THE FRENCH SOLDIER AT HOME
British soldiers, serving under a voluntary system, have little to say
for the conscript system, but a glance round Paris in time of peace
might persuade them that there are various compensations and advantages
in a conscript army which they, serving voluntarily, do not enjoy.
It is a surprise to one who has served in the British Army to see
the French Republican Guards stationed on the grand staircase of the
Opéra, and also at all entrances and exits of this famous building. In
practically every theatrical establishment in Paris the Guards may be
seen on this class of duty, for which they get specially paid. There
are military attendants at the Folies Bergères, at the Nouveau Cirque,
at the Moulin Rouge, and even at such an irresponsible home of laughter
as the Bal Tabarin. As the darkey said of Daniel in the lions' den,
these men get a free show.
But it is not only when on duty that the French soldier is to be seen
in such places of amusement as these, for the non-commissioned officer
is to be found in company with his wife or _fiancée_ in every class
of seat. It is no uncommon thing to find among the most attentive
listeners at the Opéra a number of _piou-pioux_, in full uniform, among
the fashionable people in the stalls. The Republican rule, which makes
of every man a citizen and an equal of all the rest, leads to what,
in such a country as England, would be considered curious anomalies.
Beside the newspaper critic in full evening-dress may be seen the
private soldier, in uniform, taking notes with probably greater
intelligence than the newspaper man; for the soldier may be anything
in civilian life: the son of the rich banker occupies the next bed in
the barrack-room to the son of the Breton peasant, and the Cabinet
Minister's lad, when in uniform, is on a level with the gamin of Paris.
It must be confessed that the average French soldier, when off parade,
looks rather slovenly. The baggy trousers go a long way toward the
creation of this impression. Then, again, the way in which the French
soldier is trained to march is far different from British principles.
The "pas-deflexion" does not look so smart as the stately march of the
British Guards, but it is more effective. This bent-knee, slouching
method carries men along with a swing; the step is shorter than that
of British troops, but the rate is more to the minute than that of the
British Army, and the men swing along, to all appearances tireless, at
such a pace that they cover about thirty miles a day on manoeuvres.
This, too, with a pack at which a British infantryman would look
aghast, for the French pack is proverbial for its size and weight. It
confers a great advantage, however, with regard to marching, in that
it lessens the amount of transport which must follow on the track of
infantry, and is necessary to the well-being of the men.
A British infantry regiment on the march, and marching at ease, still
looks imposing; a French infantry battalion, on the other hand, is the
reverse of spectacular when marching at ease. The band comes first,
with its instruments carried anyhow so long as they are comfortable;
the rank and file, following, carry their rifles as the band carries
its instruments, in any fantastic position that makes for ease; step is
not maintained; the set "fours" which British troops maintain at ease
as well as at attention are not to be seen, for a man drops back to the
rank in his rear to talk to a comrade, or goes forward to the rank in
front to light his cigarette. They smoke and sing and joke; they eat
bread and drink wine by way of refreshment, since the evening meal
is yet a long way off; alongside the troops as they march may be seen
pedlars and hawkers offering their wares, and it is all quite the usual
thing, quite legitimate. The fetish of smartness is non-existent here;
comfort and use are the main points.
But, at the given occasion, comes the word from the colonel; correct
formations appear out of the threes and fives of men as if by magic.
The band is a corporate body, marching to attention, and playing
the regiment on with every bit as fine a military appearance as any
British band. The men resume step, and, with their peculiar swinging
march, follow on, a regiment at attention, and as fine a regiment, in
appearance as well as in fact, as one would wish to see. Work is work,
and play is play, and the French soldier does both thoroughly.
This attitude of the French soldier toward his work, and the fact
that he is permitted to maintain that attitude, are due to so large
a proportion of the officers having themselves served in the ranks.
There is a sufficient leavening of "ranker" officers to enable all
commissioned men to understand, when on a route march, what it feels
like to the rank and file. Unlike the British Army, that of France is
a Republican business. The very circumstance that discipline is more
severe arises from the fact that all men are equal, and both soldier
and officer know it. And, if ever the French soldier becomes conscious
that he is really suffering from the severity of discipline, he knows
that he is suffering in good company: under conscription there is no
escape.
