Between the Wars: Theory and Family
The 1920s found Captain de Gaulle at a crossroads. The army was shrinking, promotion was slow, and France was turning away from military concerns. Many officers left for civilian careers, but de Gaulle persevered, driven by an almost mystical sense of destiny. "I have always had a certain idea of France," he would later write, and that idea demanded his continued service.
In 1921, he married Yvonne Vendroux, daughter of a biscuit manufacturer from Calais. Their courtship had been proper and brief—de Gaulle was not one for extended romantic dalliances. Yvonne, devout and traditional, seemed an ideal match for the serious officer. Their marriage would produce three children and provide de Gaulle with the emotional stability that allowed him to pursue his ambitious goals.
The Polish Interlude
An unexpected opportunity came in 1919 when de Gaulle was selected for a military mission to Poland, which was fighting for its survival against Bolshevik Russia. For two years, he served as an instructor to Polish forces, witnessing firsthand the war of movement that seemed to vindicate his developing theories about mobile warfare.
The Polish experience was formative. He saw how cavalry charges—Poland's traditional strength—were mowed down by machine guns, but also how rapid movement and surprise could still achieve decisive results. He developed a deep respect for Polish courage and a lasting friendship with Poland that would influence his policies during World War II.
Letters home during this period reveal a man growing in confidence and vision. To Yvonne, he wrote of his certainty that France would face Germany again and must prepare differently. To military colleagues, he began articulating ideas that would later appear in his revolutionary writings on armored warfare.
The Pétain Years
Returning from Poland in 1921, de Gaulle found a patron in his old commander, now Marshal Pétain. For several years, de Gaulle served on Pétain's staff, ghost-writing speeches and articles for the hero of Verdun. It was a complex relationship—part mentor-student, part father-son, part intellectual collaboration.
Working for Pétain gave de Gaulle access to the highest levels of military thinking and planning. He attended war college, graduating with distinction, and began publishing articles in military journals. His writing attracted attention for its clarity and originality, but also criticism for its implicit challenge to accepted doctrine.
The relationship with Pétain began to sour over a book project. Pétain had asked de Gaulle to write a history of the French soldier, but when de Gaulle produced a philosophical meditation on military leadership, Pétain wanted extensive changes. De Gaulle, showing the stubbornness that would characterize his later career, refused. The book would eventually be published as "Le Fil de l'épée" (The Edge of the Sword), but the rupture with Pétain was never fully healed.
Family Life and Personal Tragedy
The de Gaulle household in the 1920s and early 1930s presented a picture of bourgeois respectability. They lived modestly on Charles's military salary, with Yvonne managing the household with quiet efficiency. Their first child, Philippe, was born in 1921, followed by Élisabeth in 1924.
Their third child, Anne, born in 1928, was diagnosed with Down syndrome. In an era when such children were often institutionalized, the de Gaulles kept Anne at home, surrounding her with love and care. Charles, the stern soldier, would spend hours playing with Anne, singing to her, carrying her in his arms when she could not walk. "She is my joy," he told a friend. "She helps me to look beyond all human things."
Anne's condition brought out a tenderness in de Gaulle that few outside his family ever saw. It also deepened his Catholic faith and his sense of human vulnerability. Friends noted that after Anne's birth, his writing showed greater empathy and understanding of human weakness. The experience of raising a child with special needs in a society that offered little support gave both Charles and Yvonne a perspective on suffering that would serve them well in the trials ahead.
The Prophet of Armored Warfare
Throughout the 1930s, de Gaulle emerged as France's most prominent advocate for military modernization. His book "Vers l'armée de métier" (Toward a Professional Army), published in 1934, called for a small, professional, highly mechanized force built around armored divisions. This directly challenged the prevailing doctrine of the mass conscript army hiding behind the Maginot Line.
De Gaulle's ideas were not original—similar concepts were being developed in Britain by B.H. Liddell Hart and J.F.C. Fuller, and in Germany by Heinz Guderian. What was remarkable was de Gaulle's synthesis and his persistent advocacy in the face of institutional resistance. He argued that future war would be a war of movement, that defensive strategies were ultimately doomed, and that France needed to prepare for offensive operations using combined arms tactics.
The military establishment largely rejected his ideas. They were too expensive, critics said, too radical, too German. A professional army smacked of militarism, antithetical to republican values. The Maginot Line had cost billions; surely it would hold. De Gaulle was branded a troublemaker, his promotion to lieutenant colonel delayed, his ideas marginalized.
But de Gaulle found an unexpected ally in Paul Reynaud, an ambitious politician who saw in these military theories a way to differentiate himself. Through Reynaud, de Gaulle's ideas reached a broader audience, though they remained minority views. Ironically, while French generals dismissed de Gaulle's theories, German officers studied them carefully. Guderian would later claim that he had learned much from the French colonel's writings.