Georges Duhamel (1884–1966) is largely forgotten today. Yet in the interwar period he was quite well known in his native France, winning the Prix Goncourt for Civilisation (1918) and eventually being elected to the Académie française. Civilisation is a fictionalization of Duhamel's experiences as a field doctor during World War I; it consists of a series of vignettes that describe French soldiers in their heroism, misery, and fear. In no case is the poilu's behavior, be it strong or weak, subject to second-guessing or scorn. Civilisation describes the various reactions of decent, ordinary men to a level of chaos and destruction the world had never witnessed, “ces Français dont le monde connaît trop mal et la grandeur d’âme, et l'indomptable intelligence et la touchante naïveté” (9). Their lives at the front had marked them psychologically – “Leurs voix étaient celles de jeunes hommes, leur experience militaire celle de vieillards” (8) – while their wounds had left permanent physical scars that were sometimes the subject of macabre humor. To be assigned a bed in “La chambre de Revaud,” it was required to have “des choses curieuses extraordinaires, un petit boyau crevé, … ou la moelle épinière déboitée, ou encore un de ces cas ‘que le crâne est embouti ou que l'urine ne sort plus là où elle sortait avant c'te guerre’” (12–13; emphasis original). And, just as with Jake Barnes, the hero of The Sun Also Rises, there was a young soldier “que la mitraille l'avait cruellement frappé dans la virilité” (38).

World War I was first and foremost a shock – to the moral, political, and aesthetic values of those who participated. The initial jolt resulted from people just not expecting the war to be much different from its predecessors; many anticipated a brief, gentlemanly encounter where civilized Europe would be sure to put the upstart Huns in their place.