In this connection, stories of persecution of individuals who have done nothing to merit the punishment inflicted on them, especially in military service, should always be accepted with the proverbial grain of salt. For there is never smoke without fire, and the man who is unpopular with all his officers and non-commissioned officers to such an extent as to incur a succession of punishments is usually deserving of all that he gets. Humanity is so constituted that sympathy almost invariably goes to the individual who is at variance with the mass, and in the exercise of sympathy one is apt to overlook the qualities and characteristics of the object on which it is bestowed. We hear, usually, the story of the man who considers himself aggrieved or unjustly punished, and, without listening to the other side of the case, we immediately conclude that his statements are correct in all their details. As a rule, the man who thus attempts to secure a reversal of the decision against him has some inherent quality which makes for unpopularity. He is inclined to curry favour, which renders him a marked man among his comrades, or he commits acts against discipline in such a way that, although it is practically certain that he is the offender, the evidence against him is insufficient to warrant punishment. These and other characteristics of the man concerned bring heavy punishment on him when is finally caught, and, although the punishment is perfectly just, the offender immediately whines over it in such a clever way that sympathising outsiders accord him far more consideration than he deserves, and consider that his just judges have been inhuman brutes, though they merely fulfilled their duty. The offender makes sufficient fuss to be heard, but the individual or body of individuals who ordered his punishment are not able to advertise themselves in similar fashion, and thus a one-sided view is taken.
To return to the Foreign Legion, it may be said that any attempt to quote incidents typical of its members and their ways would be quite useless, for there is in the Legion sufficient material to furnish all the novelists of this and the next century with plots to keep them busy. To outward seeming the soldiers of the Foreign Legion are average men, engaged in average military duties, and it is not until definite contact with them has been established that any realisation of their exceptional qualities and curious defects can be obtained. As is well known, the Legion includes every class of adventurers from men of royal blood and noblemen of the highest rank downward, and many an assumed name conceals a story which would be worth untold gold in Fleet Street, or in the journalistic equivalent of Fleet Street in some other European capital.
It is not generally realised in this country that the extent of the French colonies is such as to necessitate the maintenance of a considerable body of colonial troops. With the exception of the troops stationed in Algeria and Tunis, service in the French colonies is a voluntary matter; the natives of the various French dependencies have been induced to accept military service on a voluntary basis to a considerable extent. In addition to the famous Algerian Turcos, battalions of Senegalese troops have been formed with excellent results; it has been found that the natives of this dependency make good soldiers, particularly suited to service in the interior of Africa, owing to their immunity from diseases which render tracts of country almost impenetrable to white troops. The numbers of native colonial troops given in Chapter I are constantly and steadily increasing, for, in addition to making good soldiers, the natives of French dependencies come forward readily and in increasing numbers to recruiting centres.
As regards the regular army, matters have been much better with reference to discipline and punishment since the system which permitted of volontaires was abolished. The volontaires were men who, on payment of a certain sum to the State, were permitted to compress their military training into the space of one year. The payment of this sum was supposed to guarantee a certain amount of social standing in civil life, and the volontaires were always regarded theoretically as a possible source from which to promote officers in case of need. In practice, however, the experiment worked out quite differently. The volontaires were found to be men of varying grades in life, with varying degrees of education, and equally varying mental qualities. They were extremely unpopular among the ordinary conscript rank and file, on whom many of them affected to look down as inferior beings. The more unscrupulous of them would attempt to evade duty by bribing non-commissioned officers, while those who were unable to compass bribery railed against the unequal treatment meted out to them in comparison with that enjoyed by their comrades. Their one year of training was insufficient to make practical soldiers out of the raw material submitted, and altogether it was a good thing for France when the whole system was swept away, and, consistently with the Republican principle, all citizens were regarded as equal under the drill instructor. The volontaire system was no more and no less than favouritism on the part of the State.
It must not be overlooked that, although the initial period of service in the French Army is compulsory, quite a large percentage of the men remain in the Army of their own free will at the end of the two compulsory years. For such as elect to make a career of the Army in this fashion, there is a materially increased rate of pay, ranging from an approximate equivalent of 8d. a day upwards, with a pension, and usually with Government employment if desired, after only fifteen years of service. These re-engagés very seldom stay down in the ranks, but form the chief source from which non-commissioned officers are obtained. Kipling's phrase with regard to British non-commissioned officers is equally applicable to the Army of the Republic, for the non-commissioned officer is the backbone of the French Army just as surely as the officer is its brains. The sergeant-major of a squadron, or the French equivalent of a British infantry colour-sergeant in a company, is the right hand of the captain commanding, adviser as well as intermediary between officers and men. The sergeant in charge of a peloton or troop is not only the principal instructor with whom the men of the troop have to deal, but is also counsellor and guide to the young lieutenant who comes straight from a military school to take up his commission, and needs experience of the ways of men in addition to the theoretical knowledge he has already gained. The corporal, who does not hold non-commissioned rank as in the British Army, and counts his position as an appointment rather than a definite promotion, forms a sort of go-between for men and sergeants, imparting individual instruction to the men, and supervising their welfare in the barrack room, while himself qualifying for the rank of sergeant. The revolutionary proposal to abolish corporals in the French Army rose out of an idea that men resented being governed by one who had formerly been a comrade with them, but could no longer be so regarded after he had assumed authority over them. It is to be hoped that the proposal will never be acted on, for the principle of entrusting matters of individual tuition and supervision to the old soldiers takes no account of personal worth or fitness for command.
The life which the conscript must lead during his two years of service is determined largely by the garrison to which he is drafted. Life in a sunny and sleepy garrison town in the wine-growing district of the south is—granted reasonable military conditions—quite ideal; the monotony of the life spent in drill in a frontier fort tends to make the conscript bad-tempered, while men stationed among the French hills of the south and eastern frontiers gain most in the way of physical fitness, and also, in their work of making new roads, clearing passes, constructing frontier obstructions, ascertaining distances, and carrying the heavy loads incidental to their work from point to point, acquire a certain quality of mental celerity of which men stationed in the sunny garrison towns of the south go free. But the various attractions and drawbacks of the twenty great garrison towns, together with their situation and special characteristics, are sufficient to merit separate consideration.
THE GREAT GARRISON TOWNS OF FRANCE
Paris, as capital of the Republic, first merits consideration among the great garrison towns of France. It has the most extensive system of fortifications in the world, and has had the doubtful privilege of having undergone more sieges, burnings, and other military experiments than most large cities can boast or mourn. The inner line of fortifications was planned as far back as 1840, with a total measurement of 22½ miles, but after the war of 1870 two main lines of detached forts were erected in addition to those already in existence, which formed the skeleton on which the more modern plan is built. The older forts are those of St. Denis, Aubervilliers, Romainville, Noisy, Resny, Nogent, Vincennes, Ivry, Bicêtre, Montrouge, Vanves, Issy, and Mont Valérien; the new forts which completed the scheme are those of Palaiseau, Villeras, Buc, and St. Cyr, which form the Versailles portion of the scheme, and Marly, St. Jamme, and Aidremont, round St. Germain. On the opposite side of the Seine are situated forts Cormeillers, Domont, Montlignon, Montmorency, Écouen, Stains, Vaujours, Villiers, and Villeneuve St. Georges. The Chatillon fort occupies a position between the two lines, and is placed on the site whence German batteries bombarded Paris during the siege of 1871, forming a proof of the wisdom displayed in the German choice of position. The double line of forts thus disposed renders Paris as nearly impregnable to the attack of an enemy as is possible under modern military conditions.