AN AMERICAN IN THE BRITISH ARMY.*

Mn. J. N. HALL belongs to that army, not great in numbers perhaps. but universal in distribution, which is composed of men who cannot keep out of a fight when they happen to be near one. Mr. Hall happened to be in London, after a summer holiday in Wales, when London broke into a fervour of recruiting at the beginning of the war. He was attracted beyond his powers of resistance, though he told himself again and again that the war was none of his business. Twice he joined a queue waiting outside a recruiting-booth, and twice he fell out of it before his turn came ; but the third time his mind was made up. In analysing the character of the British soldier he tells us that the British way is not to show your feelings, but to have deep feeling all the same. We trust Mr. Hall will not take it amiss if we say that he is British in this respect. We are pretty sure that when he puts his enlistment down to a passing spirit of adventure ho is saying less than ho felt in those early days of the war. He knew that the war was his war in the sense that a fight for liberty and a work of rescue cannot be alien to the heart of any true and generous soul. Every British reader of this book will be proud to reflect that an American passer-by—and he was not the only one—simply could not restrain himself from joining the youth of Britain when the call came to them to show by sacrifice their love of all that makes life fair and honest. Mr. Hall reminds us that his act was not necessarily characteristic, that it was only his own waywardness. But ho also tells us that his fellow-privates insisted on regarding him as a bodily proof of the sympathy of the United States. However that may be, his own sympathy, which was steady to begin with, deepened into enthusiasm under the hardest of all tests— suffering, fatigue, and perilous fighting.

• Eitelkmes Mob : the Adventures of as Americas is the British Army. By James Norman Rail. London: Constable and Co. [4s. 64. net.]

" Kitchener's mob," the nickname of the Arst thousands of the greatest voluntary Army ever recruited, pleased Mr. Hall because of its dis- paraging note. He was the more pleased by the fact that the recruits had bestowed it on themselves. One of the first tasks of the author, after going through the " formality " of saying he was an Englishman,

to satisfy the recruiting authorities, was the highly mistaken one of trying to talk the Cockney language. He did this on the advice of a sergeant. Of course, he had only to say that he was an American who thought it worth while to fight for Britain to be received with open arms. But, following the sergeant's advice, he puzzled both himself and his comrades with his exercises in a difficult accent, till he eventually fell back with complete success on an avowal of his nationality. He

was thenceforward known as " Jamie the Yank." A doubt may be expressed hero whether his ear did not deceive him as he listened to the conversation of his comrades. He makes them all talk an advanced Cockney lingo which is not quite so common as foreigners with precon- ceptions suppose. We are the more doubtful as he says that his fellow- recruits belonged mostly to the " lower middle classes." They were " shop assistants, clerks, railway and city employees, and tradesmen,"

with a generous sprinkling of labourers. Mr. Hall's account of the first reception of his platoon by their sergeant reminds us of Mr. Blotch- ford's delightful description of the language of the old-fashioned sergeant

on contemplating the ranks of " miserable devils " whom he had to try to turn into soldiers. Mr. Blatchford, having plenty of humour, thoroughly enjoyed the invective of this stage-figure of an N.C.O. Mr. Hall's sergeant was not so fiery, but he had the heart of the tradition in him. Here is Mr. Hall's recollection of the sergeant's address • " Lissen 'ere, you men I've never saw such a raw, roun'-shouldered batch o' rookies in fifteen years' service. Yer pasty-faced an' yer thin-chested. Gawd 'elp 'Is Majesty if it ever lays with you to save 'im ! 'Owever, we're 'ere to do wot we can with wot we got. Now, then, upon the command, Form Fours,' I wanna see the even numbers tyke a pace to the rear with the left foot, an' one to the right with the right foot. Like so : ' One-one-two I ' Platoon 1 Form Fours ! Oh ! Orful ! Orful As y' were ! As y' were 1" The general belief among the recruits was that they would be off to the front in a few weeks. They knew that the British Expeditionary Force was being driven back ; they thought that it must be helped at once or it would be too late. And so they believed that as soon as they had learnt some elementary drill and a smattering of musketry they would be taken to Flanders to do what they could to save the situation. They little understood the faith and patience with which Lord Kitchener was setting about making an Army that should be a real Army. As a Boer War veteran in the ranks remarked : " Pm a-go'n' to transfer out o' this 'ere mob, that's wot Pm a go'n' to do Soldiers ! S'y I'll bet a quid they ain't a one of you ever saw a rifle before 1 Soldiers ? Strike me pink 1 Wot's Lord Kitchener a-doin' of, that's wot I want to know 1" And he was not alone in his astonishment. Hardly a voice was raised in support of Lord Kitchener's scheme for creating great Armies out of nothing. All eyes were on the instant need there in Flanders.

