During the First World War, Winston Churchill had the opportunity to observe at close quarters the man to whom France turned in her most desperate hour. He subsequently wrote a sketch of Georges Clemenceau published in his book Great Contemporaries. Here follow extracts.
Many of the French generals were discredited, and all their plans had failed. Widespread mutinies had been with difficulty suppressed at the front. Profound and tortuous intrigues gripped Paris. Britain had bled herself white at Paschendaele, the Russians had collapsed, the Italians were at the last gasp, and the Americans were far away. The giant enemy towered up, brazen, and so far as we could see, invulnerable. It was at this moment, after every other conceivable combination had been tried, that the fierce old man was summoned to what was in fact the Dictatorship of France. He returned to power as Marius had returned to Rome; doubted by many, dreaded by all, but doom-sent, inevitable.
It was at this time that I first began to know him. I had met him several times before, but only in a casual way. My work as Minister of Munitions brought me frequently to Paris, and involved me constantly
