “It is a novel of scientific anticipation. Captain Danrit was the nom-de-plume of Lieutenant-Colonel Driant, who wrote many books describing futuristic wars. This one is the tale of a major conflict between France and its allies and Germany...”

  “You mean, the Great War of 1914-18…?”

  “Not exactly! He wrote that book in 1892. I’d never read it before today, and I’ve been struck by how prophetic he was in anticipating so many of the technical innovations that really happened during the Great War…”

  “You said he was one of your oldest friends?”

  “I was exaggerating a little. As a matter of fact, I only met Colonel Driant once, briefly during that war. But I must admit that it was an encounter I will never forget…”

  Pierre sat opposite his father and begged him to share his reminiscences. It was a rare privilege, for, like many veterans of the Great War, Leo Saint-Clair did not often like to remember those tumultuous years during which he had lost so many of his friends.

  “Since you ask me, and we have time before lunch, I’ll tell you about our meeting and the events surrounding it that are still classified as military secrets. I would, however, ask you not to repeat any of this, especially not to your German student friends when you go back to school after the holidays.”

  “Of course, father. You can trust me.”

  “Very well. It happened on February 20, 1916. Until then, I had been mainly engaged on different battlefields. However, a few weeks before, I’d been contacted by a Colonel Lumen who wanted to strengthen his intelligence service. He thought that, given my background and my power to see in the dark, I might be more useful for certain highly sensitive missions. Subsequently, my detachment would become permanent. But, in early 1916, it was still only as series of one-off missions to test my military potential…

  “That evening, I was walking under the cover of dark with a courier who was to take me close to the front lines where the 56th and 59th battalions commanded by Lieutenant-colonel Driant were garrisoned. The night was quiet, and nothing would have caused you to think that we were only a few miles away from the enemy lines. After crossing a checkpoint, we approached a wooden barracks located behind a row of sand bags at the edge of the Bois de Caures. Several lines of deep trenches scarred the landscape. Only the points of bayonets could be seen gleaming in the darkness.

  “At that moment, an older man came out of the command post. From the five bars on his jacket, I saw that he had the rank of Lieutenant Colonel.

  “– Colonel Driant? I asked

  “He nodded. I greeted him by saying:

  “– Captain Saint-Clair at your service, Monsieur.

  “He smiled slightly and replied:

  “At ease, Monsieur. I’m on a short patrol. Join me and tell me to what I owe the pleasure of your visit.

  “First in silence, we walked slowly towards the trench that was the nearest to the German lines. It was occupied by few soldiers. After a couple of minutes, I finally decided to speak:

  “– Is it quiet here?

  “– Yes, although the small size of our garrison worries me a little. We’re only two battalions and if we’re attacked, our position won’t be easy to defend. Has the High Command sent you?

  “– Yes Monsieur. I’m on a delicate mission... but since sound carries in the night...

  “– …And the enemy is close. I understand. Let’s get back to the post. In any event, I’ve finished here.

  “We quickly returned to the main building, went inside and sat down around a rustic table.

  “– So—your mission? he inquired at last.

  “– As you know, we use air power to detect enemy movement. Sadly, we don’t have enough planes and monitoring is sometimes incomplete, but, it is an advantage...

  “– Yes, I have always believed that the new technologies should be applied to our conflict, but please continue...

  “– There seems to be no movement of enemy troops in this sector. Yet, during the last two weeks, we’ve lost several aircraft in the area, which is rather surprising since nothing seems to be happening around here. I was sent to investigate and do a quick recon behind enemy lines...

  “– Captain Saint-Clair, I don’t want to discourage you, but you have no chance of crossing enemy lines without being detected. In daylight, it’s totally impossible, and at night, while they won’t see you, you won’t be able to see them either and...

  “– May I use your binoculars? I asked.

  “– Of course, he replied. But it’s too dark. They’ll be useless.

  “I took the binoculars and described the surrounding countryside. Even though everything was shrouded in darkness, the enemy lines appeared to me clearly. They were located on the side of a hill that faced the French lines. The top of that hill was crowned by a small wood which blocked the view. There were many sentinels, but I could tell that none would be able to prevent my passage, especially at night with an overcast sky and heavy clouds announcing rain, or possible snow considering how cold it was.

  “At that point, Colonel Driant looked at me with curiosity and said:

  “– Captain Saint-Clair... ...The Nyctalope... I’m beginning to understand…

  “We used the next two hours to determine the best approach to avoid possible encounters and evaluate the various obstacles set up by the Germans. In fact, the last fifty meters would be the most dangerous of all, and I would have to act very carefully...

