Since we landed here our march has been a triumphal one. Everywhere the
people received us with demonstrations of joy. When off duty we are
taken possession of by the townspeople and the French soldiers, and
fêted as though we had been lifelong friends. It is not uncommon to
see British and French soldiers walking about the streets arm-in-arm,
and the shopkeepers refuse to take money from our men. We are free to
take what we want in the way of fruit or wine, and some of the traders
are indignant even if you hint at payment. “Pay us in German coin when
you come back from Berlin,” is a favourite injunction. We have no
difficulty in making ourselves understood, for a surprising number of
the people know enough English to go on with, and men of the French
army are always ready to act as interpreters for us. The French troops
are delighted at the prospect of having British “comrades-in-arms.” I
was surprised to find that the average French “Tommy” is familiar with
the names of most of our regiments and our officers: _Lance-Corporal T.
Kelly_.