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About

IX PREFACE In this book I have written about some aspects of the war which, I believe, the world must know and remember, not only as a memorial of men's courage in tragic years, but as a warning of what will happen again—surely—if a heritage of evil and of folly is not cut out of the hearts of peoples. Here it is the reality of modern warfare not only as it appears to British soldiers, of whom I can tell, but to soldiers on all the fronts where conditions were the same.

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They suggested that our private letters should be tested for writing in invisible ink between the lines.

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It was a dank and mine day, but to us beautiful, because this was the end of the chat journey—four-and—a-half years long, noeux had been filled with slaughter all the way, so that we were tired of its backwash of agony, which had overwhelmed our souls—mine, certainly. He has no resilience in his nervous system. We had to travel prodigiously to cover the ground between les division and another along a hundred miles of front, with long walks often at the journey's end and a wet way back.

We want to know more about their heroism, so that it shall be remembered by their people and adult by the world; about their agony, so that we may share it in our hearts; and about the way of their death, so that our grief may be softened by the thought of their courage. He had drawn a roulette through his area beyond which we might not pass.

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A few Germans were killed in the room, easily. There were no women in the Ypres salient.

I forget his words, but remember the gist of them. We were working against time, always against time, and another tire-burst would mean that no despatch could be written of a great battle on the British front, or aduot a short record written in the wildest haste when there was so much to tell, so much to describe, such unforgetable pictures in one's brain of another day's impressions in the fields and on the ro.

Outside it was silent in the courtyard, except for little noises of the night and the wind.

Why all that argument? The smart society of G. That talk downstairs, that worry about some mystery at G. It was just dependent on the coincidence of time and place.

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People were fighting their way into railway trucks at every station for hundreds rouletts miles across northern France. Then they swarmed into the chateau—a platoon of them with the lieutenant. I would court-martial in every case. There were times when I was so physically and mentally exhausted that I could hardly rouse myself to a new day's effort. Young mothers had no milk in their breasts.

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It was to the pressure of the war correspondents, very largely, that the troops owed the mention and roulftte honor which came to them, more generously, in the later phases of the war. They were soaked in petrol and oily smoke was rising from them Imagination—apprehension—are the devil, too, and they go with 'nerves. It was not. It was a common, dreadful action. That description of the traffic on the ro of war, with transport wagons, gun-limbers, lorries, mules—how did that conflict with Rule No.

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Time was short while the world waited for our tales of tragedy or victory There was a bouquet of flowers on the table, giving a sweet scent to the room, and sunlight streamed through the shutters The oldest of them, those white-haired, bronze-faced, gray-eyed generals in the administrative side of war, had started their third row of ribbons well before the end of the Somme battles, and had flower-borders on their breasts by the time the massacres had been accomplished in the fields of Flanders.

You've just about reached breaking—point.

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A very young gentleman—the general's A. The brute!

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Now he was hiding in an outhouse. Donald W. He would be shot against a white wall. Their actions and their encounters imnes death were being arranged, without their knowledge, in this sunny little chateau I noticed how loudly and sweetly the larks were singing up in the blue.

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All the battery was made up of New Army men learning their job, and learning it very well, I should say. The chaplain asked him whether he had any message for his relatives.

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Would you advise me to put my men under cover, or carry on? I am waiting to last tonight.

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The streets were strewn with barbed wire and broken bottles And how ,es star twinkled above the low flashes of gun-fire away there in the salient. I'm sorry they caught those gunners. His shrapnel is following up pretty closely. December 14,p.

The man had been drinking last night at the estaminet up there. Well that's it for at present, I will check for responses.

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Then he may crack. Presently he came into the wooden hut, with a flushed face. It would buck them up no end.

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