Chapters (64)
- Cover
- Part I
- July 1914
- Spring 2017
- August 1914
- Spring 2017
- August 1914
- August 2017
- August 1914
- August 2017
- August 1914
- August 2017
- August 1914
- August 2017
- August 1914
- August 2017
- September 1914
- August 2017
- Part II
- September 1914
- August 2017
- September 1914
- August 2017
- September 1914
- August 2017
- September 1914
- August 2017
- October 1914
- August 2017
- October 1914
- August 2017
- October 1914
- August 2017
- October 1914
- August 2017
- October 1914
- August 2017
- May 1915
- August 2017
- May 1915
- August 2017
- May 1915
- August 2017
- Part III
- August 2017
- May 1915
- August 2017
- May 1915
- August 2017
- June 1915
- August 2017
- July 1915
- August 2017
- July 1915
- August 2017
- July 1915
- August 2017
- July 1915
- August 2017
- July 1915
- August 2017
- July 1915
- August 2017
- Epilogue
Faced with this sudden catastrophe, the lion tamer had only one thought – to save his animals. He didn’t want to abandon the big cats in their cages, but nor did he want to release them into the wild, leaving the world to cope with their possible cruelty, adding animal savagery to the chaos of war. He decided to ask the mayor for permission to hide up there on the rocky hill above Orcières. As well as his wild animals, which stayed well hidden, the lion tamer had a large dog of a kind that had never been seen in those parts before. It was a black and tan sheepdog; the mayor told everyone it was called a ‘German shepherd’. People thought that the Germans mixing breeds to create dogs that were huge and haughty, muscular and ferocious-looking, was proof of their arrogance.
Animals were requisitioned from everywhere, including the circus. Horses and donkeys were taken first, but also elephants, which were used for earth-moving or to stand in for oxen sent to the front. In Lot-et-Garonne, where Wolfgang was when war was declared, the Pinder Circus’s three elephants were recruited to work the fields the very next Tuesday. They were put into extra-long harnesses and replaced the beasts requisitioned by the military authorities.
After a few days there started to be food shortages. Over most of Europe people abandoned their principles and began to kill animals in zoos to ease their hunger. People ate buffaloes and sea lions, camels and llamas; in Prague two giraffes and some kangaroos were eaten. In a world where nothing made sense, news of these things travelled fast, partly because they were shocking, and partly because they provided some distraction.
As the murderous spree continued, some donated their own animals to the war effort. But in border areas when some people refused to slaughter their domestic pigeons, it was decreed that those who did not empty their dovecotes would be liable to the death penalty. A few weeks later, hundreds of huskies were taken from Alsace to the front, to provide support for the mountain infantrymen who were dealing with early snow in the Vosges. In this mad war, it seemed as if the entire animal kingdom were being called up – but there was no place for big cats. The lion tamer understood that the fascination his lions and tigers had always exerted over crowds was very likely to count against them now. They were no longer sought after for their astonishing beauty, but because they would make a very tasty meal.
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