A GLIMPSE OF THE FRENCH LINE.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 5, Issue 205, 1 September 1916, Page 1 (Supplement)

A GLIMPSE OF THE FRENCH LINE.

By SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE, in the London "Daily Chronicle." Tho French sold : ers are grand. They are grand. There is no other word to express it. It is not merely their bravery. All races have shown bravery in this war. But it is their solidity tlie'r patience, their nobility. I could not conceive anything finer than the. hearing of their officers. It is proud without being fierce, serious without t'Oing depressed. Such, too, are the men whom they lend with such sk' ll and devotion. Under the frightful hammer-blows of circumstance, the national characters seem to have been reversed. It is our British soldier who has become debonair, light-hearted, and reckless, wh'lc the Frenchman lias developed a solemn solidity and dour patience which one* was all our own. During n long clay in the French trenches, I have never once heard the sound of music or laughter, nor have T once seen a face that was not full of the most grim determination. Germany set out to bleed France wh'te. Well, she has done so. France is full of widows and orphans from end to cud. Perhaps in proportion to her population she has suffered the most uf all. But in carrying out her hdlish mission Germany lias bled herself white also. Her heavy sword has done its work, but the keen French rapier has not lost its skill. France will stand at last, weak and tottoi'.'ng, frith her huge enemy dead at her feet. But it is a fearsome business to sec —such a business as the world never looked upon before. It is fearful for the French. It is fearful for the Germans. May God's curse rest upon the arrogant men and tho unholy amVtions which let j loose this horror upon humanity ! See- j ing what they have done, and know- i ?ng that they 'have done jt, one would j think that mortal brain would go t crazy under the weight. Perhaps the [ central brain of all was crazy from the j first. But what sort of government is .' it under wlr'eh one crazy brain can j wreck mankind! If ever one wanders into the high ! places of mankind, the places whence the guidance should come, it seems to mo that ("tie has to recall the dying words of the Swedish Chancellor who . docfeired that the folly of those who governed was what had amazed him : ino>t in b : s exper'ence of life. Yester- j day I met one of those men of power— ! SI. C'eineiiceaii. once Prime Minister now the destroyer of governments. He ■ •is by nature a destroyer, incapable of rebuilding what he has pulled down. With hjs personal force, his eloquence. Ins thunderng vo : ce, his hitter pen, he ■ could wreck any policy, but would not even trouble to suggest an alternative i Ashe sat before me with his face of an ' old prizefighter (he is remarkably like Jim Mace as I c in r. member him in bis later days). Irs aug>v grey eyes and lis truculent, mischievous smile, he -eemed to me a very dangerous man. I Fis < iiii vi ivit : . m. if a squirt on one -if! > and Niagara on the other can be called c iiversat'i'ii wis directed for the momem upon the iniquity of the English rate of ex ■hange, which seemed to men

