CHAPTER III THE LANDING OF THE FORCE "_Shall not thou and I, between Saint Dennis and Saint George, compound a boy, half French, half English, that shall go to Constantinople, and take the Turk by the beard?_" The dominant note in the reception which the French gave to the Force on landing was undoubtedly that of _relief_. Happy in showering little courtesies, surprised and delighted with everything British--all these, but it was relief which came uppermost in their minds. The feeling which the old pilot had expressed in his "comme ça va bien, maintenant." And as transport after transport slid quietly to her berth alongside the broad Rouen quays, discharged her freight of men, horses, guns, stores, lorries, and the countless trappings of a modern army, and then as quickly and noiselessly vacated the berth for her successor, so increased the wonder and delight of the good Normandy folk. That _les anglais_ should really have arrived was splendid enough, but that they should also bring with them their own food and cooking arrangements--"mais c'est tonnant! et quelle organisation!" Everyone spoke in admiring comment about it. And how Rouen crowded down to the quays or out to the rest camps to watch _les anglais_ cooking their dinners! Army stores those few days were sadly depleted of tins of jam, biscuits and "grocery ration." How could one refuse the hungry look in the eye of a motherly matron as she espied a packet of the famous English tea? And the children! We learned for the first time how hungry children could be when they saw biscuits and jam. Make a fuss of the kiddies and you have won the mothers! And if you have won the mothers and women of France you have conquered "la belle France" herself. And _les anglais_ conquered France in those few days at the French ports. The happiest of victories, and one which augured well for the future. Nothing pleased the French more than British courtesy and gentleness to women and children; and their kindness to and care of their horses. British love of personal cleanliness, and the unfailing cheeriness of the men, these have, of course, long since become proverbial. But then it was all new to France, almost to the world, and so one records these things as first impressions. And the Scotties. Everyone knows how the lads from north of the Tweed made sad havoc among French hearts. Have they not always done so since Frenchmen and Scotsmen first clasped hands in alliance? If a Scotsman was asked once a day whether he wore anything under his kilt he was asked a hundred times. And truth compels me to add that it was generally the ladies who put the question. What the answer was I never found out. I imagine that our lads were not sorry to hide their blushes in the troop trains which carried them forward to the frontier.