British Generals in the field.

An Officer hurriedly got out, and held open the door with great
deference, while a second alighted. The Subaltern easily recognised
both. The first was the Chief of the General Staff--Sir Archibald
Murray. He was a figure of middle height, with a slight stoop, and slow
movements. His face was kindly, mobile--not at all the conventional
military face. The mouth was tight shut, as if to suppress all the
little humours and witticisms that teemed in the quick blue eyes.

The other figure, short and dapper in build, quick and nervous in
motion, need not be described. The blue eyes, the pink skin and white
hair of the Field-Marshal Commanding-in-Chief are known wherever our
language is spoken.

Two of the Colonels came forward and saluted as only a senior officer
can. A private salutes like a machine; a subaltern is awkward, but a
senior officer manages somehow to insinuate into this simple movement
deference and admiration, backed, as it were, with determination and
self-reliance.

It is as if he were to say: "I have the greatest esteem for you as a
great man. I admire your brain and breeding, and will execute your
commands with the precision and promptitude that they deserve. But in a
lesser sort of way I am just the same, a great man; do not forget it!"

And in response the salute of the great man seems to say: "I heartily
appreciate the deference which you have shown me, and honour it the more
as it comes from such a man as you." Like the bow of a Versailles
courtier, it has its finer points, and is not to be learnt either soon