So it came about that when the German Army was still comparatively powerful for defence and capable of deter mined resistance, it had to do without the aid of fortifi cations, and was so badly battered that by the time it had retired as far as the formidable defensive systems which had previously defied all the Allied efforts, its moral and material strength was so impaired that it could not hold them. But the rapidity and incessancy of the Allied attacks was responsible for the fact that this withdrawal was carried out hastily and in much disorder, so that the wearied Germans got no rest, lost heavily in men and material, and saw their reserves swiftly dwindling, as they were drawn into the fight to gain time or stave off disasters Had they been able to fall back to the Hindenburg Linea at their leisure and under cover of strong rearguards; had the Allies not followed them up hotly, redoubling blow upon blow, but allowed their adversaries to break away and regain control of their own movements, the rapid over running of the far-famed defensive zones would not have been possible.

That the Allied Armies were themselves feeling the effects of their gigantic efforts during the past three years was evident from the first moments of the fighting in 1918, and by the conclusion of hostilities their exhaustion was great. The strain of their rapid and continuous advance over long stretches of devastated country, the communica tions of which had been damaged or destroyed by the enemy in his retreat, tended to slow down their progress, exhaust their men and animals, and render the task of supplying the forward elements ever more difficult. The fact that a large civilian population had to be fed in addition to the troops tended to increase the strain on the administrative services almost to breaking-point. None the less, the numerical superiority which had come over to the side of the Allies about the end of July remained henceforward constantly in their favour, and that to an ever-increasing degree. Whereas the total of German divisions had sunk from 207 on July 15th to 184 on November 11th, the Allied total rose from 194 to 205 during the same period; whereas the Germans on the former date could show 81 divisions in reserve, but on the latter only 17, their enemies' reserves, in July only 70, were in November 103 divisions strong. This material superiority on the Allied side was more than paralleled by the moral ascendancy they had acquired over the enemy, which enabled them to undertake, and justified them in undertaking, attacks which would under less favour able conditions have been doomed to failure.

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No discussion of the campaign of 1918 in the West abcould omit the name of Marshal Foch, and some attempt alo estimate his share in the final achievement. A combparison between him and his master and model, Napoeon, was in fashion some time ago; but though it is in obvious one, it is doubtful if it can be drawn with my pretence to truth. For the circumstances of the two dthen were at practically no point parallel. Napoleon, had ise been only a soldier, would have been less great than he daras; Foch could only have detracted from his own merits had he gone beyond his strictly military sphere. Napoleon hroughout his career sought first to serve himself, and of France only through himself; Foch was the servant of his daountry, and that only. Napoleon invented his own methods f war, moulded his armies on his own model, and chose is men to serve his ends. Foch found armies, leaders and weapons placed ready to his hands, and had to work with that he had available.

The difficulties confronting Foch were also different from ny which the great French Emperor had to face. Foch took command at a moment when the fate of his campaign was already gravely compromised, and nothing but the act that the Allied cause was in the direst peril could have rought him to the post of supreme leader. But for this peril, political-military compromises between the principles of united command and national amour-propre must have xercised their fatal sway over the actions of the Western Allies in 1918. But the very fact that Foch was called to the helm in the face of the hurricane rendered his task one of surpassing complexity. He had not only to save the ituation, but, by restoring it, to live up to the confidence eposed in him. He had not only to deal with leaders mong whom divergencies of view were bound to arise in onsequence of their different national standpoints, but to make his own will felt in circumstances where ruin might follow any error of judgment. He had not only to gain and keep the confidence of the various Allied leaders and coningents, but to uplift the moral of their governments and their peoples.

That all this was accomplished and the whole work crowned with complete success must be attributed mainly to the character and personality of the Allied Supreme Commander. It proves clearly enough that this character and personality comprised in essence more than mere military genius. Foch gave proof of a real diplomatic talent in reconciling under his leadership all these various and power

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ful forces, which might have spent themselves in internal d friction or divergent effort, and in directing them to the single aim of defeating and destroying the enemy. He had shown something of this gift in the autumn of 1914, when he carried out with conspicuous success the co-ordination of the Allied efforts in Northern France and Flanders, and no doubt the knowledge he then gained of the peculiar qualities and characteristics of our own and of the Belgian armies stood him in good stead. That he received the most loyal and ungrudging support from all the Allied leaders, from Haig and Pétain and Pershing alike, is well known. That he succeeded, too, in gaining the confidence and trust of the troops who served under these leaders is also well known Nevertheless, it was not in the first few months of waiting! and watching that Foch could count on that implicit belief in his genius, that faith in his ultimate triumph, which he enjoyed throughout all the countries of the Entente in the last few months of the war. This faith could only come by slow degrees; it could only be firmly fixed on the foundation-stone of victory. Perhaps it will be regarded by future generations as the greatest of Foch's merits that his fine judgment and sense of reality led him to commit no imprudences, to contrive no hurried schemes, in order by a showy success to gain that confidence, though he fully realized how great an asset it must be to him and to the Allied cause. But Foch was a military calculating machine of the first order; he would neither strike before the time came nor hold his blow one moment after he saw his chance It was his military insight that, when the moment was ripe snatched the opportunity; it was his character that enabled him to triumph over all internal difficulties and get the best out of the powerful machine of which he held the levers

