In search of recruits, French Foreign Legion goes online


AUBAGNE, France: Haebaru Sigo cannot pronounce the French Foreign Legion's unofficial motto "March or Die," yet he made it his own when he left Tokyo for Paris to enlist as a legionnaire.
His long march began with Internet recruitment in Japan, his home country, although technically the storied Foreign Legion is barred from casting for candidates beyond the borders of France.
But these are revolutionary times for the force, which was created by King Louis-Philippe in 1831. Through savvy online recruiting in 13 languages, using war-play video downloads with a rock 'n' roll beat, the Foreign Legion and its once largely European troops are emerging as a force for globalization.
Fresh recruits trooping to its headquarters in Aubagne, just east of Marseille in southern France, are an e- mail generation of legionnaires who first explored joining the force online from their homes in places like Venezuela, Japan and China.
Since the 8,000-man legion started running its Web sites in 2001, the composition of the force has shifted. Latin Americans now make up 25 percent of the force, up from 15 percent, while the Asian presence has increased to 8 percent from 6 percent.
China, in particular, has been a new source of candidates, who are attracted by the legion's promise of a French passport as well as room and board and a stable income starting at €1,030, or about $1,300, per month.
"The Internet has really been a mini- revolution for the Foreign Legion," Lieutenant Colonel Christian Rascle, a spokesman for the force.
This year, about 600,000 visitors have sampled the legion's Web site, www.legion-etrangere.com, which promises a new life regardless of nationality, religion or education. The legion also offers musical clips of traditional legion marching songs like "Adieu Old Europe," screen savers and an online shop selling green berets and camouflage T-shirts.
In turn, readers have sent in almost 40,000 e-mails asking about the legion's culture, from what is the common language (French, of course) to prospective romances for new privates (legionnaires are single, officially at least).
Inspired by downloadable songs and chat forums, some eager correspondents seek to enlist by e-mail, but Web advisers urge restraint: "Enlistment is a serious act. Come to the legion's headquarters in Aubagne."
Sigo, 23, made that trip from Japan after browsing the legion's sites and buying a plane ticket for Paris. By the time he arrived in Aubagne, in late September, he knew enough broken English and French to express an ageless motive for enlisting: "The challenge. Got in fight with family and friends."
turned to the Web, where he was inspired to head to Aubagne. "I liked the photos and the idea of a new adventure," as well as the prospect of a passport, he said.
Online outreach has proved so effective that the legion is considering closing recruiting offices in smaller French cities, allowing it to experiment with new approaches - like its recruiting truck that trolls the touristy beaches of France, emblazoned with the Web address.
"We constantly evolve," said Colonel Vincent Le Cour Grandmaison, chief of staff of the legion's general headquarters. "The Internet has really opened the way for us to reach the globe."
The online strategy is a dramatic shift from the legion's more passive traditional approach of posting posters in railroad stations while waiting for social, economic and political turmoil to push recruits its way. After the Spanish Civil War ended in 1939, for instance, Spanish enlistment soared, only to dwindle in contemporary times as Spain prospered with European Union membership.
By far the lowest contingent remains English-speaking recruits - just 2 percent are from the United States and Britain. According to legion officials, this is due not to cultural antagonisms, but rather because American and British applicants have trouble passing endurance tests that emphasize lower body strength and running.
Indeed, for every eight candidates considered by the legion, seven are rejected following three weeks of physical examinations and "security and motivation" interviews in Aubagne by no- nonsense internal investigators nicknamed "the Gestapo."
"Why do we use the Internet when we have so many candidates?" Rascle said. "Simple: it's a way of improving recruitment by targeting a broader group. The more candidates that we have arrive at our doors, the better our choices."
The legion's legend - spread by various movie versions of "Beau Geste" and the testosterone-driven memoirs of former legionnaires - is that the force will harbor candidates who have already jettisoned the past.
The reality, however, is that the legion is careful with its gift of new identities, first demanding passports and vetting recruits with the law enforcement authorities like Interpol to weed out men with criminal convictions for violent assaults or sexual abuse.
Even bad teeth can disqualify prospective candidates because the legion is unwilling to spend on dental work before a recruit is accepted. Taira Koji, 36, a former worker in a ball-bearings factory in Tokyo, discovered this when he presented himself to the legion in June. He spent the next three months in Paris getting his teeth treated, he said. By late September, he had made it to Aubagne for the first stage of examination.
"I have a dream to be a legionnaire," said Koji, who knows little French, but yearns to wear the képi blanc, the legion's stiff white cap.
The caps are exhibited at the force's Aubagne museum, but the historic displays and battle paintings also underscore the harsh side of life - and death - for a legionnaire. In the long, bloody history of the Foreign Legion, 35,000 men have died in combat, the last in Haiti in 2004.
Given that history, the most frequent question that recruiting officers pose to candidates is blunt: "Are you sure you want to become a legionnaire?"
Jaime Salazar, an American who joined the force, thought he knew the answer when he enlisted in 1999 out of boredom with his engineering job in Texas. He lasted less than a year before deserting, ultimately writing a memoir, "Legion of the Lost," last year.
His biggest complaint was that he was expecting rigorous adventure, but instead found new boredom. "A lot of life in the Foreign Legion is just stupid work, tedious as sweeping areas the size of football fields," he said.
"My advice," he added, "would be to be very clear about what you expect or want. Look past the glossy brochures and do the research."
Simon Murray, an ex-legionnaire and founder of a private equity firm, General Enterprise Management Services, in Hong Kong, also published a memoir of his life in the legion that was turned into a 2000 movie, "Simon: An English Legionnaire."
His guidance for a new recruit comes straight from "Beau Geste."
"My advice is that the legion is for people who bolt," he said. "You run for the Foreign Legion. You don't talk to everybody and say what do I do? This is not a business proposition. The legion is straight out the window into the fire."
One legionnaire from China, who took a new identity, Jianhuang Xue, when he joined in 2001, takes a more sentimental view of his march with the Legion. "I'm happy," he said in French. "I know the legion is like a family." He just signed up to stay with the family for another five years.
Recent Comments