Of course, as an American, Mr. Hall found the British method of disci- . Aline, and the assumption (as he took it to be) of the necessity of class

distinctions, foreign to his own ideas :—

" Being an American, it was very hard, at first, to understand the class distinctions of British army life. And having understood them, it was more difficult yet to endure them. I learned that a ranker, or private soldier, is a socially inferior being from the officer's point of view. The officer class and the ranker class are east and west, and never the twain shall meet, except in their respective places upon the parade- ground. This does not hold good, to the same extent, upon active service. Hardships and dangers, shared in common, tend to break down artificial barriers. But even then, although there was good-will and friendliness between officers and men, I. saw nothing of genuine comradeship. This seemed to me a great pity. It was a loss for the officers fully as much as it was for the men. I had to accept, for con- venience sake, the fact of my social inferiority. Centuries of army tradition demanded it ; and I discovered that it is absolutely futile for one inconsequential American to rebel against the unshakable fortress of English tradition. Nearly all of my comrades were used to clear-out class distinctions in civilian life. It made little difference to them that some of our officers were recruits as raw as were we ourselves. They had money enough and education enough and influence enough to secure the king's commission ; and that fact was proof enough for Tommy that they wore gentlemen, and, therefore, too good for the likes of him to be

associating with. ' Look 'ere I Ain't a gentleman a gentleman ? I'm arskin' you, ain't 'e ? ' I saw the futility of discussing this question with Tommy. And later, I realized how important for British army discipline such distinctions are. So great is the force of prevailing opinion that I sometimes found myself accepting Tommy's point of view. I wondered if I was, for some eugenic reason, the inferior of those men whom I had to ' Sir' and salute whenever I dared speak. Such lapses were only occasional. But I understood, for the first

time, how important a part circumstance and environment play in shaping one's mental attitude. How I longed, at times, to chat

with colonels and to joke with captains on terms of equality 1 Whenever I confided these aspirations to Tommy he gazed at me in awe. ' Don't be a bloomin' ijut I They could jolly well 'ang you fer that I ' "

It seems a long time ago that the first hundred thousand were to be seen training in their nondescript uniforms or in no uniforms—as sure a proof as any Blue-book contains that Britain never dreamed of going to war. Many of Mr. Hall's comrades trained for some time in their civilian clothes, others wore canvas fatigue clothes, others the worn-out pifornth of policemen or tramcar conductors. Mr. Hall was shocked at the waste of food in those early days, but he handsomely acknowledges the strictness which emerged later. And he also bears witness to the physical well-being, and pride of personal fitness and bearing, which were, as always, the inevitable result of a military training. Why should such a blessing—for a blessing it is—be withheld from citizens in the United States ? " It seems a great pity," he acutely observes, " that the principle of personal freedom should be responsible for so many ill- shaped and ill-sorted physical incompetents." His criticism of our training is that the soldier does not often enough develop the power of personal initiative. " When we went on active service I noted that men who were excellent followers were not infrequently lost when called upon for independent action. They had not been trained to take the initiative, and had become so accustomed to having their thinking done for them that they often became confused and excited when they had to do it for themselves." Whether this be an avoidable failure or not, Mr. Hall has established his title to criticize by writing one of the best appreciations of the British private's character we have come across. He notes, for instance, that the private in his aggrieved moods utters a great many terrible threats against authority which he has no more intention than a child of fulfilling. The private soldier may tell you that if he catches a Hun ho will torture him to death, but when he really takes a prisoner he shares his few biscuits and " fags " with him. Mr. Hall describes the grousing and the threats as discipline was gradually tightened up :-