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In these operations of Foch's the British forces may proudly claim to have played the leading rôle. The totals. of their captures would alone be sufficient evidence of that they took nearly as many prisoners as all the other three Allied Armies added together; their trophies in guns were over half of the full total of the Victory Campaign. But there was more ground for British pride in the fact that these splendid results were achieved against the picked troops of the enemy, defending a sector vital to the safety of their army, and ensconced behind the strongest natural and artificial defences. They were no bloodless or easy victories that the British Army gained in its triumphal progress from the heart of Picardy and Artois to the French frontier. The tale of our captures alone would

prove

this

the tale of our losses affords even more conclusive evidence of it.

For, in fact, the British Army in 1918 was at the height of its power. The French, who had borne the brunt of our years of war, holding a length of line far exceeding burs, sharing in every battle in the West that was waged by her Allies and alone enduring the whole weight of as many more on her own front, were now showing signs of exhaustion, and were fain to call on others to lift some part of their rushing burden. The Belgian Army was but a small part of great host, and was by circumstances bound to remain so. The Americans had many fine units and performed many notable deeds of arms, but they were not as yet fit to play the leading rôle in the decisive battle for victory. There remained the British Army. Tried in four years of battle, it had yet preserved unbroken much of the spring and ardour of its youthful days, while acquiring the skill of leadership, the smoothness of organization, the mastery of its trade, which only experience and training can bring to perfection. In a word, it had been trained to a hair for its task and had acquired to a high degree a happy blend of all the qualities which make for victory.

It may be noted in passing how comparatively unimportant has become the quality of human material which goes to compose an army. Man for man, there was a great difference between the individual British soldier of 1915 and him of 1918. The flower of the youth of England who rushed to arms at the first call and flocked into France by their thousands in the spring and summer of 1915 had fallen like leaves in autumn in the fierce battles of Loos and the Somme. The armies that dealt the Germans their death blow were armies largely conscripted, and drawn from by no means the most fit or the most warlike elements of the population. But they triumphed because they had been welded into an army, whereas the men of 1915 had furnished only regiments. In 1915 the British leaders and their men were learning their business in the hard school of experience; in 1918 they had plumbed the riddle to its depths, and

Kipling's ship, had found itself-and became one of the most potent tools for victory that it ever fell to human general to handle.

to learn. The Army, like as little more left for them

How true is this dictum of the comparative unimportance of the individual may be seen, for instance, in the difference between the achievements of the British IX Corps and the II American Corps in the storming of the Hindenburg Line.

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The latter formation, one of the best in the American Army, young, fresh, full of keenness and spirit, could yet make but little headway against the stubborn German defence; while P EP the IX Corps overran all the obstacles in its front and reached its objectives without a pause. These facts cannot be accounted for by any unusual difficulty in the conditions under which the Americans attacked; in fact, their task was probably the easier of the two. Nor would it be possible to place the valour of the American soldier second to any other in the world. It was simply the difference between units raised in 1914 and those raised in 1917-between four years and one year of military experience.

And, indeed, as war becomes more and more mechanical, so must the individual tend more and more to be merged in the army, and to feel himself but one tiny part of a great whole. This tendency may operate to take away most of the glamour and romance of war, and it is as well that it should be so. War is not, and never again will be, anything but a stern testing-time for men and nations: a thing to be entered upon with reluctance and with searching of heart; to be endured with fortitude and valour; to be looked back upon with pride and yet with sorrow. Sorrow must predominate in the hearts of many to whom the solemnity of November 11, 1920, will recall bitter bereavement and irreparable loss; but mellowing this emotion, and in many minds transcending it, must be the pride in duty well done, the lofty consciousness of a great common achievement. For it was on this day two years since that the British dead, that strewed the fields of France and Flanders from Mons to the Marne and Amiens and Arras and Ypres and back again, saw from the highlands whither their souls had gone the full reward of their toil and of their sacrifice. It was on this day two years since that the people of this land, gone forth under arms to fight for the cause of England and of Europe, consummated their triumph and finished

their labours.

E. W. SHEPPARD