Then we had to work our way, department by department, against
the tides of men behind the line--supports and their supports,
reserves and reserves of reserves, as well as the masses in
training. They flooded towns and villages, and when we tried
short-cuts we found them in every by-lane. Have you seen
mounted men reading their home letters with the reins thrown
on the horses' necks, moving in absorbed silence through a
street which almost said "Hush!" to its dogs; or met, in a
forest, a procession of perfectly new big guns, apparently
taking themselves from the foundry to the front?
In spite of their love of drama, there is not much
"window-dressing" in the French character. The Boche, who is
the priest of the Higher Counter-jumpery, would have had half
the neutral Press out in cars to advertise these vast spectacles
of men and material. But the same instinct as makes their rich
farmers keep to their smocks makes the French keep quiet.
"This is our affair," they argue. "Everybody concerned is
taking part in it. Like the review you saw the other day,
there are no spectators."
"But it might be of advantage if the world knew."
Mine was a foolish remark. There is only one world to-day,
the world of the Allies. Each of them knows what the others
are doing and--the rest doesn't matter. This is a curious but
delightful fact to realize at first hand. And think what it
will be later, when we shall all circulate among each other
and open our hearts and talk it over in a brotherhood more
intimate than the ties of blood!
I lay that night at a little French town, and was kept awake
by a man, somewhere in the hot, still darkness, howling aloud
from the pain of his wounds. I was glad that he was alone,
for when one man gives way the others sometimes follow. Yet
the single note of misery was worse than the baying and
gulping of a whole ward. I wished that a delegation of
strikers could have heard it.
. . . . . . .
That a civilian should be in the war zone at all is a fair
guarantee of his good faith. It is when he is outside the
zone unchaperoned that questions begin, and the permits are
looked into. If these are irregular--but one doesn't care to
contemplate it. If regular, there are still a few
counter-checks. As the sergeant at the railway station said
when he helped us out of an impasse: "You will realize that it
is the most undesirable persons whose papers are of the most
regular. It is their business you see. The Commissary of Police
is at the Hotel de Ville, if you will come along for the little
formality. Myself, I used to keep a shop in Paris. My God,
these provincial towns are desolating!"