In Honor Of The 143rd Anniversary Of The Paris Commune-On The Barricades- The Dwindling Days

 

Henri Broue was beside himself when he heard the alarm bell, the bell that was used to warn of impending danger in front of the barricades coming now from two sources, the dreaded Prussians who had the outpost fortresses of the city under their control and now the dreaded revamped Theirs governmental forces who were charging throughout the at various point. He thought back to late March, late March when the now fallen Jean-Paul Dubois had urged the section committee to pursue the Thiers troops and disband them before they had a chance to regroup in Versailles. But that fervent brave voice was not listened to was not heeded as the spirit of the time was not following a military bend but a good riddance to bad company feeling after Theirs and company had fled to Versailles. Now with the ringing of the alarm (three long gongs, repeated) they were back, back seeking revenge, seeking blood, seeking death.    

Henri had been nothing but a young man the first time, his first time, on the barricades back in those bloody June Days of ’48 when all hell broke loose as the as the old forces tried to drown the new republic in blood, and did so. And hell that was only a republic, not even a workers republic like he and his comrades on barricade Marat (French Revolution, circa 1789, figured murdered by Corday) were trying to establish, establish through the German defeat, the starvation blockade, the perfidy of the Theirs government, their flight and now their vengeful return. The Commune had made some headway, had stabilized things for a while but they forgot a few things too, forgot they were not an isolated island in France but part of all France and should have fought, fought like hell to link up with the other communes in some kind of defensive league. Now they were being destroyed section by section without any outside help, without, as well, any forces to hold the Prussians at bay.

Henri Broue did not consider, despite his revolutionary past, himself a brave man, or a great military fighter although he accounted himself well back in the days. This he knew though, this he knew well, brave or a coward, he was going to be on barricade Marat just as long as he held breathe…