The rank-
and-file of the British army which first came into France was also a
little careless of French susceptibilities. After the first rapture of that
welcome which was extended to anyone in khaki, French citizens
began to look a little askance at the regiments from the Highlands
and Lowlands, some of whose men demanded free gifts in the shops,
and, when a little drunk, were rather crude in their amorous advances
to girls of decent up-bringing. These things were inevitable. In our
regular army there were the sweepings of many slums, as well as the
best blood of our peasantry and our good old families. Tough and
hardened fellows called to the Colours again from Glasgow and
Liverpool, Cardiff and Limehouse, had none of the refinements of the
younger generation of soldiers who prefer lemonade to whisky, and
sweetmeats to shag. It was these who in the first Expeditionary Force
gave most trouble to the military police and found themselves under
the iron heel of a discipline which is very hard and very necessary in
time of war.
4
These men were heroic soldiers, yet our hero-worship need not blind
us to the truth of things. There is nothing more utterly false than to
imagine that war purges human nature of all its frailties and vices,
and that under the shadow of death a great body of men gathered
like this from many classes and cities, become suddenly white
knights, sans-peur et sans reproche, inspired by the highest ideals of
faith and chivalry.
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