over a bridge called Marmont Bridge, and runs
northward along the valley of the Ancre within sight of the railway.
Just beyond the Marmont Bridge there is a sort of lake or reservoir or
catchment of the Ancre overflows, a little to the right of the road.
By looking across this lake as he walks northward, the traveller can
see some rolls of gentle chalk hill, just beyond which the English
front line ran at the beginning of the battle.

A little further on, at the top of a rise, the road passes the village
of Aveluy, where there is a bridge or causeway over the Ancre valley.
Aveluy itself, being within a mile and a half of enemy gun positions
for nearly two years of war, is knocked about, and rather roofless and
windowless. A cross-road leading to the causeway across the valley
once gave the place some little importance.

[Illustration: The Road up the Ancre Valley through Aveluy Wood]

Not far to the north of Aveluy, the road runs for more than a mile
through the Wood of Aveluy, which is a well-grown plantation of trees
and shrubs. This wood hides the marsh of the river from the traveller.
Tracks from the road lead down to the marsh and across it by military
causeways.

On emerging from the wood, the road runs within hail of the railway,
under a steep and high chalk bank partly copsed with scrub.
Three-quarters of a mile from the wood it passes through the skeleton
of the village of Hamel, which is now a few ruined walls of brick
standing in orchards on a hillside. Just north of this village,
crossing the road, the railway, and the river-valley, is the old
English front line.

The third of the four roads is one of the main roads of France. It is
the state highway, laid on the line of a Roman road, from Albert to
Bapaume. It is by far the most used and the most important of the
roads crossing the battlefield. As it leads directly to Bapaume, which
was one of the prizes of the victory, and points like a sword through
the heart of the enemy positions it will stay in the memories of our
soldiers as the main avenue of the battle.

The road leaves Albert in a street of dingy and rather broken
red-brick houses. After passing a corner crucifix it shakes itself
free of the houses and rises slowly up a ridge of chalk hill about
three hundred feet high. On the left of the road, this ridge, which is
much withered and trodden by troops and horses, is called Usna Hill.
On the right, where the grass is green and the chalk of t