War's Distant Thunder

In a mountain sanatorium, men from many nations—sick, reflective, and isolated—receive news of war's outbreak. Their detachment from the world gives them a unique, almost prophetic perspective. They see the coming conflict as a senseless, suicidal act, a storm that will sweep away the old world. The vision of millions marching to their deaths haunts them, and they sense that the future will be shaped by the suffering masses, not the powerful few. The storm outside mirrors the storm within, and the men realize that war is an elemental force, impossible to forbid or control, and that its true meaning will only be revealed in the suffering to come.

Baptism in the Mud

The narrative plunges into the daily reality of the French infantry: endless mud, filth, lice, and the constant threat of death. The men are a motley collection from all walks of life, thrown together by fate. Their uniforms are patched and their bodies battered, but they adapt, finding humor and camaraderie in shared suffering. Hunger, cold, and exhaustion are constant companions. The men's differences—of age, region, and background—are erased by the brutal sameness of trench life. They become waiting-machines, living from meal to meal, letter to letter, and attack to attack, their individuality submerged in the collective misery of war.

Feast of Survivors

After a brutal shift in the trenches, the battered survivors of the 18th Company return to the rear. Despite the loss of many comrades, the men are jubilant—they have survived. Their laughter and relief are tinged with guilt and disbelief. The dead are quickly forgotten in the euphoria of escape, and the men celebrate their luck, knowing that in six weeks they will return to the front. The cycle of fear, danger, and relief becomes the rhythm of their lives, and the only certainty is that survival is always temporary.

Lost and Found

Volpatte and Fouillade, separated from their unit and forgotten in a shell-hole, endure days of isolation, hunger, and fear. Volpatte is wounded, but his injury becomes a ticket to safety—a "good wound" that will send him home. The men's envy is palpable; in the logic of the trenches, a wound is a blessing. The fleeting appearance of Eudoxie, a mysterious refugee woman, stirs longing and desire among the men, especially Lamuse, whose unrequited love becomes another form of suffering. The chapter explores the thin line between luck and misfortune, and the ways in which war distorts all values.

Sanctuary and Selfishness

The regiment moves to a rear village for rest, and the men scramble for the best billets and food. The locals, eager to profit from the soldiers, charge exorbitant prices and hoard supplies. The soldiers, in turn, exploit every opportunity for comfort, forming alliances and rivalries. The illusion of sanctuary is quickly shattered by the realities of greed, scarcity, and the ever-present threat of return to the front. Even in rest, the men are restless, haunted by memories and the knowledge that safety is always temporary.

Settling into Squalor

As the days of rest stretch on, the men begin to settle into a semblance of normalcy. They watch chickens in the yard, gossip, and reminisce about home. Farfadet, the sensitive clerk, finds love with Eudoxie and a transfer to a safer post, arousing envy and resignation in his comrades. The men dream of the war ending, of staying in the village forever, but beneath the surface they know that change is inevitable. The chapter captures the fragile, fleeting nature of happiness in wartime, and the ways in which men adapt to even the most squalid conditions.

The Machine of War

The regiment is abruptly ordered to move, and the men are swept up in the vast machinery of war. The chaos of entrainment—trains, convoys, and endless waiting—reveals the scale and impersonality of the conflict. The men are cogs in a vast, indifferent system, their individuality erased by numbers and orders. The narrative dwells on the absurdity and futility of the war's organization, and the sense of powerlessness that pervades every aspect of military life.

Homeward Longings

Eudore returns from leave, having seen his wife for only a brief, unsatisfying moment. The story of his journey home is one of frustration, missed connections, and the impossibility of recapturing lost happiness. The men listen with a mixture of envy and pity, recognizing that the home they long for is always just out of reach. The chapter explores the gulf between the front and the rear, and the ways in which war warps even the most intimate relationships.

The Anger of Volpatte

Volpatte returns from sick-leave, seething with anger at the shirkers and profiteers he has seen behind the lines. He rails against the injustice of a system that allows so many to avoid danger while the same men are always sent to the front. His rage is echoed by his comrades, who list the many ways in which the burdens of war are unfairly distributed. The chapter is a scathing indictment of the rear, the bureaucracy, and the hypocrisy of those who profit from the suffering of others.

The Execution Post

The regiment witnesses the execution of a deserter, Cajard, shot as an example to the others. The event is recounted with horror and pity; the condemned man is not a criminal, but a victim of fear and circumstance. The execution post becomes a symbol of the war's relentless, impersonal cruelty, and the ways in which discipline and punishment are used to maintain order in the face of chaos. The men are left to ponder the thin line between heroism and cowardice, and the arbitrary nature of fate.

The Dog and the Drunk

In miserable quarters, Fouillade, cold and homesick, dreams of the wine of his native South. Denied even this small comfort, he finds kinship with Labri, the neglected company dog. Their shared misery becomes a symbol of the war's dehumanizing effects, and the ways in which even the smallest pleasures are denied. The chapter is a meditation on longing, deprivation, and the search for solace in a world stripped of comfort.

