La Vie en Rose

Marquel, TPVs NYTimes I Surrender Section correspondent, was learning the Marsellaise, when he read France Orders Troop Reinforcements After Attacks. Security officials say they have not established any direct links between the three domestic attacks, which have reinforced concerns about Islamic militancy.

There was something about this story that made Marquel pause. These are the French. They usually avoid foreign entanglements, at least for the past fifty years, and are not known for great military victories. Their police are so official (and often good-) looking, that people are cowed by their presence. Marquel never heard of them sending battle ready troops into their own streets. At least not since ’68. Ah, back in the day. But Marquel was determined to discover the facts over a nice espresso, perhaps a blanquette de veau, a nice Loire, some pommes soufflés, a pot de crème, and finally a nice espresso corretto.

He met with the military liaison to the U.N. mission, Pierre J’accuse.

“Pierre, what are these troops going to do in the streets of France?” Marquel asked.

 “The first priority is the safety of the populace. We are instructing them in self defense and military strategy.” Said Pierre.

“That sounds awfully challenging and complicated. How is a housewife in Lyon going to learn military strategy?” Marquel asked.

 “In France, that is not so challenging. We teach them to say loudly and clearly,  ‘Je me rends.’ That’s all. Oh, and also to keep their hands high and in view. A white flag is a useful accessory. And not difficult for a housewife from Lyon.” He explained.

“What does ‘je me rends‘ mean?” I asked.

 “A very effective strategy and tactic. It means I give up.” He said.

“Is the army going to take any direct action?” I asked.

 “We are prepared to take prisoners when necessary.” He said.

“Torture I suppose?” I asked.

 “Mais no, monsieur Marquel. We take pride in treating our prisoners as equals, as humain beings. The protocol for Islamic terrorists is to feed them fois gras. Lots of it. We use the gavage, to force feed it down their throats. Just as we do the goose. But prisoners consent really. They even beg for it. So it is not a violation of the laws of land war.” He said.

“But why. Isn’t that a bit of overkill?” I asked.

 “You might say. When we release the prisoners they are unrecognizable. Their livers protrude and they look like they’ve aged forty years. They usually die very quickly when repatriated, but that is not our responsibility. They are happy with us.” He said.

“And your military strategy?” I asked.

 “The French have not changed strategy in two hundred years. We teach our recruits the same as anybody else.” He asserted.

“What is that exactly?” I asked.

 “It is driven into our brains. Any French soldier can repeat it verbatim in his sleep.” He said.

I looked at him quizzically.

“Oh,” he said, ” say loudly and clearly, ‘je me rends,‘ both hands high and in sight, and a white flag if possible.” He said, puffing out his chest just a bit.

“Didn’t you forget the part where you call the Americans for help?” I asked.

“Not really, it used to be the most important step, but in the last few years the Americans seem to have lost their renowned ability for winning wars, they are no longer considered exceptional, and we can’t even look up to them as beacons of Democracy.” He said.

“If that’s true it sounds like you may need a new military strategy.” I suggested.

“We are working on that constantly at our Hautes Écoles. We have considered only one minor change so far.” He said.

“What would that be?” I asked.

It is complicated. We’re not sure if it should be instead of or in addition to what we have already.” He offered.

“What would that be?” I asked.

“We are to instruct them, if all fails, to shout, again loudly and clearly, ‘Allah achbar.’ And to conspicuously throw down their guns. We should be able to handle any terrorist threat.” He said.

“You just might,” I said, and ordered my espresso corretto.

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BY MARQUEL: La Vie en Rose