very much like railing against the barometer. My companion, who has forgotten more economics than ever Clemenceau knew, was about to ask whether France was prepared to take the rouble at face value, but the roaring voice, like a strong gramophone with a blunt needle, submerged all argument. Wo have our dangerous men, but we have no one in the same class as Clemenceau. Such men enrage the people who know them, alarm the people who don't, set everyone by the ears, act as a health? irritant in days of peace, and are a public danger in clays of war. IjfWMW**. * #"-v}i * •<.v : -» * - • ■—- But this is digression. I had set out to say something of a day's experience of the French front, though I shall write with a fuller pen when I return from the Argonne. Jt was for Soissons that we made, passing on the way a part of the scene of our own early operations, including the battlefield of Yilliers Cotteret—just such a wood as i had imagined. My companion's nephew was one of those Guards' officers whose bodies rest now in the village cemetery with a little British Jack still flying above them . They lie together/and the'r grave is tenaed wjth pious care. Among the trees beside the road were other graves of soldiers, buried where they had fallen. "So look around—and choose your ground—and take your rest." Soissons is a considerable wreci. though it is very far from being an lpres. But the cathedral would, and will, make many a patriotic Frenchman weep. These savages cannot keep their bands off a beautiful church. Here, ab. solutely unchanged through the ages, was the spot wher c St. Louis had dedicated himself to the Crusade Every stone of it was holy And now the lovely old stained glass strews floor, and the roof lies in a huge heap across thcentral aisle. A dog was climbing over it as we entered. No wonder the French fight well. Such sights would drive the nr.ldest man to desperation. The Abbe a good priest, with a large, humorous face, took us over his shattered domain. He was full of reminiscences of the German occupation of the place. One of his personal anecdotes was indeed marvelous. It was that a ladv in the local ambulance had vowed To kiss the first •trench soldier who re-entered the town. She did so, and it proved to be her husband. The Abbe is a good kind, truthful man—but he has a humorous face. A walk down a ruined street brings one to the opening c(F ihe trenche's. 1 here are marks upon the walls of the German occupation. "Berlin—Pans " with an arrow of direction, adorns one corner. At another the 7Gth Regiment has commemorated the fact that it was there in 1.570 and again in 1914 \\ the Soissons folk are wise thev will keep these inscriptions as a reminder to the rising generat'on. I can imagine however, that their inclination will be to whitewash, fumigate, amf forget. A sudden turn among some broken walls takes one into the communication cl, ~ ( i. lu ' Snide is a Commandant ot the Staff, a tall, thin man with hard grey eyes and a severe face. It is the more severe towards us as I gather that ue has been deluded into the bel'ef that about one out of six'of our soldiers "o PS to the trenches. For the moment he is not friends with the English. As we go along, however, we gradually get upon better terms, we discover a'twinkle in the hard, grey eyes, and the day ends wth a exchange of walking-sticks and a renewal of the Entente. May my cane grow into a marshal's baton.

A charming young artillery subaltern :s our guide in that maze of trenches, and we walk and walk, with a brisk exchange of compliments between the "75's" of the French and the "77's" of the Germans going on h'gh over our heads. The trenches are' boarded at the sides, and have a more permanent look than those of Flanders. Presently we meet a fine, brown-faced, upstanding boy, as keen as a razor, who commands this particular section. A little further on a helmetcd captain of infantry, who is an expert sn : pcr, joins our little party. Now we are at the. very front trench. I had expected to sec primeval men, bearded and shaggy. But the "PoMus" have disappeared. 'J he men wore clean and dapper to a remarkable degree. I gathered, however, that they had their internal difficulties. On one board I read an old inscription, "He is a Boche, but he :s the inseparable companion of the French soldier.'' Above was a rude drawing of a louse. I lam led to a ctinn : ng loop-hole, and | have a glimpse through it of a little j framed pictture of French country-side. I There are fields, a road, a sloping hill I beyond, with trees. Quite close, about I 30 or 40 yards away, was a low, red- ! tiled house,, "They arc there,'' said I our guide. "'That is thoir outpost. \Vo can hear them cough." Only the guns 1 were coughing tliat morning, so we heard nothing, but it was certainly wonderful to be so near to the enemy and yet in such pear:?. I suppose wondering visitors from iieriin are brought up also to hear the French cough. Modern warfare has certainly some extraord:nary sides. Now we are shown all the devices which a year of experience has suggested to the quick brains of our Allies. It is ground upon which one cannot talk with freedom. Every form of bomb. catapult, and crenrlr mortar was ready to hand. Every method of cross-nre had been thought out to an exact degree. There was something, however, about the disposition of a machine-gun which d : sturbed the Commandant. He called for the officer of the gun "His thin lips got thinner and his grey eyes more austere as we wa ted. Presently there emerged an extraordinarily handsome youth, dark as a Spaniard, from some rabbit-hole, lie faced the Commandant bravely, and answered back with respect but firmness. "Pourquoi?" asked the Commandant, and yet again ■Pouif|UO : ?" Adonis had an answer for everything. Roth sides appealed to the big Captain of Snipers, who was I clearlv embarrassed. He stood on on? j log and scratched his ch'n. Finally the Commandant turned away angrily i;i the midst of one of Adonis' voluab'e i sentences. His face showed that tlu- | matter was not ended. War is taken very ser'ously in the French army, and finy sort of profossicjnif! mistake is very quickly punished. I have be< n told how many officers of h'gh rank have been broken by the French during the war. The figure was a very high <me. There is no more forgiveness or the beaten Oenertl than there was in the i];iys of the Republic when the delegate r.:' •.:••■ National Convention, with a patent pori ible guillotine, used to drop m at he.idqitartpts to support n sore viitoroii"" offensive

