By Louis Perez y Cid
One must be wary of words spoken too often. They eventually lose their weight.

"Legion family" is one of them. It is invoked, claimed, sometimes even adorned. But what exactly are we talking about?

For a family cannot be decreed. It is built, slowly, over time, through hardship, through a loyalty that is non-negotiable. The family of the French Foreign Legion did not come from nowhere. It is the fruit of nearly two centuries of history, of battles, of sacrifices made by men who, for the most part, had nothing in common except a decision: to serve.

Very early on, leaders understood that this diversity was both a potential weakness and a strength to be overcome. They chose to forge it into cohesion.

Colonel Bernelle, in 1835, established a foundational principle. In a situation of disorder and defection, he imposed the amalgamation of nationalities and a single language, French. This was not an administrative measure. It was a vision: to forge unity where everything could divide.

A century later, General Rollet gave substance to this unity. It was no longer simply a matter of fighting together, but of fostering belonging. He structured traditions, shaped a spirit, and inscribed the Legion in the long term. He transformed a troop into an institution, and an institution into a legacy.

Then General Coullon, by establishing, in particular, the Legionnaire's code of honor, clarified what must remain constant. In a changing world, he drew lines. He reminded everyone that the essential lies not in the words themselves, but in what they compel. ...Read more...

After several years of losing touch, a twist of fate brought us together again, and naturally, we shared a few confidences, particularly about the good times we spent together in the Legion.

A passionate painter, Paulo lamented, undeniably, that his work hadn't brought him the recognition he desired and felt he richly deserved. He had recently been reborn after the success of an exhibition, but the visitors' reactions unsettled him more than he should have. Somewhat withdrawn from the world, he had decided to be self-sufficient. Then one day, while looking at one of his canvases, he wondered: “Is it really worth doing this? Why on earth do I paint these pictures? Does painting help me with anything other than distracting myself and passing the time?”

These thoughts disrupted his work to such an extent that he stopped painting altogether, and there was our friend, wandering aimlessly, guided by chance, frequenting all sorts of bars. Feeling lost and unmotivated, he wondered why he had ever started painting. He fondly remembered that he had been driven by the desire to establish a kind of relationship, a beautiful communication, between himself and the world. By painting his figures and landscapes, Paulo sought to express his inner self and hoped that those interested in his work would recognize his innermost being, hidden within him, so that they would see him as a man imbued with a new vitality and generosity... Read more...

By Louis Perez y Cid
He had worn the white kepi for years.

He had known the dust that clings to the skin, the heat that crushes the will, the endless marches where the body gradually fades behind the sole decision to move forward. Above all, he remembered the silences, those heavy, almost pregnant silences, where words become useless.

He had seen men from everywhere. Different languages, battered histories, sometimes broken gazes. And yet, side by side, they held together. Bound by something ineffable, something that cannot be explained but is immediately recognizable.

And then, one day, without fanfare, almost without a sound, he understood what that word meant: the sacred. The sacred was not what he had once believed. ...Read more...

By Christian Morisot
Louis offers us a beautiful reflection that touches on a real controversy: the place of women within our veterans' associations. I am reminded of the reaction during the vast period between the two World Wars, when a married man could not be considered a good non-commissioned officer in the Legion simply because he was "handicapped" by having something to lose, which placed him on the margins of what was expected of the legionnaire's ferocious fighting spirit and his disdain for death.

In a book about the wives and partners of legionnaires, "Valiant Women," Maylis Lardet and Marie-Laure Vincensini present a testimony that brings to light those who are in the shadows of the light within our community, our "Legion family."

Another book: "Dad, Why Are You Leaving?" Marion Maloigne's statement also answers a question posed by a child in an essential dialogue between parents and children.

But let's not get sidetracked; PyC, in his remarks, justifies, defends, and explains the reasons for a women's section within the association he presides over. This initiative is, in fact, a reaction, among other things, to a text written by an officer, the regional delegate of the FSALE (Federation of Former Legionnaires' Associations), who outlines a vision of veterans' associations that seems, as Antoine Marquet so aptly puts it, "frozen in the cement of the last century, while the world has shifted into hyper-connectivity and individual autonomy." ... Read more...

By Louis Perez y Cid.

A book by Martine Trouillet.
Erwin was seventeen when he left St. Gallen, his family, without explanation, to go to Austria and join the French Foreign Legion. There, he discovered another life: military campaigns, Indochina, Algeria, and silent loyalty.

Years later, he settled in France. Life flowed by quietly. At the end of his life, he chose Clémence as his heir. She never really knew him. He had shared her mother's life for a time, without ever fully taking her place. ...Read more...