Part 31

"I have some news for you, General. You are appointed Director of the Ecole de Guerre."

"But I am not a candidate, sir," replied Foch, taken completely by surprise.

"Possibly not," replied the Premier drily, "but you are appointed nevertheless, and I am sure you will do good work there."

"I thank you for the honor," said Foch with some embarrassment, "but aren't there--difficulties? I am a Churchman, you know."

Clemenceau laughed.

"Probably you are not aware," continued Foch, finding it difficult to proceed, "that one of my brothers is a Jesuit."

Clemenceau laughed again.

"I know all about it, and I don't care a rap," he answered. "Mon General, or rather, Monsieur le Directeur, you may consider yourself appointed, Jesuit or no Jesuit. We need men of your stamp to train up officers in our army."

Foch held this responsible position for several years just preceding the Great War. Whether he saw it or not, lowering upon the horizon, he bent every effort to making the command of the French army fit, ready for any emergency. He had never forgotten the dreadful invasion of his boyhood days. With him the teaching of preparedness was almost as sacred as religion.

And when the Great War at last descended, Foch was like a shining sword in its path, one that had never been allowed to rust in its scabbard. The story of his dogged perseverance and his brilliant strategy has been fully told in the annals of war. Two or three strongly characteristic points yet demand mention. He was a firm believer in the element of surprise; he outguessed the enemy. And he never knew when he was beaten.

"The weaker we are, the more important it is for us to attack," is one of his famous sayings.

At the Battle of the Marne, when his corps was hard pressed at a critical salient, he telegraphed Joffre:

"My left flank has been driven in. My right flank has been driven in. Consequently nothing remains but for me to attack with my center."

And attack he did, hurling back the surprised Teutons and aiding Joffre to turn the invader, and save Paris.

Foch, in brief, is a soldier of the intellectual type. His headquarters when at last he was made Marshal of France and Generalissimo of the Allied forces, resembled a classroom more nearly than the center of a vast and far-reaching activity. There was no bustle, no confusion. Orderlies pored over papers and presented reports quietly. The commander looked them over with keen appraising glance, then issued orders without raising his voice. But that very quietness and precision pronounced the doom of Germany. It was a triumph of science over brute force.

If in America we have had a "schoolmaster in politics," the French have had a "schoolmaster in war"--one who taught the Hun a lesson!

IMPORTANT DATES IN FOCH'S LIFE

1851. October 2. Ferdinand Foch born. 1862. Entered school, Tarbes, France. 1867. Entered Jesuit College of St. Michel. 1870. Volunteered in the Franco-Prussian War, but saw no service. 1871. Entered the Polytechnic Academy. 1873. Second-lieutenant in artillery. 1878. Captain. Married Julie Bienvenue. 1885. Entered Ecole de Guerre, a college for staff officers. 1891. Major in artillery. 1900. Lieutenant-colonel. Professor in Ecole de Guerre. 1905. Director of Ecole de Guerre. 1914. General, in command 20th corps. 1917. Chief of general staff. 1918. Commander-in-chief of Allied forces. 1918. Marshal of France.

PERSHING

THE LEADER OF AMERICA'S BIGGEST ARMY

It was a historic moment, on that June day, in the third year of the World War. On the landing stage at the French harbor of Boulogne was drawn up a company of French soldiers, who looked eagerly at the approaching steamer. They were not dress parade soldiers nor smart cadets--only battle-scarred veterans home from the trenches, with the tired look of war in their eyes. For three years they had been hoping and praying that the Americans would come--and here they were at last!

As the steamer slowly approached the dock, a small group of officers might be discerned, looking as eagerly landward as the men on shore had sought them out. In the center of this group stood a man in the uniform of a General in the United States Army. There was, however, little to distinguish his dress from that of his staff, except the marks of rank on his collar, and the service ribbons across his breast. To those who could read the insignia, they spelled many days of arduous duty in places far removed. America was sending a seasoned soldier, one tried out as by fire.

The man's face was seamed from exposure to the suns of the tropics and the sands of the desert. But his dark eyes glowed with the untamable fire of youth. He was full six feet in height, straight, broad-shouldered, and muscular. The well-formed legs betrayed the old-time calvalryman. The alert poise of the man showed a nature constantly on guard against surprise--the typical soldier in action.

Such was General Pershing when he set foot on foreign shore at the head of an American army--the first time in history that our soldiers had ever served on European soil. America was at last repaying to France her debt of gratitude, for aid received nearly a century and a half earlier. And it was an Alsatian by descent who could now say:

"Lafayette, we come!"

Who was this man who had been selected for so important a task? The eyes of the whole world were upon him, when he reached France. His was a task of tremendous difficulties, and a single slip on his part would have brought shame upon his country, no less than upon himself. That he was to succeed, and to win the official thanks of Congress are now matters of history. The story of his wonderful campaign against the best that Germany could send against him is also an oft-told story. But the rise of the man himself to such commanding position is a tale not so familiar, yet none the less interesting.

The great-grandfather of General Pershing was an emigrant from Alsace--fleeing as a boy from the military service of the Teutons. He worked his way across to Baltimore, and not long thereafter volunteered to fight in the American Revolution. His was the spirit of freedom. He fled to escape a service that was hateful, because it represented tyranny; but was glad to serve in the cause of liberty.

The original family name was Pfirsching, but was soon shortened to its present form. The Pershings got land grants in Pennsylvania, and began to prosper. As the clan multiplied the sons and grandsons began to scatter. They had the pioneer spirit of their ancestors.