Thinking that the US was too occupied with the Civil War to mount
any opposition, Napoleon III, Emperor of France, set about establishing
a French colony in Mexico and sent the puppet-ruler Austrian Archduke
Maximillian, to the country in 1863. French troops of the French
Expeditionary Force had been in action as early as May 1862, first
sent to Mexico to protect French interests from the threat of
the expansionist policies of the US. This was at a time when several
European nations were embroiled in the chaotic affairs of the
region.
The Legion was at first disappointed and then incensed that it
was apparently not wanted in the new arena. In a move that might
have been regarded as mutiny in another force, the junior officers
of the Legion, with the tacit approval of their seniors, collectively
addressed a petition direct to the Emperor of France asking that
the Legion be allowed to go and fight in Mexico.
They were not to know that the French Government had very nearly
decided to give the Legion to Maximillian as it had given the
earlier one to Spain. The ruse of having the petition signed only
by the juniors did not deceive the French generals; they sacked
the Legion colonel, Butet, and punished all the senior officers
in one way or another - but the Legion, two battalions strong,
was sent to Mexico. Its colonel was now Jeanningros, an efficient
veteran of thirty years' service, including the battle of Moulay-Ishmael,
Algeria.
The Legion after landing at Vera Cruz on 28 March, found a cruel
disillusion awaiting them. The regiment had expected to march
inland to Puebla, the major Juarist centre, which the French had
placed under siege. Instead, to its bitter disappointment, it
was given the thankless duty of escort and convoy duty in the
eastern section. This was low, swampy land, rife with hideous
diseases such as yellow fever, cholera and typhus. This was soldiering
without any frills and, apart from the incessant threat of guerilla
sniping, without real action.
On 29 April, just a month after the disembarkation, colonel Jeanningros
was informed that an important road convoy was leaving Vera Cruz
for Puebla. Apart from three million francs in gold, rations and
ammunition, the convoy included essential seige equipment whose
arrival was vital to the outcome of the siege of Puebla, which
had been dragging on for a year. Colonel Jenningros decided to
send a company of Legionnaires down towards the coast to meet
the convoy on its way.
The escort, the Third Company of the First Battalion of the Foreign
Legion, started from Veracruz on April 30th, 1863 in order to
meet the convoy. The only company available, it was ravaged by
yellow fever and could muster only 62 NCOs and men on parade,
all its officers laid low by sickness. Three other officers volunteered
for duty - Captain Danjou the battalion adjutant, Lieutenant Vilain
the pay officer and Second Lieutenant Maudet. They were a formidable
trio. Danjou had been with the Legion for several years, serving
with distinction in Algeria, Crimea and Italy. In the Crimea he
had lost his left hand and now wore a wooden one in its place.
Vilain and Maudet were apparently French, though they had enlisted
as other nationalities. (As Frenchmen were not allowed to join
the Legion, instead they posed as Belgians or Swiss.) They had
come up through the ranks, had fought with efficiency and courage
and had been commissioned because of their conduct at Magenta.
These were the officers in command of the company of sixty-two
sous-officers and legionnaires, Polish, Italian, German and Spanish.
Mexican Intelligence was good, but even poor spies would have
soon heard news of a bullion convoy. The local Mexican military
leader, Colonel Milan, assembled two thousand troops - calvary
and infantry - to intercept and capture it. He anticipated no
great difficulty, especially as his calvary were efficient and
armed with Remington and Winchester repeating rifles.
Early on 30th April the 3rd Company started well ahead of the
bullion train to check that the route was clear, and at 2:30 a.m.
called at a Legion defensive post at a spot called Paso del Macho
along the corridor. Here the company commander was appalled at
the smallness of the escort and offered Danjou a platoon as reinforcement.
Danjou refused and moved on, with himself in the centre together
with the ration and ammunition mules and the company in two wings,
about 200 yards apart. Behind was a small rearguard section. Danjou
had no scouts out, though as the Legion had no horsemen, infantry
scouts would have seen very little. Trailing the company at a
distance were six hundred Juarist cavalry, led by Colonel Francisco
de Paula-Milan.
Just around 5 a.m. the 3rd Company passed through the abandoned
hamlet of Camaron, or Camerone as the French call it. It consisted
of no more than a farmhouse and outbuildings enclosed in a courtyard
and some derelict huts near by. A mile out of Camerone, Danjou
halted for breakfast and posted some sentries while water was
boiled for coffee. It was the time of day legionnaires liked best.
Unfortunately, they were never to taste it.
Almost at once, the sentries gave the alarm - they had spotted
the advance guard of the Cotaxala calvary of Don Hilario Psario,
who had been dogging their tracks since the middle of the night.
