THE POILU OF FRANCE

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 85, 3 January 1918, Page 9

THE POILU OF FRANCE

1 • VARIETIES OF HIM ' FAMOUS FIGHTERS Everybody knows in a general way •the French soldier, unshaven and mudbespattered, whose nickname "poilu ds France" ha 3 now become a household word. But there is a note of novelty in the classification of the poilu mado by Captain Gustav Capart, a member of tho French General Staff, who was recently dispatched on a special mission to tho United States. He was charged by General Petain—the hero of Verdun —with the duty of apprising Americans of the valour and impersonal courage of the poilu, so that they might know and understand the battles of Verdun, tho Yser, Champagne, and the Marne. Captain Capart is fully competent to speak on this topic, for he was for three years under his chief fn the thiokest of the fighting on th® Western front, and wears the medal of tho Legion of Honour, as well as the War Cross with two palms and a star. To the French people the term poilu expresses everything that is noble rrnl enduring, and conjures up to man, woman, and child the heroes of three years' terrible warfare. At all times the French soldier is calm, humorous, and brave, even under violent bombardment. Captain Capart thus describes the sarcastic poilu, able _ to see sn amusing situation while dodging shrapnel:— A man and I went up to a battery of 75's to observe the fire at close quarters. Mules were coming up with ammunition, but for some reason they became unruly at the rapidity of the. firing. "What's tho matter?" ho shouted at the animals, "don't you recognise your own 75's?" Of course there is the humorous poilu. Two scouts wero walking out over a terrain of nothing more than largo shell craters. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and tho flashes of fire lighted up tho gjistening snow. As they proceeded along, engrossed in the aspect of the scene, one of them fell headlong into a deep crater. The other doubled up with laughter at the spectacle, and as the poilu scrambled up clie steep side of the shell hole he said: "Do you know, my friend, that General Petain ordered ills subway closed!" At Verdun there is a maze of clectrio wiring in all underground tunnels. Ventilation in all of them is also supplied, and it was iny duty, among other things, to keep ventilated mines that run forward under tho trenches that are later exploded. One day the colonel of tho regiment passed though for inspection, and after examining the work carefully remarked to tho sappers: "You aro content to have Captain Capart give you air and light?" "No," the "poilu pratique" replied, "I prefer wine."

At Chambrettes farm during the night of February 23-24 we wero transporting ammunition to the front by n.c-ans of narrow-gaugo cars drawn by licrso.s and mules. A poilu is always at tho animal's head, so that in the ovent of an explosion rloso by ho vill not stampede. Suddenly a rocket flared from tho German side, disclosing our operations, and almost, immediately they concentrated their shell-firo, and high explosives wore breaking in our midst. The poilu's horse reared and plunged as it was struck by shell fragments, lifting the man high off .the ground, but be clung to tho bridle. "Where nro you going?" I shouted at l.im. "We can not go forward," ho returned, "and it is not the moment to go back. Vivo la Franco I" A second 1-iter he and the horse were killed, and they fell lying sido by sido., J have felt a keen regret to this day, for I do not know his name. He deserved the AVar Cross. Ho is what I would term "tho glorious poilu."

After a soldier returned from lis furlough to Paris I was anxious to loam of his first impressions airay from the front, and so asked him, little prepared for bis poetical reply. "A woman's smile," ho retorted, and seemed fully recompensed in the short visit. He is tho "poetical poilu." The "conscientious poilu" is determined iu bis loyalty and desire to obey orders precisely. Sometimes ho is very amusing. We were on a night patrol in Belgium, reconnoitring the. enemy on very dangerous ground for , the reason the. water was backing everywhere. A soldier approached, saluted, and said: "I sco a German sentinel, and I think I can bring him back.". Very well," I ordered, "bring bim back." He disappeared into tho night, and in about fifteen minutes ieturned and saluted. "I cannot bring him back, captain ; there is too much barbed wire. But it is possible to shoot him, and I came back for your permission to do so." "Go," 1 said, and he turned on his heel and left. Shortly there was a great serenade of machine-gun tiro in tho direction he had gone. We thought the poor lad had been killed. However, iu half an hour he came up, saluted with a dignified air, and said: "1 have killed bim."

The soil in tho Eparges district, near Verdun, is red. ■ Tho battle had Leon in progress for days, and ive were continually up to -cur middle, in this ted mud, which made rather a. striking contrast with our uniforms of blue. The blend was sort of brown. General. Renaud, who commauded tho division, came up one day, and seeing tho men plastered completely with mud, remarked: "My poor children, what, a state you are in 1" Ono heroic fellow saluted his chief and replied in a serious tone: "General, it is we —the men of bronze." He is the "heroic poilu." The poilu of the ironic type Captain Capart discovered in the Eparges sector .in November, when the French were attacking at regular intervals. After several advances it looked for a'time as though they would have to fall back. Near the captain was a corporal, who, having miraculously escaped being torn to pieces by an exploding shell, turned arid said with a twinklo in his eye: "Captain, as long as your eye-glass remains unbrokon we shall gain the trench." Captain Capart relates further:—

That the soldiers have groat admiration for General Petain is evidenced by ail incident that happened during tho battle of Champagne in 191.7. A comrade had given me a beautiful bouquet of red roses the night before the battle. Thinking it had been given to me by General Petain, a group of men asked me for the roses. I handed them over, and thought no'thing more about tho, incident. After the great attack I ■went among'the men, and every one iii the whole , battalion had in the .buttonhole.of his coat a petal of a red rose. They- are the ''chivalrous poilus." On February 24, 1910, at Verdun, tho day of the terrific attack, the German bombardment .never ceased for a moment. It was' a critical period, 'fraught with great loss of life and continual danger. The men seemed to realise tho importance of holding tho Bochcs at any cost. Their clan and verve, wliicli characterise them, were superb. Shells were pouring in like liail. And in tho midst of all this 1 he.i.rd tho following: "Yon. then, know woll, ray friend," a poihi said, addressing himself to a comrade at his side, who after many hours of vigil was half reclining in an effort to secure a wellearned rest, "that you cannot lot go. because each minute that wo gain Mid hold now—is a victory!" ■ The Gonnans ivcll It now and have learned to rosn»ct the iiniln, who. fear1. ■■••s and terrible in attack, ah-ointelv '•isregwls his prowii'! f.lctv. In Cliampjigno this year, after the Bodies had given way before our irrcsistihlo assaultj a German oflicor who had been

captured said to me: "What are these men—lions?" And I replied: "They aro tho poilus of Francet" After ouo of tho battles near Verdun a poilu who had distinguished himself for conspicuous gallantry was called over by an officer. "Of what religion are you?" he asked. The soldier saluted and respectfully replied: "I pm of that religion that looks God in the eyes." He is the "poilu magnificent.