Flight to Arras

Table of Contents

Title Page

Table of Contents

Copyright

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

XIV

XV

XVI

XVII

XVIII

XIX

XX

XXI

XXII

XXIII

XXIV

About the Author

Copyright © 1942 by Harcourt, Inc
English translation copyright © 1986 by Harcourt, Inc
Introduction copyright © 1986 by Anne Morrow Lindbergh

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The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Saint Exupéry, Antoine de, 1900–1944,
Flight to Arras
Translation of Pilote de guerre
Reprint Originally published New York
Harcourt, Inc., c1942
1 Saint-Exupéry, Antoine de, 1900–1944—Biography. 2 Authors, French—20th century—Biography 3 Air pilots, Military—France—Biography, 4 World War, 1939–1945—Aerial operations, French 5 World War, 1939–1945—Personal narratives, French
I Title
PQ2637 A2747.47313 1985 848' 91209[B] 82 22524
ISBN 0-15 631880 6

eISBN 978-0-547-53960-7
v2.0113

I

Surely I must be dreaming. It is as if I were fifteen again. I am back at school. My mind is on my geometry problem. Leaning over the worn black desk, I work away dutifully with compass and ruler and protractor. I am quiet and industrious.

Near by sit some of my schoolmates, talking in murmurs. One of them stands at a blackboard chalking up figures. Others less studious are playing bridge. Out-of-doors I see the branch of a tree swaying in the breeze. I drop my work and stare at it. From an industrious pupil I have become an idle one. The shining sun fills me with peace. I inhale with delight the childhood odor of the wooden desk, the chalk, the blackboard in this schoolhouse in which we are quartered. I revel in the sense of security born of this daydream of a sheltered childhood.

What course life takes, we all know. We are children, we are sent to school, we make friends, we go to college—and we are graduated. Some sort of diploma is handed to us, and our hearts pound as we are ushered across a certain threshold, marched through a certain porch, the other side of which we are of a sudden grown men. Now our footfalls strike the ground with a new assurance. We have begun to make our way in life, to take the first few steps of our way in life. We are about to measure our strength against real adversaries. The ruler, the T square, the compass have become weapons with which we shall build a world, triumph over an enemy. Playtime is over.

All this I see as I stare at the swaying branch. And I see too that schoolboys have no fear of facing life. They champ at the bit. The jealousies, the trials, the sorrows of the life of man do not intimidate the schoolboy.

But what a strange schoolboy I am! I sit in this schoolroom, a schoolboy conscious of my good fortune and in no hurry to face life. A schoolboy aware of its cares....

Dutertre comes by, and I stop him.

“Sit down. I’ll do some card-tricks for you.”

Dutertre sits facing me on a desk as worn as mine. I can see his dangling legs as he shuffles the cards. How pleased with myself I am when I pick out the card he has in mind! He laughs.