The training of the French _piou-piou_ in marching is a scientific
business. At first he is required to execute 160 steps to the
minute--very short steps taken very quickly. In this way the recruit is
made to cover 3000 yards at first, and then the distance is increased
to 12,000 yards, the increases being made a thousand yards at a time.
As the distance increases, the length of the step is increased, and the
number of steps to the minute decreased. The full course of training is
reckoned at three practices a week for three months, and the infantry
recruit, before being dismissed from training, is required to cover
twelve miles at the rate of seven miles an hour. There is no doubt
that this scientific training in marching, and the teaching of the
half-shuffling trot, characteristic of French infantry, add enormously
to the marching value of the men. One battalion of Chasseurs-à-Pied set
up a record in marching while on manoeuvres by covering no less than
68 kilometres (equivalent to nearly 40 English miles) in the course
of a day. This constitutes a definite record in marching, for any
considerable body of men.
In the matter of smartness, it is hardly fair to compare a British
infantry battalion with a French one, for the point arises yet once
more with regard to the difference between a voluntary and a conscript
system. The English battalion is made up of picked men, while in the
French service all citizens are included; the fact of choice in the
case of the British battalion makes for uniformity. The recruits of the
French battalion include every man who has been passed by the revising
board, and there is not the same chance of maintaining that uniformity
which alone is responsible for smartness. And smartness itself is
but a survival from the days when a soldier was trained to no more
than unquestioning obedience, the old days before warfare became so
scientific as it is at present, when initiative was not required of the
rank and file. The only purpose served by smartness at the present day
is that of recruiting, and, obviously, a conscript army has no need of
this. Hence use rather than appearance comes first.
An island people may well wonder that a conscript army could be so
popular as is the French, but then an island people could never
realise, although they might vaguely understand, what it must be like
to know that some day the army of a hostile nation may march across
the frontier. The absence of sea bulwarks makes a difference in the
temper of a people; an ever-present threat colours and modifies their
life, and, no matter how set for peace the conditions may appear, the
threat is present just the same. Since 1872 France as a whole has known
that the day of reckoning with Germany would come, and the knowledge
has grown more complete and more insistent with the passing of each
year and the increase in German military preparations, which could be
destined to fulfil but one end. France realised its duty to combat the
fulfilment of that end, and the nation as a whole set itself to prepare
against "The Day."
By reason of this the French Army is popular; the discipline is severe,
far too much so for any English soldier to endure as a Frenchman
endures it; punishments are frequent, it is true, but they are
undergone in the right spirit by the great majority, who know that the
Army must be trained and kept in ultimate efficiency. The conscript
knows that his training is a part of the price that the nation must
pay for having a land frontier and a grasping neighbour, and he pays
his part of the price cheerfully and well. It may be said that no
conscript army in Europe is so popular as that of France; in none is
there a better spirit than that displayed by Frenchmen. The mercurial
temperament of the nation is yet another cause for severe disciplinary
measures, for in order to shape a Frenchman to military requirements
his extreme elasticity must be controlled, and this would be impossible
under such conditions as are sufficient for the maintenance of, say,
the British Army.
Moreover, Republican rule and French military methods have forged bonds
between officers and men which never have existed and never will exist
in the army of their great opponent, for instance. I have devoted a
considerable section of a chapter to punishment, and possibly at first
sight this list may appear severe. It is, however, only necessary to
recall the fact that while Germany takes only a percentage of its men
for military training, and France takes the whole for the same purpose,
German methods are twice as severe. Yet again, it is not the quality
of the punishment inflicted, but the spirit in which it is inflicted
that counts most. The French soldier admires, respects, and will gladly
obey the colonel or captain who writes him down so many days _salle de
police_ when he deserves it. But the German soldier is hardly likely
to respect the officer who not only inflicts punishments according
to scale, but will lash him across the face with a whip until the
blood flows. Between French officers and their men is the spirit of
comradeship, and in this is evidence of the value of the French method
of training. Between the German officer and the man whom he commands
are hate and despite in the great majority of cases, and this also
attests the value of a system.