I was living in N’djamena, Tchad and there was a restaurant called Le Central on the main boulevard that officers from the Legion used to frequent. I was sittin

I was living in N’djamena, Tchad and there was a restaurant called Le Central on the main boulevard that officers from the Legion used to frequent. I was sitting at a nearby table finishing my bottle of Gala beer when they started to sing. I can’t remember the exact words, but it was one of the saddest laments that I have ever heard, essentially refraining that “I will die and you will never know my name. I fight, not for France, but for my brothers in the Legion.” They had no romantic illusions about their service.