Danjou's bugler sounded the call to arms and the legionnaires
formed a square. They had only one natural advantage in that open
country; scattered profusely were clumps of tropical vegetation
and waist-high grass; something of a barrier for horsemen. Colonel
Milan, watching from a distance, decided that the fate of the
3rd Company was sealed, it would have to be wiped out for there
was to be no witnesses to the ambush he had carefully prepared
for the convoy. And if it was to be destroyed, it was vital to
attack before it could reach the shelter of Camerone.
Eight hundred horsemen charged straight into the attack. Steady
volleys from their Minie single-shot rifles kept the Mexicans
back. Colonel Milan, not risking a charge, maneuvered his men
to surround the Legion company. Danjou ordered a steady withdrawal
to the only cover available - the farm house at Camerone. But
the loss of his ration and ammunition mules which had galloped
off in fright was a serious blow.
Now in smaller groups the Mexican calvary circled the Legion company
as it moved, hung tightly and harassed the men with sniping fire.
Danjou warily moved his men through the thickest of the country
to give the Mexicans no chance to charge. Twice he halted and
fired a volley, which emptied some saddles.
But the horsemen had managed to cut off sixteen legionnaires,
and when he reached the farmhouse, Danjou had only forty-six men,
a few of them wounded. Even worse, he found that some Mexicans
had reached the place before him and now held the upper floor
and a barn in a corner of the courtyard.
In was an impossible position, but Danjou was a veteran legionnaire
and accustomed to impossible situations. He ordered barricades
across the openings and even managed to set up a perimeter defence
against the walls and sheds, though much of the courtyard was
exposed to fire from the Mexicans on the top floor and Danjou
could do nothing to get at these men. The calvary dismounted and
tried several rushes, but the legionnaires beat them off. By 9
a.m. the sun was hot and Colonel Milan sent in an officer, Lieutenant
Ramon Lainé with a demand for honorable surrender. Danjou refused,
and Mexican assaults began almost at once, with the first assault
by dismounted Mexican cavalry driven off by the Legionnaires.
But Captain Danjou was mortally wounded at 11 a.m. when he was
hit by a musket-ball fired by a sniper, probably from the barn.
Shortly before he died, he made his men vow that they would not
surrender, but would fight to the death if they must. The Legionnaires
gave him their word.
Lieutenant Vilain took command and the defence was as steady as
ever, but his thoughts when he saw the arrival of the Mexican
infantry - 1,200 men - can only be imagined. The firepower directed
at the farmhouse was very heavy. The day became hotter and hotter
and the legionnaires had no fluid other than in their water bottles
and wine flasks. Colonel Milan once again offered the French the
chance to surrender and received the single short but expressive
answer of "Merde!"
Vilain's command was valiant until he too fell - a bullet hit
him about 2 p.m. Second Lieutenant Maudet, himself handling a
rifle, now rallied the survivors. Waves of attackers tried to
swamp the defence, but the disciplined Legion fire stopped every
one of them. From time to time a legionnaire would cross the bullet-swept
courtyard to help a wounded comrade. The Mexicans set fire to
straw near the courtyard walls and the afternoon became a stifling
agony for Maudet's men. By 5 p.m. he counted twelve men who could
stand on their feet, though some could only do so by leaning against
the wall. The sweltering heat drove them in desperation to drink
their own urine and blood to keep from dying of thirst.
The Mexicans ceased firing, and from their loopholes, the French
could hear Milan haranguing his men, calling down shame upon them
that two thousand attackers had not yet managed to silence such
a pitiful handful of defenders. Then, with trumpets blaring and
drums beating, a massive Mexican rush pulled Lieutenant Maudet
and his small band out of the farmhouse and into the only shelter
left - a few outhouses. By 6 p.m. Maudet had five men alive -
Corporals Maine and Berg, Legionnaires Constantin, Leonard and
Wensel. Collectively they had only a handful of ammunition. The
approach on night could not help; it meant inevitable defeat.
There are two versions of what happened next; it hardly matters
which is the correct one, for both are incredible.
By the other account Maudet fell badly wounded and two of his
men were killed as the tiny band withdrew from room to room until
they could go no farther. Then, dazed, shocked and deafened they
stood shoulder to shoulder against a wall, their bayonets held
at guard. Certainly, Maudet was badly wounded and two men died.
Corporals Maine and Berg and Legionnaire Wensel, a Pole, survived.
The Mexicans could hardly force themselves to kill these three
men, but were about to go through the formality when a colonel,
Combas, sabre in hand, forced his way through and held back his
men.
"Surely, you have to surrender now," he said to the legionnaires.
Corporal Maine, glancing at his two comrades to check he was the
senior survivor, said, "We will surrender if you leave us our
arms and permit us to tend our wounded."
Combas replied, "I can refuse nothing to men like you" and escorted
the three to Colonel Milan. "This is all that is left?" the Colonel
exclaimed. "Then these are not men, but demons!"
