When the glorious France of 68 ruled the old Five Nations
Brendan Gallagher recalls the times rugby exploded in France with the 1968 Grand Slam
FRENCH Society was on the move 50 years ago with a volatile year of nationwide strikes, riots and student unrest and amid all that fervour, passion and energy the French rugby team was making some noise of its own. For Les Blues it was also a bewildering year of change and ferment but amid the chaos they did land their first Grand Slam and those still alive will be celebrating that fact with a reunion in Paris next month.
The class of 68 ticked just about every preconceived notion we have of French rugby. They produced rugby from the gods when in the mood but were equally at home adopting trench warfare tactics and kicking a barrage of pragmatic dropped goals when necessary.
Beauty and the beast. Villainous looking forwards well versed in the dark arts and glamorous boy band pin ups in the backs which the French media doted over. Forwards and backs smoked like troopers and seemed to have Bridget Bardot lookalike girlfriends dancing constant attendance. Meanwhile the selectors had regular brainstorms although even they couldn’t derail their team 50 winters ago.
It was a big moment in French sport. France’s 1968 Grand Slam was when rugby truly nudged its way ahead of football in France’s national consciousness, a position it just about maintained for three decades before France hosted and won the 1998 Football World Cup. Since then rugby has been firmly relegated to second place and you suspect that only a Rugby World Cup win in Japan, or back in France in 2023, will ever see the batting order reversed
The Slam didn’t come from nowhere; indeed France had been building towards it since they first entered the Championship in 1910.
The France honours board was entirely bare until 1954 when they shared their first Five Nations title with England and Wales. Three more shared titles followed in 1955, 1959 and 1960 before their first outright Championships in 1961, 1962 and 1967. They were remorselessly flexing their mighty muscles and the 1968 Championship was when they finally delivered Le Grand Chelem.
There were some might rugby brains driving the Class of 68 from the skipper Christian Carrere, to the off the field inspiration Jean Prat who was their coach and manager at a time when the game still didn’t really acknowledge the existence of either. Prat – Monsieur Le Rugby – had captained those Championship-sharing teams of 54 and 55 from flanker, scored a winning try against the All Blacks and, as well as nine Test tries, had five dropped goal to his credit. But he wasn’t going to depart the scene until a Slam had been secured.
France should probably have completed the clean sweep 12 months earlier, but a shock home defeat to Scotland first up at Stade Colombes scuppered that although they recovered to win the title. Not good enough. French rugby now needed glory and immortality, not just titles. Prior to the World Cup only Grand Slams and perhaps a win over New Zealand could offer that.
Twelve months on they were hungry to achieve and, as usual, warmed up with their traditional FIRA game against Romania just before Christmas to tee them up for the start of the Five Nations.
Romania were a very decent side, in fact during the 60s they won three and drew two of these traditional Christmas games against the French. They offered up a major hit-out on the eve of the Five Nations which used to start in mid-January back then and in 1968 they again made France huff and puff in Nantes before going down 11-3.
All of which was excellent preparation for their opening game at Murrayfield where their experienced pack – Walter Spanghero and Elie Cester to the fore – ground out an 8-6 victory over Scotland in a game played in a near gale.
Wings Bernard Duprat and Andre Campaes scored a try apiece, Hamish Keith bagged one for Scotland and that just about concluded the entertainment. The Camberabero brothers Guy and Lilian – who never lost when playing together for France – kept an iron grip on the game at half-back with their kicking and Scotland couldn’t really raise a head of steam.
The diminutive Camberaberos divided French rugby like few others. Born in the sunny south west at Saint Vincent de Tyrosse a couple of miles inland from the huge surf beaches of Hossegor, they could look like dancing, prancing mavericks with their show pony white ankle socks. But the reality is that after the family moved to La Voulte sur Rhone near Valence – cold and muddy throughout the winter– they learned to become, first and foremost, kicking pragmatists.
Guy kicked eleven dropped goals in his 14 Tests, a ratio which surpasses even Jonny Wilkinson and Naas Botha. They came as a job lot and collectively were known as Les Lutins de la Volte – the leprachauns or pixies of La Volte.
