On the return to barracks after the march the non-commissioned officers of each company inspect the men's feet, and instruct their subordinates in the proper manner of treating blisters or chafes. I have myself seen an example when the results of this excellent system of training to resist fatigue has been of most signal service. As this incident is described in detail in a later chapter, I may simply mention that in January, 1892, a small relief column, of which I was a unit, performed a forced march of about 52 kilomètres,—or 32 miles—in eight hours.
This may not seem an extraordinary performance for Europe, but it must be borne in mind that it was done in the tropics, and that the road—if a path about a foot wide can be so called—ran through dense jungle and forest, or over slippery rocks, and that part of the distance was covered at night. In England the men are trained to route-marching during the summer and autumn only, which is due, no doubt, to the inclement weather of our winter and spring months; but in France and Algeria the troops are thus exercised right through the year. Whilst marching outside the towns the troops are allowed to smoke and sing.
All these military ditties, some of which date back in their origin to the early part of the eighteenth century, possess a swinging chorus, which is taken up by the whole column, with a surprisingly encouraging effect on the dust-stained, tired men, who, towards the end of a long day's tramp, are "swallowing the last kilomètre" with weary legs and aching loins.
It is of interest to note that the majority of French soldiers wear no socks when route-marching; this is owing to the fact that they generally chafe the feet of the walker. Some of the men wrap their feet in a triangular piece of linen which they call a chaussette russe; but in most cases nothing at all is worn inside the boot. Personally, I have found the last system the best conducive to comfort when a long distance has to be covered; but care must be taken that the boots worn fit well at the heel, ankle and instep, so that the foot does not slip about in them. They should be broad across the toes, and about half an inch longer than the foot itself; and, most important of all, should be so well greased that the leather of the uppers is as supple as india-rubber. Tallow is as good as anything for this purpose, but in Tonquin I found castor-oil—which is cheap and plentiful in the colony—a most excellent substitute.
General inspection—The band of the Legion—The caporal sapeur—Off to the manœuvres—A near thing—Convalescence—Arzew—Amateur theatricals—Bel-Abbes again—Volunteers for Tonquin—Oran again—A good send-off—The troop-ship Bien-Hoa, life on board—The Padre—Saigon—Along Bay.
Time flies apace when one is engrossed in mastering a new profession or calling, and I could with difficulty realise that only six short months separated me from my old life and complete ignorance of all things military, as, on one bright, hot morning in August, I stood at ease as the front rank man in No. 2 file of my company, which had mustered with all the strength of the regiment, and glanced at the serried ranks of the men of my corps, formed up on three sides of a square, round the barrack-yard. In the centre of this hollow square of men was the band of the regiment, and the detachment of sappers.