The Doorway to Ruin

Poterloo, a miner from Souchez, returns with the narrator to his ruined village, now a wasteland of mud, corpses, and shattered memories. The devastation is total; nothing remains of his former life. The journey becomes a meditation on loss, memory, and the impossibility of return. Poterloo's encounter with his wife, seen through a window in occupied Lens, is a moment of profound alienation and heartbreak. The chapter captures the war's power to erase the past and sever all ties to home and identity.

The Weight of Burdens

As the men prepare to return to the front, they inventory their possessions—knives, letters, photographs, trinkets—each item a link to their former lives. The physical burden of their packs mirrors the emotional weight they carry: memories, hopes, fears, and the knowledge that each journey to the trenches may be their last. The chapter explores the rituals of preparation, the superstitions and small comforts that sustain the men, and the ways in which war reduces life to its barest essentials.

The Egg and the Idyll

Amidst hunger and deprivation, Paradis gives the narrator a precious egg, a gesture of friendship and solidarity. Later, Paradis finds unexpected joy in polishing a young woman's boots, a moment of tenderness and connection that stands in stark contrast to the brutality of war. These small acts of kindness and beauty become lifelines, reminders of humanity in an inhuman world.

The Sap's Secret

Lamuse, the gentle giant, is sent to help dig a sap and discovers the corpse of Eudoxie, the woman he loved from afar. The encounter is both horrific and poignant; in death, Eudoxie is finally within his grasp, but the embrace is one of decay and loss. The chapter is a meditation on unfulfilled longing, the grotesque intimacy of death, and the ways in which war perverts all human desires.

Bombardment's Fury

The men endure a massive bombardment, the earth shaking and the air filled with fire and steel. The narrative captures the sensory overload, the terror, and the randomness of survival. The men's attempts to make sense of the different shells, the patterns of fire, and the logic of the battle are ultimately futile; in the end, all that matters is endurance. The bombardment becomes a symbol of the war's incomprehensible violence and the smallness of individual lives in the face of mechanized destruction.

Under Fire

The company is ordered to attack, and the narrative plunges into the chaos of battle: the rush across no man's land, the storm of bullets and shells, the confusion and terror. Many are killed, including beloved comrades like Lamuse, Barque, Biquet, and Eudore. The survivors are left to bury the dead, to mourn, and to question the meaning of their sacrifice. The chapter is a searing account of combat, loss, and the search for meaning in the midst of horror.

The Fatigue-Party

The men are sent on a night fatigue-party, digging trenches in the rain and mud, lost and disoriented, harried by shells and exhaustion. The work is endless, the conditions appalling, and the rewards nonexistent. The chapter captures the grinding, dehumanizing labor that sustains the war, and the ways in which the men are reduced to beasts of burden, their individuality erased by fatigue and suffering.

The Drowned Dawn

After a night of rain and bombardment, the men awaken to find the trenches flooded, the landscape transformed into a sea of mud and corpses. Many have drowned in the night, unable to escape the rising water. The survivors are paralyzed by cold, hunger, and despair. The chapter is a vision of the war's ultimate futility, the point at which all endurance is exhausted and all hope extinguished.

The Protest of the Living

In the aftermath of disaster, the survivors gather to reflect on the meaning of their suffering. They reject the lies of glory and heroism, denounce the profiteers and warmongers, and dream of a world without war. Their protest is both a cry of pain and a declaration of hope: that the sacrifices of the common soldier will not be in vain, that the future will be shaped by the lessons of their suffering, and that the world must change. The chapter ends with a vision of dawn breaking through the clouds, a fragile promise of renewal and peace.

Characters

The Narrator

The unnamed narrator is both participant and chronicler, a reflective and sensitive presence amid the chaos. He observes his comrades with empathy and insight, capturing their quirks, fears, and small acts of heroism. He is haunted by the senselessness of the war, searching for meaning in suffering and solidarity in shared hardship. His psychological journey mirrors that of the squad: from naive patriotism to disillusionment, from despair to a fragile hope for a better world.

Volpatte

Volpatte is sharp-tongued, quick-witted, and fiercely critical of injustice. His experiences—being wounded, forgotten, and sent to the rear—make him acutely aware of the inequalities and hypocrisies of the war. He rails against shirkers, profiteers, and the machinery of bureaucracy, voicing the anger and frustration of the common soldier. Yet beneath his bitterness lies a deep loyalty to his comrades and a longing for a world where sacrifice is not wasted.

Lamuse

Lamuse is physically imposing but emotionally vulnerable, his unrequited love for Eudoxie a source of both strength and suffering. He is kind-hearted, loyal, and often the peacemaker in the squad. His death—embracing the corpse of Eudoxie in the sap—symbolizes the war's power to destroy innocence and pervert desire. Lamuse's journey is one of longing, loss, and ultimate sacrifice.

