"Truly, I think they are very good," the Frenchman told me. Then he corrected himself. "I mean I think they will be very good. They are something like the Canadians. They were pretty jumpy at first, but that doesn't do any harm. The soldiers up there, they wanted to fire when the grass was moving and they did sometimes, without getting any orders. They got over that pretty soon. By the third night they were pretty well settled. Of course, they can shoot better than our men and they are bigger and stronger, but in some things we have the advantage. You Americans are much more excitable than we French." As a rule French and British officers were inclined to be optimistic about the Americans. They were impressed by their physique. The first of the Canadians were probably a little huskier than the Americans and the early contingents of Australians and New Zealanders were at least as good, but now all the rest are falling off in their physical standards on account of losses, while the most recent American arrivals in France are better than any of our earlier contingents. The American is potentially a good soldier, but it is a long cry of preëminence. Any nation which establishes itself as the best in the field will have to perform marvelous deeds. The chances are that nobody will touch the high water mark of the French. After all, in her finest moments, France has a positive genius for warfare. Her best troops possess a combination of patience in defense and dash in attack. France has a fighting tradition which we do not possess. We must gain that before we can rival her. From the point of view of the newspaperman the Frenchman is the ideal soldier of the world. Not only can he fight, but he can tell you about it. There is no trouble in getting a poilu to talk. He has opinions on every subject under the sun. The only difficulty is in understanding him once you have got him started. The doughboys, on the other hand, are usually reticent. They're always afraid of being detected in some sentimental or heroic pose and so they adopt a belittling attitude toward anything which happens as protection. The first men who came back from the trenches were not quite like that. These doughboys were more like Rossetti's angels. "The wonder was not yet quite gone from that still look" of theirs. They did not minimize their experiences. I think I understand now what Secretary Baker meant when he said that some of the most thrilling stories of the war would come in letters from the soldiers. We went to the major of a battalion which had just come back from the front to its billets. "No, nothing much happened while we were up there," he said. "They didn't shell us very hard; they didn't try any raids or any gas and the aeroplanes let us alone."