  �
��At 22:00, I left the trenches and made my way to the enemy lines as quickly as I could, stooping in order to escape detection. I used my night vision to avoid any area likely to make noise or cause me trouble. When I arrived near the German trench, I began to crawl, trying to stay as far away as possible from the sentinels. They were evenly spaced, just as on the French side, which made my job easier. I entered the enemy trench and as I was about to climb out, my foot hit a metal object hidden in a mud puddle. A clear sound was heard.

  “A watchman said in German:

  “– Who goes there?

  “I responded in the same language:

  “– Don’t worry it’s me. I’m coming.

  “I walked slowly toward him just as if I was as handicapped as he was by the absence of light. The trench was lit only by a small lantern behind me which prevented him from seeing me clearly because of the back light. At the last moment, when he managed to light a lighter, he realized that I wore a French uniform, but before he could say a word or to use his weapon, I paralyzed him with a quick jujutsu choke. I had to leave hastily.

  “I left the trench on the side controlled by the Germans and headed for the woods that blocked the horizon.

  “The wooded area was relatively sparse at that point and ended rather abruptly on the other side of the hill. Once out of the woods, I had to be alert for any possible encounters, but my nyctalopic powers once again gave me a huge advantage. After crossing several fields, I came to what looked like a makeshift airfield.

  “Hidden behind a bush, I watched the airfield and understand why we had lost several aircraft. Along a dirt track were twenty Albatross B-II biplanes, all equipped with Parabellum machine guns. That could only mean one thing: the Germans had secretly created a squad of large and powerfully-armed aircraft.

  “My mission appeared to have ended with the discovery of that new German secret weapon. However, I decided to continue my exploration because the concentration of so many airplanes in this specific place still seemed odd to me. Why station this formidable air force here, where nothing important was happening?

  “I discreetly walked around the airfield and came across a small ammunition depot with a snoozing sentinel. It was of no interest. I circled it and came in sight of a large, deserted agricultural area. Obviously, I had seen everything there was to see. Puzzled, I was about to retrace my steps when I heard the distinct sound of a swear word muttered in German. I turned quickly but saw no one. It was quite bizarre. I slowly walked into the field and, again, heard people speaking in German but saw nothing. I then headed towards the voices. All of a sudden, I found myself inside a huge military camp: thousands, tens of thousands of men and equipment were all there, waiting! I stepped back, and the camp disappeared. I stepped forward again, and it reappeared! Everything then became clear to me: the camp was cloaked from sight by some unknown process. I quickly glanced around and noticed a strange little tent out of which poked an antenna that gave off a dull and continuous hum. It was difficult to draw near it without being detected. I had started to make a circular motion to approach it from the back when two senior German officers came out of the tent. They spoke loudly and I recognized the voice that had guided me to this point.

  “– Will you bet that within a month, we shall be marching under the Arc-de-Triomphe in Paris? The German Colonel laughed loudly.

  “His companion replied mockingly:

  “– I do not like making bets in a situation like this! You’re certain to win. With that prototype cloaking device Herr Doktor Krueger built for us, we made our entire Fifth Army invisible and we’ll unleash it tomorrow upon our dumbfounded enemies. Even if they were warned, they could not stop us now!

  “Hearing those words, the final details of the German plan fell into place in my mind. I now understood that the planes were there to prevent the French air force from randomly bombing the field and uncovering the cloaked army. I had to act quickly and decisively if I wanted France to retain a chance to win the war.

  “I left the tent and the cloaked area, walking quickly toward the ammunition depot. The sentinel was still half-asleep and I neutralized him without any difficulty. Inside, I made a rapid inventory of what was stored there. At first, I could not find anything directly useful: guns, ammunition, more guns, machine guns... I was going to give up when I saw a box of grenades. I hurriedly took a few. Then I returned across the field to the tent containing the cloaking device. With a quick gesture, I threw two grenades through the canvas door.

  “A huge explosion tore the air... and suddenly the Fifth German Army reappeared!

  “I did not stay to appreciate the confusion that followed. Instead, I quickly ran towards the wood. I made a wide detour to avoid the German trench, now brightly lit since the soldiers had been awakened by the explosion. A few miles away, using darkness as a cover, I was able to cross the enemy lines and return to our side.

