She wasn’t thinking of changing her way of life, but she was absolutely certain that her environment was toxic. It was like a daily assault, and, from what she understood about the gîte, whilst there she would be safe from pollution. She had emailed the owners with a question that probably surprised them. She asked if it was correct that there was no internet, and more importantly, no mobile signal at the house. They took three days to reply, ‘No, sorry, no signal at the house,’ fearing that was the wrong answer.

August 1914

August 1914

When war was declared on Saturday, 1 August 1914, people expected human deaths. What they did not foresee was that alongside the tide of humanity sent to die there would also be millions of animals. In cities and in the countryside, horses were requisitioned even before troops had been gathered. Mobilisation posters that had mouldered for years in drawers in town halls were dusted off, pasted on walls and a date inserted in the box provided. Immediately, in response, husbands, fathers and sons filled entire trains taking them to kill those other husbands, fathers and sons who had been designated their enemies. Animals that had done nothing to cause war were caught up in the madness.

All over Europe, animals were enlisted for war. Hundreds of thousands of terrified horses were sent into battle, ridden by light cavalry or dragoons, carrying officers through the battlefields or towing all that was yet to be motorised. Oxen were yoked to cannons on impossible paths. It took three pairs to pull one wagon overloaded with munitions or kit, or heavy artillery weighing tons. They were exposed to the line of fire. All the docile, loyal animals man had domesticated now found themselves engaged in the fury of war and became targets for the enemy.

As soon as hostilities began, everyone was ordered to declare all their animals to the army recruiters. The prospect of war seemed to have unleashed madness. It was a madness that led to kennels and pounds being emptied in order to quickly train up dogs to sniff out mines or gas. Fearsome hounds and cuddly lapdogs alike suddenly found themselves in the heat of combat, detecting bombs. Sometimes they were loaded with explosives and a fuse and sent to blow themselves up in the enemy trenches. Just as the Romans threw flaming pigs at Hannibal’s elephants, so, in 1914, men forced sheep onto minefields so that the mines exploded under hooves rather than feet.