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worshipper in the presence of the Great Image。 I was so moved by
the common humanity of them all that in each case I broke away
from the discreet interpretations of de Tessin and talked to them
directly in the strange dialect which I have inadvertently made
for myself out of French； a disemvowelled speech of epicene
substantives and verbs of incalculable moods and temperaments；
〃/Entente Cordiale。/〃 The talked back as if we had met in a
club。 General Pelle pulled my leg very gaily with some
quotations from an article I had written upon the conclusion of
the war。 I think he found my accent and my idioms very
refreshing。 I had committed myself to a statement that Bloch has
been justified in his theory that under modern conditions the
defensive wins。 There were excellent reasons； and General
Pelle pointed them out； for doubting the applicability of
this to the present war。
Both he and General Castelnau were anxious that I should see a
French offensive sector as well as Soissons。 Then I should
understand。 And since then I have returned from Italy and I have
seen and I do understand。 The Allied offensive was winning； that
is to say； it was inflicting far greater losses than it
experienced； it was steadily beating the spirit out of the German
army and shoving it back towards Germany。 Only peace can； I
believe； prevent the western war ending in Germany。 And it is
the Frenchmen mainly who have worked out how to do it。
But of that I will write later。 My present concern is with
General Joffre as the antithesis of the Effigy。 The effigy；
〃Thou Prince of Peace；
Thou God of War；〃
as Mr。 Sylvester Viereck called him； prances on a great horse；
wears a Wagnerian cloak； sits on thrones and talks of shining
armour and 〃unser Gott。〃 All Germany gloats over his Jovian
domesticities； when I was last in Berlin the postcard shops were
full of photographs of a sort of procession of himself and his
sons； all with long straight noses and sidelong eyes。 It is all
dreadfully old…fashioned。 General Joffre sits in a pleasant
little sitting…room in a very ordinary little villa conveniently
close to Headquarters。 He sits among furniture that has no
quality of pose at all； that is neither magnificent nor
ostentatiously simple and hardy。 He has dark； rather sleepy eyes
under light eyelashes； eyes that glance shyly and a little
askance at his interlocutor and then； as he talks； awayas if he
did not want to be preoccupied by your attention。 He has a
broad； rather broadly modelled face； a soft voice； the sort of
persuasive reasoning voice that many Scotchmen have。 I had a
feeling that if he were to talk English he would do so with a
Scotch accent。 Perhaps somewhere I have met a Scotchman of his
type。 He sat sideways to his table as a man might sit for a
gossip in a cafe。
He is physically a big man； and in my memory he grows bigger and
bigger。 He sits now in my memory in a room like the rooms that
any decent people might occupy； like that vague room that is the
background of so many good portraits； a great blue…coated figure
with a soft voice and rather tired eyes； explaining very simply
and clearly the difficulties that this vulgar imperialism of
Germany； seizing upon modern science and modern appliances； has
created for France and the spirit of mankind。
He talked chiefly of the strangeness of this confounded war。 It
was exactly like a sanitary engineer speaking of the unexpected
difficulties of some particularly nasty inundation。 He made
little stiff horizontal gestures with his hands。 First one had
to build a dam and stop the rush of it； so； then one had to
organise the push that would send it back。 He explained the
organisation of the push。 They had got an organisation now that
was working out most satisfactorily。 Had I seen a sector？ I had
seen the sector of Soissons。 Yes； but that was not now an
offensive sector。 I must see an offensive sector； see the whole
method。 Lieutenant de Tessin must see that that was arranged。。。。
Neither he nor his two colleagues spoke of the Germans with
either hostility or humanity。 Germany for them is manifestly
merely an objectionable Thing。 It is not a nation； not a people；
but a nuisance。 One has to build up this great counter…thrust
bigger and stronger until they go back。 The war must end in
Germany。 The French generals have no such delusions about German
science or foresight or capacity as dominates the smart dinner
chatter of England。 One knows so well that detestable type of
English folly； and its voice of despair： 〃They /plan/
everything。 They foresee everything。〃 This paralysing
Germanophobia is not common among the French。 The war； the
French generals said； might takewell； it certainly looked like
taking longer than the winter。 Next summer perhaps。 Probably；
if nothing unforeseen occurred； before a full year has passed the
job might be done。 Were any surprises in store？ They didn't
seem to think it was probable that the Germans had any surprises
in store。。。。 The Germans are not an inventive people； they are
merely a thorough people。 One never knew for certain。
Is any greater contrast possible than between so implacable；
patient； reasonableand above all things /capable/a being
as General Joffre and the rhetorician of Potsdam； with his talk
of German Might； of Hammer Blows and Hacking Through？ Can there
be any doubt of the ultimate issue between them？
There are stories that sound pleasantly true to me about General
Joffre's ambitions after the war。 He is tired； then he will be
very tired。 He will； he declares； spend his first free summer in
making a tour of the waterways of France in a barge。 So I hope
it may be。 One imagines him as sitting quietly on the crumpled
remains of the last and tawdriest of Imperial traditions； with a
fishing line in the placid water and a large buff umbrella
overhead； the good ordinary man who does whatever is given to him
to doas well as he can。 The power that has taken the great
effigy of German imperialism by the throat is something very
composite and complex； but if we personify it at all it is
something more like General Joffre than any other single human
figure I can think of or imagine。
If I were to set a frontispiece to a book about this War I would
make General Joffre the frontispiece。
4
As we swung back along the dusty road to Paris at a pace of fifty
miles an hour and upwards； driven by a helmeted driver with an
aquiline profile fit to go upon a coin； whose merits were a
little flawed by a childish and dangerous ambition to run over
every cat he saw upon the road； I talked to de Tessin about this
big blue…coated figure of Joffre； which is not so much a figure
as a great generalisation of certain hitherto rather obscured
French qualities； and of the impression he had made upon me。 And
from that I went on to talk about the Super Man； for this
encounter had suddenly crystallised out a set of realisations
that had been for some time latent in my mind。
How much of what follows I said to de Tessin at the time I do not
clearly remember； but this is what I had in mind。
The idea of the superman is