let the Germans take a British gun,' and
with a cheer we fought on.... The Staffords came up and reinforced us.
Then I got hit, and retired.... But the guns were saved. When the last
of the six got through every one cheered like mad." One of the West
Kents also described the daring action of an officer. In the midst of
terrific fire, he walked calmly down the artillery line, putting our
lost guns out of action so that they would be useless to the Germans.

Even into the letters describing these gallant incidents there creep
frequent evidences of Atkins's unconquerable spirit and sense of humor.
Private R. Toomey, Royal Army Medical Corps, tells of an officer of the
Royal Irish shouting at the top of his voice, "Give 'em hell, boys, give
'em hell!" He had been wounded in the back by a lump of shrapnel, but,
says Toomey, "it was a treat to hear him shouting."

Most of these accounts refer to the weary days of the retirement from
Mons to Compiegne, a test of endurance that brought out the splendid
fighting qualities of officers and men alike. That retirement is
certainly one of the most masterly achievements of a war already
glorious for the exploits of British arms. Day after day our men had to
fall back, tired and hungry, exhausted from want of sleep, yet fighting
magnificently, and only impatient to begin the attack. This eagerness
for battle is in marked contrast to the spirit of the German troops, of
whom there is abundant evidence that the men have often to be driven
into action by the threatening swords and revolvers of their officers.

Francis Ryan, Northumberland Fusiliers, tells in the _Scotsman_ how
young lieutenant Smith-Dorrien pleaded to be allowed to remain with his
men in the trenches after a retirement had been ordered. The South
Staffordshires thought they were "getting along splendidly," says one of
the men, "until the General came and told us we must retreat or we would
be surrounded." The officer spoke very encouragingly, and praised his
men; but they were all so unwilling to yield ground that one of them,
expressing impatience, made a comment he would never have thought of
doing in peace time. The General only smiled.

This impatience pervaded all arms of the service. Some of the Highland
regiments began to grow grim and sullen, in spite of their play with the
bayonet; and the Irish corps became "unaisy." It was then that the
officers' fine spirit brought reassurance. This is how the King's Royal
R