not. Many
German soldiers have told me that there was a universal longing for the
war to end--but they seem to wonder at your asking them what they
think, or what their people in Germany think--as though it mattered one
straw. They tell you, in a detached sort of way, that a great many of
their people in Germany are tired of the war. "But they have no
influence on these matters," they say, "nor have the soldiers. We do not
meet together--we have nothing to say with it. They would go on with the
war all next year even if a million more men are killed--they will bring
back all the wounded, and the sick, if necessary."

The German who used those words seemed to have no quarrel with those who
were driving his country, and no pride in them--he did not approve and
he did not disapprove. He seemed to accept them as part of the
unquestioned, unchangeable laws of his existence; they were there--and
what business was it of his to interfere with them?

One can scarcely see a gleam of hope for them in the attitude of their
prisoners--a people that cannot rebel. But perhaps it is unfair to
judge.

For these men, whom we now see, have been at long, long last through the
fire of guns heavier than their own; and through the mud of Le Barque.

CHAPTER XXXII

THE NEW DRAFT

_France, December 11th._

A fair-sized shell recently arrived in a certain front trench held by
Australians in France. It exploded, and an Australian found himself
struggling amongst some debris in No Man's Land. He tried to haul
himself clear, but the tumbled rubbish kept him down; and, as often as
he was seen to move, bullets whizzed past him from a green slope near
by. The green slope ran like a low railway embankment along the other
side of the unkempt paddock between the trenches. It was the German
front line.

Finally one of his mates, I am told, jumped over to his help and dragged
him clear. When he got in he asked to be put into the very next party
that should visit the German trenches. He wanted his own back.

He was one of the newest Australians. That is exactly the sort of
request that would have been made by the oldest ones.

We have seen the newest Australian draft in France, and the verdict from
first to last amongst those who know them is, "They will do." There is
always a certain amount of chaff thrown out by the oldest Australians at
the latest arrivals. The sort of Australian who used to talk about our
"tinpot navy" labelled the