March 29, 1917 
LAND & WATER 
Tommy and Jacques 
By Rene Puaux 
M. Rene Puaux, the writer of this admirable story of 
the relationship between the French and British soldier 
in France, was before the war a journalist on the staff 
of " Le Temps," and at one time its London editor. 
During the war he has been on the staff of General 
Foch, and has served as an officer " de liaison " bdween 
that General's Headquarters and the British G.H.Q. 
TO say that Tommy Atkins and Jacques Bon- 
homme have become friends — " old pals " — 
is a truth so incontrovertible that only the in- 
credible stupidity of the spectacled professors 
beyond the Rhine could still cling to the belief that their 
propagandist brochures are eflicacious. These brochures 
declare with the utmost solemnity that England will never 
relinquish Calais, and that the French people would do 
well to mistrust their dangerous Ally from the further 
side of the Channel. 
The relations between French and English soldiers, 
like those between the general population of France and 
the British Expeditionary Force, were, even in August 
1 914, most cordial. And ever since then that cordiality 
lias been steadily increasing to a degree that deserves to be 
recorded. 
When the first contingent under Field Marshal French 
landed in France they were greeted with polite curiosity 
rather than with enthusiasm. In seaport and inland 
village alike the Englishman possessed that reputation 
for luxurious habits which tourists have always done so 
much to foster. And the actual wealth of these soldiers, 
their high rate of pay, and the solid golden sovereigns 
they flung down upon the counters of the shops, aroused 
the amazement and avarice of the trades-people. The 
English army was thoroughly exploited, and submitted 
tc the treatment with the disdainful indifference of 
gentlemen of quality. Lord Kitchener's injunctions — 
his appeals to that dignity which the son of Great Britain 
is never allowed to forget — were almost superfluous. The 
men of the British Expeditionary Force, led as they were 
by officers of the regular army, gentlemen of breeding 
whose manners had been still further polished in other 
colonial campaigns, were all proud, in this strange but 
friendly land, to do honour to their own country. The 
humblest private soldier assumed the airs of a grand 
seigneur, threw down his money without counting it, 
never ventured to refuse a " souvenir," whatever the 
loss to his equipment, and behaved in his billet with the 
courtesy of a marquis of the old regime. During this 
first period the Expeditionary Force was rather lost amid 
the immense emotions of the French nation, and held itself 
aloft with a certain shyness and modesty. Those who 
received encouragement were gracious and ready enough 
with a shake of the hand, but they were not yet com- 
pletely carried away by the common task of presenting 
an invincible front. 
The battles of Flanders during October and November, 
1914, once for all revealed the men of the two armies to 
one another. The French saw that these Tommies 
whom they chaffed — not without envy — on account of 
their solid and nutritious provisions and their taste for 
comfort and hydrothe: apeutics, were capital soldiers, 
as eager as the chasseurs d pied or the Zouaves, and had 
given proof of stoical courage in the most dramatic cir- 
cumstances. The English, on the other hand, revised 
their original unfavourable view of the French soldier 
as a man ill-shaved and ill-groomed, dressed carelessly, 
in a coat either too long or too short, and entirely lacking 
in the distinguished and correct appearance and manner 
that appeal to the British temperament. 
"^Community of effort and of suffering forged the first 
link. A point of contact was now established. Relations 
were none the less difficult, for the gift of tongues was 
rare. There was need for much goodwill, which is one 
of the most beneficial fairies that inhabit our sorrowful 
world. 1 have been present at many a conversation 
between a poilu and a Tommy, and they were nearly all 
alike. The Englishman said hardly anything, but smiled ; 
,.while the Frenchman on the contrary talked with great 
vivacity, repeating his words more and more loudly as 
though in the hope of making them more intelligible, 
and producing all the synonyms at his disposal, (j The 
Englishman continued to smile, as though in gratitude 
for the prodigious efforts of his interlocutor, the good 
intentions of which he recognised while failing to under- 
stand their precise meaning. The attitude of the French- 
man was not unlike that of an old man with a youth ; 
somewhat protective and paternal. He would pat the 
Englishman's shoulder affectionately. Often at the end 
of these strange colloquies, the Englishman would pull 
out his pocket book and exhibit the photograph of his 
sweetheart, or of a baby and a young wife. The secrets 
of the heart are the same in all languages. Is it not here, 
indeed, that we find the supreme motive of the courage and 
self-sacrifice of all : the defence of their hearths ? 
Paternal Superiority 
If it was some considerable time before the French 
soldier, in his relations with the British, dropped this 
attitude of paternal superiority, I think the chief reason 
lies in the fact that the French mobilisation included 
territorials, reservists, and young men, thereby giving 
our army an appearance of age, to which Lord Kitchener's 
volunteers, all of whom were young, yielded a certain 
amount of respect. Moreover since the two armies were 
not mingled the British soldiers came chiefly in contact 
with the grey-bearded reservists of the territorial army 
who were employed at the rear, or in the defence of the 
second line. By a fairly artless mental process they 
concluded that these veterans had grown grey in the field 
of battle, and that a certain degree of deference was due 
to them. 
The Expeditionary Force and the first contingents 
of volunteers were gradually reinforced by fresh recruits 
with less exalted ideas and more rudimentary education : 
determined, tough, brave-hearted fellows who no longer 
regarded the land of France as a foreign country whither 
they had come to help a friend attacked by a brigand, 
but as a country, which, since English blood had already 
flowed in it, had turned into an addition to their own 
national soil. For the future " Plug Street " (Plogsteert) 
Wood, Neuve Chapelle, and St. Omer would form a part 
of English geography. Tommy took off the gloves of a 
well-bred tourist and set himself to the task in hand with 
all the bitter energy of the suburban or artisan poilu. 
A common task, common sufferings, and above all — 
after a time — common successes combined to efface any 
differences there might be between the two armies. At 
the beginning Great Britain, in this great international 
match, had but three men engaged for every fifteen 
Frenchmen ; now she could form a complete team of her 
own. The Frenchman is a sportsman : he can applaud 
the successes of others. At first he did not altogether 
appreciate the efforts of Britain, because he knew nothing 
of the difficulties. In his eyes the British soldier was an 
amateur who ate a great deal of jam and was frequently 
relieved, a piece of good fortune that the French soldier 
does not so often enjoy. The affair at Loos in September, 
1915, aroused the admiration of the neighbouring French 
troops. On the balance sheet of the concerted operations 
that took the French to the ridges of Givenchy and La 
Folic and the British to the artisan quarters of Lens, 
the sum of their successes could be justly shared. This 
resulted in a final appraisement of the British army : 
it was capable of great things. 
The offensive of the Somme in July, 1916, put the crowii- 
ing touch upon this high estimate. The protective attitude 
hitherto assumed by the French soldier gave place to a 
feeling of equality, and even of grateful affection. To 
Jac jues Bonhomme, in the weariness of his prolonged 
efforts and the gloom of frequent mourning, Tommy 
Atkins with his smile and his high spirits became very 
comforting. And in the eye of the British soldier there 
was a light that seemed to say : " Yes, old chap, I know 1 
You've been through Charleroi, the Marne, the Oise, the 
Somme, the Yser, Artois, Alsace, Champagne, and 
