He came in the early days, when we were still at recruit drills under
the hot September sun. Tall, erect, smiling: so we first saw him, and
so he remained to the end. At the start he knew as little of soldiering
as we did. He used to watch us being drilled by the sergeant; but his
manner of watching was peculiarly his own. He never looked bored. He
was learning just as much as we were, in fact more. He was learning his
job, and from the first he saw that his job was more than to give the
correct orders. His job was to lead us. So he watched, and noted many
things, and never found the time hang heavy on his hands. He watched
our evolutions, so as to learn the correct orders; he watched for the
right manner of command, the manner which secured the most prompt
response to an order; and he watched every one of us for our individual
characteristics. We were his men. Already he took an almost paternal
interest in us. He noted the men who tried hard, but were naturally
slow and awkward. He distinguished them from those who were inattentive
and bored. He marked down the keen and efficient amongst us. Most of
all he studied those who were subject to moods, who were sulky one day
and willing the next. These were the ones who were to turn the scale.
If only he could get these on his side, the battle would be won.
For a few days he just watched. Then he started work. He picked out
some of the most awkward ones, and, accompanied by a corporal, marched
them away by themselves. Ingenuously he explained that he did not
know much himself yet; but he thought that they might get on better if
they drilled by themselves a bit, and that if he helped them, and they
helped him, they would soon learn. His confidence was infectious. He
looked at them, and they looked at him, and the men pulled themselves
together and determined to do their best. Their best surprised
themselves. His patience was inexhaustible. His simplicity could not
fail to be understood. His keenness and optimism carried all with them.
Very soon the awkward squad found themselves awkward no longer; and
soon after that they ceased to be a squad, and went back to the platoon.
Then he started to drill the platoon, with the sergeant standing by
to point out his mistakes. Of course he made mistakes, and when that
happened he never minded admitting it. He would explain what mistakes
he had made, and try again. The result was that we began to take
almost as much interest and pride in his progress as he did in ours.
We were his men, and he was our leader. We felt that he was a credit
to us, and we resolved to be a credit to him. There was a bond of
mutual confidence and affection between us, which grew stronger and
stronger as the months passed. He had a smile for almost everyone; but
we thought that he had a different smile for us. We looked for it, and
were never disappointed. On parade, as long as we were trying, his
smile encouraged us. Off parade, if we passed him and saluted, his
eyes looked straight into our own, and his smile greeted us. It was a
wonderful thing, that smile of his. It was something worth living for,
and worth working for. It bucked one up when one was bored or tired.
It seemed to make one look at things from a different point of view,
a finer point of view, his point of view. There was nothing feeble or
weak about it. It was not monotonous like the smile of "Sunny Jim." It
meant something. It meant that we were his men, and that he was proud
of us, and sure that we were going to do jolly well--better than any
of the other platoons. And it made us determine that we would. When we
failed him, when he was disappointed in us, he did not smile. He did
not rage or curse. He just looked disappointed, and that made us feel
far more savage with ourselves than any amount of swearing would have
done. He made us feel that we were not playing the game by him. It was
not what he said. He was never very good at talking. It was just how he
looked. And his look of displeasure and disappointment was a thing that
we would do anything to avoid. The fact was that he had won his way
into our affections. We loved him. And there isn't anything stronger
than love, when all's said and done.