THE OUTPOSTS

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 170, 8 April 1918, Page 6

THE OUTPOSTS

9 AMERICAN SOLDIERS IN FRANCE BRITISH IMPRESSIONS (By a British Officer at the Front, in the "Daily News.") Our meeting was in a French chateau—a very old chateau, full of gusts of wind and ghosts and labrynthe passages. My billet in this chateau was a windy attic, lighted by a gloomy oil lamp, and furnished with three rough bedsteads made of timber and, wire netting and canvas. I myself occupied one or these obstacles to sleep, and had been warned that the empty ones might be occupied at any time. Ten hours struck on the chateau bell; and suddenly my door opened, and two strange soldiers, wearing a curious American cut of khaki, bumped in with a couple of cabin trunks, which they let fall heavily on the floor. I said to myself: ''These trunks are good for a brigadier or divisional general. They are office equipment for a big show." The figures in the Yankee cut of khaki withdrew, and presently came back bearing two more cabin trunks and a couple of black leather brief hags. These like the first, fell heavily and bumped aggressively, and, with the .brief bags, made a respectable rampart beside my bed. I said to myself,: "This is an invasion by a corps headquarters or an army." But there was more to come. The soldier figures went out, and back they came, staggering along with two enormous valises, straining at the straps and bulging in every quarter. They were the kind of yalises one had seen meandering along in back areas, and claiming close aoquamtancc with area commandants and R.T.O.'s. It made a very decent sized dump in my room. I sat up in bed and looked st it. I told myself that the trunks contained the secret documents of vast operations pending, and that black brief bags were full of operation orders ahout to he issued. I said: "This thins lias got a move on, and H.Q. is travelling light. This is now a war of movement aud speed, or corps chasseurs, of cavalry and 30-knot taJiks, of fleetfooted generals"" .and little impedimenta." f The Advanoe Cuard. And just then the door creaked open, and two pleasant-faced young men in khaki, and wearing wide-awake hats with gold and black cord twined around, them, put their heads in, looked round, bade mo a pleasant good evening, looked at the pile of boxes, said they supposed this was where they were coming in, and expected, and were quite prepared to put up with, hardships; and rapidly took possession. This, then, was the American Army come to stay. These young gentleman had travelled from the other side of the Atlantic to help out the Allies, and with them bad come their belongings packed in trunks. Thinking, of course, of the limited number of beds, I said: "How many are there of you?'] "I guess there are only two coming in here," one replied. That seemed good enough, and I said to myself: "This army has got some transportation. If a couple of lieutenants carry this lot, what must an army carry?" . I don't regret their coming. They were nice Americans. They asked a lot of questions, and in doing so skinned me of my knowledge of the Western front. And from those trunks they produced pieces of equipment which made me, envious—automatic revolvers, marked with a large U.S.A., and ammunition; glasses, boots, leggings, coats, hats, mess-tins, waterbottles, spare tunics, flash-lamps — everything, in fact, which makes our own officers when on the move look like Christmas trees. These young officers were even more the complete officer than w'e profess to be; but all their decorative effects were stowed and locked away in trunks. And, looking at the proposition fairly and squarely, I began to like those trunks. They reminded one of one's family going for a holiday. They contained so much that might bo useful. "Democratic Discipline." We settled down to work together. These American officers are of the stamp of the Canadian and Australian officer—keen, alert, good shots, and eudowed with what they themselves call "democratic discipline." One saw this discipline at work. "You fellows haven't got much of a place to shake down in," one of their servants told me the morning :>fter he had dumped his master's kit in my room; aud 1 don't think I felt any resentment at being called a fellow. What I did feel was that he hadn't much use for officers who couldn't find better accommodation than an attic. And, maybe, he was justified. These officers had that inevitable eagerness to hear the guns and see the inside of warfare which one finds in newly-arrived British officers. And there is the same kind of speculating aud guessing as to what is going to happen, when it will happen, and the chalices of an early' "Mighty." But there is something more. These American officers have definite views on the war. One of them told me that he expected to find the British and French armies somewhat lagged and worn after their long struggle. What he had found'was just the reverse. The British Army made him blink: it was so highly polished and extraordinarily smart, slick, alert, and full of "swank." Ho expected to find low morale, instead of which he finds it high. Personally I think these officers had come to criticise; but ihey remain to admire in amaze. And all this discovery leads to a certain shyness—something which is new to. Yankee temperament. 'My two friends of the heavy baggage seemed to regard ine as an expert in this war game, and an expert who bad to be treated with respect. Consciously or unconsciously, they gave me an ascendancy over them. I was the warrior, they the tyros coming on to the fiold of experience. ?one day, in a chaffing remark, I compared their lordly trunks and my little bundle of belongings; and thereafter the trunks seemed to call for constant apologies. I couldn't help watching their progress, as one watches a schoolboy growing up, and treating them as juniors, whose only misfortune was they had been late in coming into the field.