Pen Portraits of Our Fighting Friends
from a French serial history magazine - the King of Rumania - Rumanian soldiers
For a contrast in soldiering "form" there could be no better illustration than the doings of the different armies in Rumania.
While
the middle army went to pieces before the onslaughts of the Huns, the
northern army put up such a fight as to paralyse a German army in their
attempt to force the mountain passes and make them seek out another way
for themselves. The resistance put up by the Rumanian northern army may
rank, in fact, in military excellence with anything that has been done
by any of the allied ' armies during the war. It was splendid work.
In
the excellent fighting form displayed by the men of that northern army
of Rumania is to be found, in my opinion, the "true fighting form" of
the Rumanian soldier. The collapse of the middle army may seem, at the
moment, to cast some doubt on this estimate ; but I feel sure that when
the full facts of the Rumanian campaign are revealed, the responsibility
for the middle army defeat will not lie at the door of the Rumanian
soldier.
Of Roman Fighting Stock
He
comes of a curious fighting stock, and is really a relic of the old
Roman soldier at his best. For while the soldiers of later Rome were
sapping their manhood by easy living and little fighting, the Romans in
this remote colony in Rumania were having a hard time in defending their
lives against all the many savage peoples who surrounded them. It is
probable, therefore, that the Roman soldier, at his best, existed to a
later day in Rumania than in any other place. Certain it is that the
Roman character of Rumania and its people has never been extinguished,
and they have thriven for centuries, a Latin people still, though,
surrounded by people of different stock and often overrun by these
peoples. It is only your extra hardy race that can remain intact in such
circumstances. Hardy fighters and hardy breeders — the Rumanians are
both.
The Rumanian soldiers I knew best, during my stay of several
months in that country last year, were officers; but while I was living
with one of them I was lent a Rumanian soldier as "batman," or servant.
Nicolai, the Typical
He was so typical of the Rumanian peasant
soldier at his best that I will describe him. I woke on the first
morning of my visit to find him standing by my bed. He seemed to have
been waiting for me to wake. He bowed his head - very solemnly, and then
when I nodded encouragingly he gave a good, honest grin, revealing a
row of perfect teeth, just slightly yellow. His deep brown eyes
twinkled, and he bowed again and held out his palms in token .that he
was waiting to do anything I wanted. He was over middle height and
strongly built. He wore a grey-blue uniform of a rough serge cloth. On
his head was a queer tall hat, the shape of a dunce's cap, made of white
fleecy skin — probably the skin of a young sheep. This hat he always
wore in the house, but when he went out of doors he substituted for it a
peaked uniform cap of blue-grey cloth, the crown of which was tilted
fore and aft into little mounds — something after the fashion of the
caps the Belgian soldiers wear. He had no boots in the sense that we
know them. Instead, his feet and his legs from the calf downwards, were
swathed in long wrappings of white woollen cloth. These home-made
"puttees" he would wear for all normal occasions, but on the march he
would add a pair of home-made leather foot coverings like moccasins. I
believe that many Rumanian regiments have been fitted with western
boots, but the home-made moccasin of cowhide is still more popular.
The
men will march miles in this footwear without foot trouble of any kind.
Once
when Nicolai — for that was the servant's name — unfastened his tunic I
noticed that his shirt was of white cotton cloth covered with red and
black needle-work flowers. The .peasants are very fond of this kind of
needlework, and in civil life nearly all their garments are profusely
embroidered. They make their own cloth at home and their women embroider
it.
Nicolai and I did our talking in a mixture of English,
French, German, and Latin; for which last- named tongue I had to dig
deep into the remoter recesses of memory and hark back to school days.
Thus, if I wanted water I would begin "water." If that had no effect I
would try "eau." If that left him still shrugging his shoulders we went
on to "wasser." Still a shrug, and I would try "aqua," and at that his
face would light up and off he would dash for water.