" Old privileges disappeared one by one. Individual liberty became a thing of the past. The men resented this bitterly for a time. Fierce hatreds of officers and N.C.O.s were engendered and there was much talk of revenge when we should get to the front. I used to look forward with

• 'ving to that day. It seemed probable that one night In the trenches would suffice for a wholesale slaughtering of officers. Old scores were to be paid off, old grudges wiped out with our first issue of ball ammuni- tion. Many a fist-banged board at the wet canteen gave proof of Tommy's earnestness. ' Shoot 'im 1' he would say, rattling the beer glasses the whole length of the table with a mighty blow of his fist. Blimy ! Wite That's all you got to do Just wits till wo get on the other side 1 ' But all these threats were forgotten months before the time came for carrying them out. Once Tommy understood the reason- ableness of severe discipline, he took his punishment for his offenses without complaint."

How fruitful the discipline was is shown by Mr. Hall's tribute to tLe excellent conduct of the men abroad :—

" During six months in the trenches I saw but two instances of drunkenness. Although I witnessed nearly everything which took place in my own battalion, and heard the general gossip of many others, never did I see or hear of a woman treated otherwise than courteously. Neither did I see or hear of any instances of looting or petty pilfering from the civilian inhabitants. It is true that the men had fewer oppor- tunities for misconduct, and they were fighting in a friendly country. Even so, active service as we found it was by no means free from tempta- tions. The admirable restraint of most of the men in the face of them was a fine thing to see."

It is worth noting that Mr. Hall attributes to Lord Kitohener's famous "wine and women" letter to the troops on their departure to the front a real influence in keeping them steady. We remember the surprised comments at the time in some foreign newspapers. Here was the Puritanism in the British character coming out I Were ever soldiers addressed before in this paternal, friendly, simple, "straight-talk manner ? The Secretary for War had become a parson. Lord Kitchener evidently understood his audience.

Mr. Hall's narrative has innumerable examples of the peculiarities of " Tommy," all carefully observed. How curious is the opinion that there is something humiliating in being wounded while doing navvy work about the trenches. One would think that there was no less honour in being wounded when s spade was in a man's hand than when he held a rifle, but convention draws a sharp distinction between the two. The universal tenderness of soldiers for children is noticed in an instructive episode in a French town One immense shell struck an empty house less than a block away and sent the masonry flying in every direction. The cloud of brick dust shone like gold in the sun. A moment later, a fleshy peasant woman, wearing wooden shoes, turned out of an adjoining street and ran awkwardly toward the scene of the explosion. Her movements were so clumsy and slow, in proportion to the great exertion she was making, that at any other time the sight would have been ludicrous. Now it was inevitable that such a sight should first appeal to Tommy's sense of humor, and thoughtlessly the boys started laughing and shouting at her. Go it, old dear I Yer makin' a grand race I " Two to one on Liza r The other w'y, ma 1 That's the wrong direction Yer rennin' right into 'em ! ' She gave no heed, and a moment later we saw her gather up a little girl from a doorstep, hugging and comforting her, and shielding her with her body, instinctively, at the sound of another exploding shell. The laughter in the ranks stopped as though every man had been suddenly struck dumb."

Mr. Hall's descriptions of some very fierce fighting make one hold one's breath. They are intensely vivid. But we have preferred to pick out passages which illustrate the effect of the British fighting man's character on an American mind. In the course of two hundred pages we see why Mr. Hall's heart sank temporarily at the beginning when he had committed himself to the comradeship of " Tommy,", and why at the end of his experience he felt that he "could not live without him.",