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 take—­well, 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, reasonable—­and 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?