Rumanian infantry and mountain troops
Frugal Fare
So
often it was quicker to try Latin first, but not always. Many of the
Rumanian words are borrowed from the Slav languages, and bear no
resemblance to the Roman tongue. But for the fact that Nicolai, like
most Rumanians, had picked up a few words of French and German, we
should often have been at a loss.
The Rumanian captain with whom I
was staying had seen all the Armies of Europe, and had been with both
the German and the French Armies for training. He was in a fair
position, therefore, to make comparisons, and he assured me that for
hardiness and willingness there was no soldier of the big Continental
armies who was better than the Rumanian. He went so far as to say that
if it came to marching on "short commons," he would "back" the Rumanian
soldier against any other. "I have known them go two days and a night
with nothing but water," he said, "and never a man fall out." I myself
have seen them arriving at a destination after a march of twenty miles
with full packs through hilly and difficult country, and yet be smiling
and cheery.. The regiment I have in mind was my host's own regiment, and
the men were singing together in excellent harmony. It was some
patriotic fighting song they were singing.
Later, my friend
explained to me that he himself taught his men to sing. He had a "song
parade" every now and again and taught his men tunes and the harmonies
to them — allocating certain men for each part — tenor and bass. These
songs they sang when on the march, and the result, said the captain, was
that his men marched not only in better order but with less fatigue. He
had a song parade once for my especial benefit, and his men sang a
number of songs as well as a Welsh regiment would have sung them. They
seemed to like it too.
The Rumanian soldiers' food and quarters
would probably bring about a mutiny in a British . regiment. Plain bread
is the main article of food. There are meat dishes occasionally ; but
such luxuries as jam, butter, bacon, tea, and the like are unknown.
"Marmalega," a pudding made of boiled maize, is a dish on which a
Rumanian soldier may have to march for miles. In war-time a soldier may
carry his rations with him — a loaf of bread.
There is a great
contrast between the Rumanian soldier and his officer. For while the
soldier is a plain fellow, his officers, as often as not, are very
decorative people. There are probably no more dashing uniforms in Europe
than those of the Red and the Black Hussars of Rumania.
Officers of Greek Origin
The
picturesque young "blades" who "officer" these regiments certainly gave
one the impression, as one saw them parading past the famous Cafe Capsa
in Bukarest, that their function in life was to be ornamental rather
than warlike ; but I am assured that even the "prettiest" and most
powdered of them have fought with amazing courage. Remembering the case
of our own Piccadilly "bloods" who, giving up the study of socks and
ties, went to the war and acquitted themselves like men, I can believe
that this is true. Still, the Rumanian officer, as a rule, is not quite
of the same hardy stock as the Rumanian peasant, for he is drawn more
from the landed classes, and these classes have much more Greek blood in
their veins than the peasant classes. Enterprising Greeks in the old
days obtained from the all-conquering Turks the right to work estates in
Rumania for their own gain. Thus, the peasants got Greek masters, and
to this day the Greek blood lingers in the ruling classes.
Men and their Master
You
do not realise how recently the Rumanian peasantry have emerged from
serfdom until you see their bearing before their rulers and overlords.
They show a wonderful humility. Strong men and brave as they are they
will stand with head bowed and bare before a child of the upper classes.
There is something of the same humility about the Rumanian soldier
before his officers. I remember the shock that poor Nicolai gave me
when, on parting, I gave him a few shillings by way of. a tip. He fell
on one knee, seized my hand, and before I knew what he was about, he
kissed it. That it seems, is customary. When giving my parting gift to
the housemaid of the establishment, a shy creature dressed in beautiful
native costume, but with neither shoes nor stockings, and with her hair
braided in plaits down her back, I placed my little offering on the
table and, pointing to it, beckoned her to take it. She bowed her
thanks, and repeated in Rumanian the formula for such an occasion, which
is, "Oh, master, I kiss your hand !"
And, incidentally, I believe
that that little bare-legged serving-maid is now wife to soldier
Nicolai. I trust he has fared well in the ware.
several arms of service in the Rumanian army
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