a young aide
who, in army jargon, was known as a "crock"; that is, he had been
invalided as the result of wounds or exposure in the trenches and,
though unfit for active service, could still serve as aide to the
Commander-in-Chief. At the appointed minute of the hour, in keeping with
military punctuality, whether of generals or of curtains of fire, a man
with iron-gray hair, clear, kindly eyes, and an unmistakably strong
chin, came out of his office and welcomed the guests with simple
informality. He seemed to have left business entirely behind when he
left his desk. You knew him at once for the type of well-preserved
British officer who never neglects to keep himself physically fit. It
amounts to a talent with British officers to have gone through campaigns
in India and South Africa and yet always to appear as fresh as if they
had never known anything more strenuous than the leisurely life of an
English country gentleman.

I had always heard how hard Sir Douglas Haig worked, just as I had heard
how hard Sir William Robertson worked. Sir Douglas, too, showed no signs
of pressure, and naturally the masterful control of surroundings without
any seeming effort is a part of the equipment of military leaders. The
power of the modern general is not evident in any of the old symbols.

It was really the army that chose Sir Douglas to be Commander-in-Chief.
Whenever the possibility of the retirement of Sir John French was
mentioned and you asked an officer who should take his place, the answer
was always either Robertson or Haig. In any profession the members
should be the best judges of excellence in that profession, and through
eighteen months of organizing and fighting these two men had earned the
universal praise of their comrades in arms. Robertson went to London and
Haig remained in France. England looked to them for victory.

Birth was kind to Sir Douglas. He came of an old Scotch family with fine
traditions. Oxford followed almost as a matter of course for him and
afterward he went into the army. From that day there is something in
common between his career and Sir William's, simple professional zeal
and industry. They set out to master their chosen calling. Long before
the public had ever heard of either one their ability was known to their
fellow soldiers. No two officers were more averse to any form of public
advertisement, which was contrary to their instincts no less than to the
ethics of soldiering. In South Afri