They did the job in Scotland but there were rumblings in the Press, an outstanding France side hadn’t played much rugby. So, the selectors dropped the brothers – two of five changes they made in total – for the visit of Ireland. Jean Henri Mir came in at scrum-half and was teamed at half-back with his Lourdes colleague, the dashing Jean Gachassin whose name Bill McLaren pronounced with particular relish.
Against a strong Irish team, France produced a quality all-round performance to win 16-6 with another try from Campeas while big Benoit Duaga weighed in with a second and the elegant Pierre Villepreux – another player to be called up – added ten points with his big boot.
Everything seemed calm in the French camp, two out of two with a home match next up against an England team who managed two draws in their opening games. But there was a full month between France’s second and third matches which is a lifetime in French rugby.The selectors had time on their hands which is always a
dangerous situation in any sport.
And it was a time of heightened emotions. Not only were there political undercurrents around the place – people questioning everything all the time – but France was also hosting the 1968 Winter Olympics which started in Grenoble a few days after France’s win over Ireland. Jean Claude Killy was to light the place up with his three Alpine skiing gold medals for France,
The south east of France, including La Voulte, was en fete and for reasons nobody can readily recall a celebratory match had been arranged between the south east region and France to help celebrate the Olympics.
Perhaps even then there were thoughts that rugby should be included in the winter Olympics – not the daftest idea by any means – and a gala game could help press that argument, but more likely the French selectors simply wanted to keep their team on the boil during that fallow month. Whatever the case the south east region – full of the Olympian spirit – proved to be higher, faster and stronger and beat France 11-9. Awkward.
The selectors convened a week before the England game and, despite a Five Nations campaign that was seemingly on track and without alarm, made nine changes from the
“The class of 68 ticked every preconceived notion we have of French rugby. They produced rugby from the gods but also adopted trench warfare tactics”
side that had put Ireland away comfortably. The headline choices were the recall of the Camberabero brothers and the introduction of a completely new front row. Oh la la.
Perhaps there was a degree of method in their madness. A first ever Grand Slam was hoving into sight and perhaps now was the time to rein in a little and get the job done. That would explain the reintroduction of the Camberaberos although the other seven changes take some explaining away.
England really ‘turned up’ and France found themselves in a dogfight before prevailing 14-9 in front of capacity crowd at the Stade Colombes which had rarely been full to brimming despite some good post-war years for France. Youtube shows us that Northampton – and soon to be Lions wing – Keith Savage had a perfectly good try disallowed that might have made for an even closer game and eventually it was a dropped goal apiece from Lilian Camberabero and full-back Christophe Lacaze that made the difference.
Onwards to Cardiff for Le Crunch on a cabbage path of a pitch and a strong but not yet vintage Welsh team captained, for the second time, by Gareth Edwards. More of the same was surely required by France but France couldn’t stop tinkering and made three changes, bringing in an entirely new centre partnership in Claude Dourthe and Jo Maso while a new No 8, Michel Greffe, was called up.
At 9-3 down at half-time it wasn’t looking so , but with tries from Lilian Camberabero and skipper Carrere and eight points from Guy Camberabero including a mandatory dropped goal got France over the line.
Cue three days of partying and a reception with President Pompidou. French rugby finally ruled the roost. It was an odd triumph though. Just three players – skipper and flanker Christian Carrere, back five hardman Walter Spanghero and wing Andre Campeas – played in all four games. The team was in a constant state of flux and upheaval, rather like the country itself. In contrast the next time France landed a Slam – in 1977 – all 15 players payed in all four games.
And sport is fickle, especially French rugby. In retrospect we can see 1968 was a team enjoying their last hurrah. That summer Les Blues travelled down south and got their backsides kicked, losing the series against New Zealand 3-0 and coming off second best against Australia in Sydney. Back home they then lost twice on the bounce against South Africa and the final straw came one bitter December afternoon in Bucharest when they lost 15-14 to Romania. 1968 had been a bewildering year of change and ferment on and off the pitch.