More Majorum (“After the manner of (our) ancestors”) is one of the Foreign Legion motto. I did not serve with the legion. I was “regular” French army. But I always liked the meaning that it carries.

My military calling was shaped by soldiers coming before me, and some who served along me. This post is not really a story, but a way to share with you some of them.

It started with my own father. He did his military service in the Belgian army as a medic because at the time he was attending seminary in Belgium and future priests, rabbis and pastors (imams were not part of it yet) were not suppose to bear arms and were given first aid training and posted as orderlies in military hospitals. He always remembered fondly his service (maybe because after that he had to quit seminary and redefine his life… glad he did it because I’m here) and gave me a taste for the military domain.

The one who followed was Joe. Joe was in the British signal corp in World War II. He landed in Normandy around July 1944 and, passing through the North of France got lodged at my maternal grand-mother’s home. She was only 12 at the time and he got on his way towards Holland and then Germany after 2 weeks. But around 8 years later, my grandma was an au pair in England, to learn English, and ran into him. They stayed friend until he died in 2002. In 2000, he came back to France to walk back his World War 2 path. He knew I was interested in military history and bought me a comic telling the Normandy landing and draw his path on the map (here's a photo). My parents are still friends with his children. The way he was talking about his service with humility showed me what it is to be a soldier.

Then there is my great uncle (my aforementioned grandmother’s brother). Growing up, I vaguely knew he used to be a fighter pilot. Every year, we had a big family reunion around the end of August. One year, he took a chair, sat down and had all the kids of my generation gather around him. And he started telling. How he did not accept the defeat in 1940. How as soon as he was 18 he packed a bag and went over the Pyrenees and through a Spanish prisoner camp to join the Free French Forces and become a pilot. He flew over North Africa and Europe, then deployed to Indochina and later Algeria. He ended his career a Colonel and went to the Private Sector. His son followed him in the French Air Force and was the one who presented me with my officer sword during OCS. His adventures got me the will to join and create my own.

Finally, there’s Guillaume. We went through the Infantry Platoon leader course together and served in the same regiment. He’s from La Réunion. I always admired the French from overseas who joined. When I could get back to family every weekend, they had to save up to go back home for special occasions. But at the same time, they built great communities within the Regiment, a home away from home. Guillaume was the officer anyone would want to be or serve under. Strict but fair, into sport but happy with a book as well. He did me the honor of being best man at my wedding. He got out of the army after transferring command of his company and went back to La Réunion, but we call and text often. He showed me what it was to be an officer and a gentleman.

I’m lucky I crossed path with them.

How about you, who’s your More Majorum ?