As I write these linos there is .t burst of bugles in the street, and I go to my open wndow to see the 41st of the Line inarch down into what may develop into a considerable battle. How I wish they could march down the Strand even as they are. How. London would rise to them! Laden like donkeys, with a pile ujion their backs, and very often both hands full as well, they still get a swing jnto their march, wlrch it is good to see.They march >n column of platoons, and the procession is a long one. for a French regiment us. of course, equal to three battalions. The men are shortish, very tlyok. burned brown in the sun, with never a snr'le among them—have I not said that they are going down to a grim sector?—but with faces of granite. There was a time when we talked ot stiffening the French army. lam prepared to believe that our first expedl tionary force was capable of stiffening any conscript army, for I do not think that a finer force ever went into battle. But to talk about stiffening these people now would be ludicrous. You might as well stiffen the Old Guard .There may be weak regiments somewhere, but I have never seen them. 1 think that an injustice has been clone to the French army by the insistence of artists and cinema operatoi« upon the picturesque Colonial corps One gets an idea that the Arabs and negroes are pulling France out of the fire. It js absolutely false. Her own brave sons are doing the work. The Colonials arc good men, but, like ouown splendid Highlanders they catch the eye in a way that is sometimes a Ittle hard upon their neighbours. When there is hard work to be done it is the good little French piou-piou who usually has to do it. There is no better man in Europe. If we are as good—and I believe wc are—it is sometlrmr to be proud of. '*" • • • • But I have wandered far from thetrenches of Soissons. It had come on to ram heavily, and we were forced to take refuge in the dug-out of the sniper. JSight of us sat in the deep gloom huddled closely together. The Commandant was still harping upon that ill-placed machine-gun. He couJd not get over it. My imperfect car for rrench could n* follow all his complaints, but »mc defence of the offender brought forth a -'Jamais! Jamas' Jamais!' which was rapped out as if t came irom the gun itself. There were eight of us in an underground burrow and .some were smoking. Better a deluge than such an atmosphere as that But if there is a thing upon earth winch the French officer shies at it ■= rain and mud The reason i*that he -s extraordinarily natty in his person. His charming blue uniform, his facings h:s brown gaiters, boots and belts are always just as smart as paint. Ho s the dandy of the European war » "oticed officers in the trenches with their trousers carefully pressed. It m all to the good, I think. Wellington said that the dandies made the best officers. It is diffiuclt for the men to get rattled or despondent when thev sea the debonair appearance of tbeV officers. Among the many neat little mark* upon the French uniforms which indicate with precision but without obtrus ion the rank and arm of the wearer, there was one which puzzled me. It was to !*e found on the left sleeve of men or all ranks, from generals to privates ,and it cons sted of small golden chevrons, one, two, or more. No ruleseemed to regulate them, for the Genoral might have none, and I have heard of the private who wore ten. Then I solved the mystery. They are the record of wounds rece'ved. What an admirable idea! Surely wc should Hasten to introduce it among our own tidier*. It costs but little, and it means much. If you can allay the smart of a wound by the knowledge that it brings lastng honour to the man among ha iellows, then surely it should be done, .Medals, too, are more freely distri'mt id and with more public parade than in our service. lam convinced that the effect is good. The ram has now stopped, and .ve climb from our burrow. Again wc are led down that endless I'n.e of communication trench, again we stumble through the ruins, again we emerge into the street where our cars await us. Above our heads the shar,> artillery duel is going merrily forward. 'Flip French are tiring three or four to one, which has been my experience at every point I have touched upon th» Allied front. Thanks to the extraordinary zeal of the French workers. especially of the French wom/m. and to the clever adaptation of machinery by the r engineers, their supplies arc abundant. Even now they turn out more shells a day than we do. That however, excludes our supply for the fleet. But it is one of the miracles of the Avar tha,t the French, with' their coal and iron' in the hands of the onem/,. have hcen abie to equal the production of our greit industrial centre*. The steel, of course, is supplied by us. To that extent we <an claim credit for the result. .And >o. after the ceremony of the wnlking-st cks. wo bid adieu to the lineof Soissons. To-morrow we start for t longer tour of tiie more formidable dis trict of th.e Atgonne, the neighbour <>t Wrdmi, and itself the scene of .-" much that is glor'ous and tragic