with frightened
faces.

As we passed by the ancient Cloth Hall, the old Cathedral, and the
other splendid examples of Flemish architecture for which this town
was famed, I did not realise how soon the atmosphere of German
"frightfulness" was to reduce all these noble buildings to a heap of
ruins. Although to-day Ypres as a city has ceased to exist, I am
thankful to know that no German soldier has ever set foot within its
walls save as a prisoner. Here, as at Verdun, they did not pass; and
the glory is that of every soldier in the ranks.

On reaching the eastern exit of the town, on my way to Hooge, I was
stopped by a guard specially posted by First Corps Headquarters, with
orders to prevent anyone leaving the city.

Satisfying them as to my identity, I proceeded on my way. I had not
gone more than a mile when the traffic on the road began to
assume a most anxious and threatening appearance. It looked as if the
whole of the 1st Corps was about to fall back in confusion on Ypres.
Heavy howitzers were moving west at a trot--always a most significant
feature of a retreat--and ammunition and other wagons blocked the road
almost as far as the eye could see. In the midst of the press of
traffic, and along both sides of the road, crowds of wounded came
limping along as fast as they could go, all heading for Ypres. Shells
were screaming overhead and bursting with reverberating explosions in
the adjacent fields.

This spectacle filled me with misgiving and alarm. It was impossible
for my motor-car to proceed at any pace, so we alighted and covered
the rest of the way to Haig's Headquarters on foot, nor did I receive
any encouragement on the way to hope for better things.

The chateau of Hooge, where 1st Army Headquarters were situated, has
long since been erased from the face of the earth in the severe
fighting which had raged about it. But as I found it on that October
afternoon, it was a typical modern red brick chateau, approached by a
gate and a short avenue from the road. Shells were falling about the
place, and the chateau was already beginning to show the effects of
artillery fire.

I found Haig and John Gough, his Chief of Staff, in one of the rooms
on the ground floor, poring over maps and evidently much disconcerted.
But, though much perturbed in mind and very tired in body and brain,
Haig was cool and alert as ever.

Both he and Gough gave me a bad account of the state of affairs.

This is what happened on