Fouillade

Fouillade is a Southerner, always dreaming of home, wine, and warmth. His attempts to find comfort—washing in the cold, seeking out a fellow countryman's tavern—are often thwarted, and his misery is both comic and poignant. His kinship with the neglected dog Labri highlights the dehumanizing effects of war, and his resilience in the face of deprivation is a testament to the endurance of the human spirit.

Paradis

Paradis is a solid, reliable presence, often acting as a bridge between the more volatile members of the squad. His moments of tenderness—giving the narrator an egg, polishing a young woman's boots—reveal a deep capacity for kindness and empathy. Paradis's endurance and adaptability make him a model of the ordinary heroism that sustains the men through hardship.

Farfadet

Farfadet is a clerk, more educated and refined than most of his comrades. His love affair with Eudoxie and his eventual transfer to a safer post set him apart, arousing both envy and admiration. Farfadet's introspection and vulnerability make him a symbol of the war's power to isolate and transform, and his fate is a reminder of the randomness of survival.

Barque

Barque is the squad's fixer, always finding ways to improve their lot—whether by acquiring extra rations, inventing new uses for old equipment, or mocking the absurdities of military life. His humor and ingenuity are vital to the squad's morale, but his death in the attack is a stark reminder of the war's indifference to individual merit.

Biquet

Biquet is one of the youngest in the squad, full of energy and enthusiasm. His innocence is gradually eroded by the realities of war, and his death is particularly poignant—a symbol of the generation lost to the conflict. Biquet's letters home, full of reassurances and small lies, capture the gulf between the front and the rear.

Eudoxie

Eudoxie is a refugee woman who becomes the object of desire for several men, especially Lamuse and Farfadet. She is both real and symbolic—a reminder of beauty, love, and normal life amid the horror. Her death in the sap, discovered by Lamuse, is a moment of profound pathos, encapsulating the war's power to destroy all that is cherished.

Bertrand

Corporal Bertrand is respected by all for his fairness, courage, and wisdom. He is a stabilizing force, guiding the men through danger and uncertainty. Bertrand's reflections on the meaning of the war, his rejection of false heroism, and his ultimate death in the attack make him the squad's conscience and its greatest loss.

Plot Devices

Fragmented, episodic narrative structure

The novel is structured as a series of loosely connected episodes, vignettes, and conversations, rather than a traditional linear plot. This fragmentation mirrors the disjointed, unpredictable nature of trench warfare, where time is measured in hours of boredom punctuated by moments of terror. The lack of a central plot or heroic arc emphasizes the collective experience of the squad, the randomness of survival, and the futility of seeking meaning in chaos.

Shifting perspectives and collective voice

The narrative often shifts between first-person singular and plural, dissolving the boundaries between the narrator and his comrades. This technique reinforces the sense of shared suffering and the erasure of individuality in the trenches. The use of dialogue, dialect, and slang gives voice to the diverse backgrounds and personalities of the men, while also highlighting their essential sameness.

Symbolism and recurring motifs

The omnipresence of mud, rain, and filth becomes a symbol of the war's dehumanizing effects, the erasure of boundaries between man and animal, life and death. The recurring images of burdens—physical, emotional, and moral—underscore the weight of suffering and the impossibility of escape. The motif of the "doorway" recurs as both a literal and metaphorical threshold between life and death, past and present, hope and despair.

Foreshadowing and irony

The narrative is suffused with a sense of impending disaster, as moments of rest or happiness are always shadowed by the knowledge that they will end. The men's dreams of home, peace, or escape are repeatedly undercut by the realities of war. Irony pervades the text, from the "good wound" that saves a man to the execution of a deserter for the crime of fear. The ultimate irony is that the war, which was supposed to bring glory and meaning, brings only suffering and loss.

Direct address and meta-narrative

The narrator frequently reflects on the difficulty of representing war, the inadequacy of language, and the impossibility of conveying the full truth to those who have not experienced it. The novel is self-conscious about its own limitations, inviting the reader to question the narratives of heroism, patriotism, and sacrifice that dominate official accounts of the war.

Analysis

Under Fire is a pioneering work of antiwar literature, notable for its unflinching realism, its rejection of heroism, and its focus on the collective experience of ordinary soldiers. Barbusse's novel strips away the myths of glory and patriotism, exposing the war as a machine that grinds men into mud, erases individuality, and perpetuates suffering for the benefit of the few. The episodic structure, shifting perspectives, and vivid detail immerse the reader in the sensory and psychological reality of the trenches, while the recurring motifs of mud, water, and burdens underscore the war's relentless assault on body and spirit. The novel's final chapters, in which the survivors reflect on the meaning of their suffering and dream of a world without war, are both a protest and a plea: that the sacrifices of the common soldier not be in vain, that the lessons of their suffering lead to a more just and humane world. In its modern context, Under Fire remains a powerful reminder of the costs of war, the dangers of dehumanization, and the enduring hope for peace and equality.

Last updated: November 15, 2025