From a prison cell, Corporal Berg smuggled a note out to his colonel.
It ended with the words, "The 3rd Company is no more, but I must
tell you it contained nothing but good soldiers." Berg was commissioned
on his return from captivity - the Camerone prisoners were exchanged
on a one-for-one basis - and continued an already extraordinary
career. He had been an officer in the French Regular Army and
had fought in Algeria and Syria but was cashiered and joined the
Legion as a private. Returning to Algeria after Mexican service
he was killed in a duel with a fellow subaltern. Corporal Maine
was also commissioned and became a captain. The other survivors
were all honoured: Wensel, Schaffner, Fritz, Pinzinger and Brunswick
were made Chevaliers of the Legion of Honour. Magnin, Palmaert,
Kunassec, Schreiblick, Rebares and Groski received the Military
Medal.
The Mexicans had killed 3 officers and 23 legionnaires; they had
lost 300 of their own troops killed and possibly as many as 500
wounded. And they did not capture the bullion. Danjou's forethought
in having it follow at a safe distance paid off; hearing the firing,
the convoy halted until joined by Colonel Jeanningros and a relief
force.
Jeanningros reached Camerone next day and took in the scene with
astonishment. He was even more astounded when his men discovered
a single living legionnaire under the dead; this man had eight
wounds and the Mexicans had left him for dead. He was able to
give a coherent account of the action and is believed to have
survived. It was noted that one survivor, drummer Lai, pulled
himself out from a mound of dead comrades to tell the tale.
Even more important for Legion tradition, Captain Danjou's wooden
hand was found in the ruins of Camerone and taken away to become
the Legion's most prized possession - a sacred relic. Camerone
Day became the Legion's ritual occasion, and it is celebrated
with all the pomp and ceremony that the Legion can give it. Danjou's
hand is paraded before the 1st Regiment at the base depot and
the account of the battle is read to every Legion unit each Camerone
Day. The ashes of the Camerone dead are preserved in a reliquary
carved as the Mexican eagle and are held in rotation in the chapel
of each Legion regiment. The Mexican eagle became the badge of
the 1st Regiment.
Throughout their occupation of Mexico all French troops were ordered
to halt when passing the farmhouse at Camerone and to present
arms. The Mexicans were not so anxious to preserve the epic of
Camerone and went to some trouble to reroute a railway line through
the courtyard where so many of their men were killed. But they
did leave part of the original wall, and in 1892 they permitted
the French to erect a memorial with Latin and French inscriptions:
"Here there were less than sixty opposed to a whole army. Its
mass crushed them. Life abandoned these French soldiers before
courage. The 30th of April 1863." Later a bigger monument was
erected, and in 1963 the French Army flew a large Legion contingent
to Camerone for a centenary commemoration service.
The word "Camerone" is inscribed in gold on the walls of Les Invalides
in Paris. Danjou's wooden hand rests in the Legion Hall of Honour
in Aubagne. In memory of this historic battle, today, when there
is no more ammunition left and all hope seems to be gone, the
legionnaires motivate themselves to faire Camerone and fight
to the last man.
Creating the figure
My Camerone Foreign Legionnaire is a quick Sideshow kitbash. The
CSA kepi is modified at the front of the crown to have some height,
I had to lop off some of the front in order to do this, after
which I added some air-dried sculpting clay. The kepi/havelock
was then painted matt white. The sun shade was sewn from white
fabric. There is a possiblity that the sun shade was an integral
part of the kepi cover (a havelock?) rather than being a separate
item.
The tunic is from the Sideshow Civil War accessory sets, this
is the shell jacket from the Union Army 88th NY Regiment carded
set. The blue piping was repainted dark bluish black and the entire
tunic quick-dyed in black dye. The pants were from the Sideshow
CSA trumpeter, it was double-bleached to a very light cream colour.
The gaiters were also from the Sideshow 88th NY Regiment carded
set, it was stripped of the strapings and brown threading and
used reversed (Heavens forbid!). The elastic should be replaced
with white coloured ones and reattached to the front bottom of
the gaiters.
The haversack was taken from the WW1 French infantryman set, the
canteen scratchbuilt from sculpty with the black strap taken from
the Sideshow Ulysses S. Grant binocular container. The cummerbund
was sewn from a strip of blue fabric while the fringed epaulettes
and shoulder boards were scratchbuilt from pieces of card and
red tassle to depict a grenadier.
A new leather attachment was created to hold the bayonet holder
in a vertical position, this was painted black as were the front
and back ammo pouches which were made of balsa wood and leather.
The French Minie (which bears some resemblance to the Enfield)
was substituted by an Enfield for the time being.
The figure is the Sideshow WW1 American Marine. Peublo mud/stone
ruins are made entirely out of styroform and wall plaster.
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