he strong, stern, thoughtful face of the man who had
come with his legions to assist France in the great hour of need. They
talked to each other about the inflexibility of his character, about the
massive jaw which, they said, would bite off Germany's head. They
cheered in the English manner, with a "Heep! heep! hooray!"--when
they caught sight for the first time of the khaki uniforms of English
officers on the steps of the Ministry of War. The arrival of English
troops here was red wine to the hearts of the French people. It
seemed to them the great guarantee of victory. "With England
marching side by side with us," they said, "we shall soon be in Berlin!"

14

A train-load of Royal Engineers came into one of the stations where I
happened to be waiting (my memory of those days is filled with weary
hours on station platforms). It was the first time I was able to talk to
British Tommies in France, and to shake their hands, and to shout
out "Good luck!" to them. It was curious how strong my emotion was
at seeing those laughing fellows and hearing the cockney accent of
their tongues. They looked so fine and clean. Some of them were
making their toilet in the cattle trucks brushing their hair as though for,
a picnic party, shaving before little mirrors tacked up on the planks.
Others, crowding at the open doorways of the trucks, shouted with
laughter at the French soldiers and peasants, who grabbed at their
hands and jabbered enthusiastic words of welcome.

"Funny lingo, Bill!" said one of the men. "Can't make out a bit of it. But
they mean well, I guess!"

It was impossible to doubt that they meant well, these soldiers of
France greeting their comrades of England. One man behaved like a
buffoon, or as though he had lost his wits. Grasping the hand of a
young engineer he danced round him, shouting "Camarade!
camarade!" in a joyous sing-song which was ridiculous, and yet
touching in its simplicity and faith. It was no wonder, I thought, that the
French people believed in victory now that the British had come. A
Jingo pride took possession of me. These Tommies of ours were the
finest soldiers in the world! They went to war with glad hearts. They
didn't care a damn for old Von Kluck and all his hordes. They would
fight like heroes, these clean-limbed chaps, who looked upon war as
a great game. Further along the train my two friends, the Philosopher
and the Strategist, were in deep conversation with different groups. I