ches holding a line which was of
necessity a great deal too long--a thin, exhausted line against
which the prime of the German first line troops were hurling
themselves with fury. The odds against them were about eight to
one, and when once the enemy found the range of a trench, the
shells dropped into it from one end to the other with the most
terrible effect. Yet the men stood firm and defended Ypres in
such a manner that a German officer afterwards described their
action as a brilliant feat of arms, and said that they were under
the impression that there had been four British Corps against
them at this point.

When the two Divisions were afterwards withdrawn from the firing
line to refit, it was found that in the Infantry alone, out of
the 400 officers who set out from England, there were only
forty-four left, and out of 12,000 men only 2,336. So far, little
has been published about the work of these Divisions--probably
because the bulk of the various dispatches is so great. It may be
well, therefore, to place on record now an achievement which will
one day be reckoned, no doubt, among the finest of the kind in
British military history.'

One's own view and conception of so huge a movement was necessarily
small, for in a 'far-flung battle line' the ordinary individual could
only see very little of the main operations. Yet the little I saw
revealed to me the splendid heroism of our men, and the carefully
thought out disposition of our troops; a heroism so perfect that one
attenuated line of khaki, consisting of under 30,000 men, held 240,000
Germans at bay. For a week this small force clung to their positions by
dint of magnificent fighting and dauntless pluck, until the main army
from the Aisne under General Sir John French joined forces with them.

During these stirring and most eventful days the scenes of ordinary life
often came before me in striking contrast to what was being thus enacted
in the very forefront of England's effort. For instance, sometimes amid
a very hell of noise and carnage, the thought of Regent Street or
Cheapside in their work-a-day aspect, or again, the peaceful
surroundings of 'home, sweet home,' would find a momentary lodgment in
my mind, only to be dispelled by the sounds and signs which betokened
that the sternest game of life was being played before my eyes. Each
hour seemed to promise the break of our lines by the vast masses