  “Once I was back at the command post, I saw Lieutenant-Colonel Driant waiting for me. He saw me, smiled and said:

  “– So, it ended with a fireworks display after all!

  “– Unfortunately, it’s not over, Monsieur. The entire Fifth German Army is ready to attack on the other side of these woods!

  “Colonel Driant paled. He had only two battalions with him. I added:

  “– I’ll radio High Command, but I think our situation is critical, since we need at least two more days to line up sufficient forces to contain such an opponent. But I might be overly pessimistic. Let me report and see what they say.

  “While the radio officer tried to contact High Command, I watched Colonel Driant, who sat on a stone bench. His pale face reflected his strong emotions. First, he expressed deep grief. I could almost read his mind. He probably thought that, for over forty years, he had waited for a rematch of the 1870 Franco-Prussian War. At the age of 58, at the beginning of this war, he had not hesitated to leave his safe political seat to put on a soldier’s uniform once more. Now he was at the right place at the right time—but could he afford to act? Could he afford not to?

  “Against all odds, his features suddenly shifted. I saw a new resolution appear in his eyes. Now that I read his book The War of Tomorrow, I finally understand what he thought at that moment.

  “It was then he realized that he was, in fact, not entirely without resources. He had the two battalions under his command. He had previously theorized that it was vital to delay the enemy, to stop the clock as it were, in order to allow the rest of the main forces to regroup to the rear. The time had come to test the reality of his theories. He was in no mood to write one of his futuristic novels, but he had to act as if he was living in one, as he had once advocated, even if it cost him dearly.

  “Meanwhile, on the other end of the radio, the voice of High Command responded that they did not see how they could gather enough troops to contain such a mass of German forces. They needed at least 36 hours.

  “Colonel Driant got up and walked towards me. He said:

  “– Tell them that they will have them!

  “After a few seconds of silence, High Command gave the order to contain the enemy at all costs. At the same time, I received my own orders to return to my regiment at once.

  “I turned to Colonel Driant and prepared to salute him as protocol demanded, but he shook my hand and said:

  “– Go, Monsieur Saint-Clair. France cannot thank you enough for what you did tonight. But I cannot linger. I must organize our defense….”

  “We parted after we shook hands. As I walked away, I heard him give the first order:

  “– Sergeant! A double-ration of spirits for everyone. The men will need it.

  “It was four o’clock in the morning. The rest is history.

  “The next morning, February 21, 1916, at 7:15 a.m., the Fifth German Army went on the attack. A deluge of steel and gas shells fell on the French positions all day. In late afternoon, they launched their first assault. The first French positions were quickly taken. But at the Bois des Caures, Dria
nt’s men bent but did not break. After a strategic retreat and despite a rain of shells that had lasted all night and yet another attack after that, they still held their position on the morning of February 22.

  “Once the snow began to fall, the Germans resumed their offensive. In full force, the 18th Corps of the Fifth Army attacked the survivors of the two French battalions. One by one, each of their positions was taken. The 59th French Battalion was virtually annihilated. Its last, few survivors continued to defend their positions while falling back behind the trees. Gradually, Driant and his men were surrounded.

  “At 16:00, thirty-six hours after my departure, Lieutenant-Colonel Driant ordered a retreat towards Beaumont. He was amongst the last to leave the battlefield with only a few trusted men at his side.

  “But he was struck by a rifle bullet to the head, which killed him instantly.

  “His sacrifice, however, was not in vain. With the time he had managed to gain, the French army had the opportunity to regroup, according to the strategy he had once developed in his writing, and they were able to stop the German attack during what we now call the Battle of Verdun.”

  The Nyctalope’s voice broke with emotion at the memories of those times.

  “Now, you understand why I do not lightly recount my memories of that war, because they remind me too much of my missing comrades. But enough talk! It’s getting late, and Sylvie is waiting for us to have lunch…”

  Pierre noticed that his father’s last sentence had been uttered in a playful tone that rang falsely to his ears.

  After his father had left the room, he remained silent for a moment, reflecting on what the Nyctalope had just told him. Lost in thought, he too left the library slowly.

  Several years later, on the morning of July 23, 1940, a ship ran aground on the English coast. On board was Pierre Saint-Clair who had come to join General de Gaulle’s Free France forces. In recent weeks, he had long reflected on what his conduct should be. Should he, like his father, consider that all was lost and stand in the shadow of Marshal Petain and rebuild a new France upon questionable foundations, or retreat now and to return to fight on another day when the allied forces would be reconstituted?