Sir John Monash

During the closing days of August events had commenced to move rapidly; for the offensive activities initiated by the Fourth Army, three weeks earlier, began to spread in both directions along the Allied front.

The Third British Army had entered the fray on August 21st; the First British Army was ready with its offensive on August 26th, on which date the Canadian Corps, restored to its old familiar battleground, delivered a great attack opposite Arras.

The French, who, on my right flank, had along their front followed up the enemy retirement begun after the battle of Chuignes, reached Roye on August 27th, and Noyon on August 28th. Their line, however, still bore back south-westerly from the vicinity of the river near Brie and St. Christ.

By August 29th the line of the First Army had reached and passed Bapaume, and that of the Third Army cut through Combles. The Third Corps, on my immediate left, had made good its advance as far as Maurepas.

Thus, the thrust of the Australian Corps beyond the Canal du Nord, on August 31st to September 3rd, formed the spearhead which pierced the Somme line, and the Corps was still leading the advance both of the French and the British.

From the morning of September 4th the evidences of the enemy's resolution to withdraw to the Hindenburg Line became hourly more unmistakable. His Artillery fire died down considerably, particularly that from his long range and high velocity guns. These were probably already on the move to the rear, in order to clear the roads for his lighter traffic.

The Hindenburg Line Wire—near Bony.

The high ground near Biaches (west of PÉronne) provided a vantage point from which an extensive view of the whole country could be obtained. There lay before us, beyond the Somme, a belt about eight miles deep, which had scarcely suffered at all from the ravages of the previous years of war.

It was gently undulating country, liberally watered, and heavily wooded, especially in the minor valleys, in which snuggled numerous villages still almost intact and habitable, although, of course, entirely deserted by the civilian population.

Beyond this agreeable region there began again an area of devastation, which grew in awful thoroughness as the great Hindenburg Line was approached some six miles further on. For, through the autumn and winter of 1917, and up to the moment of the German offensive in March, 1918, it was there that the British Fifth Army had faced the enemy in intensive trench fighting.

In all directions over this still habitable belt there were now signs of unusual life and activity. Columns of smoke began to rise in the direction of all the villages. Sounds of great explosions rent the air. These were sure indications that the enemy was burning the stores which he could not hope to salve, and was destroying his ammunition dumps lest they should fall into our hands.

A vigorous pursuit was now the policy most to be desired. But my troops in the line were very tired from the exertions of a great struggle, and many of the units, by reason of their battle losses, required time to reorganize and refit. It was also essential that no rapid advance should be attempted until the arrangements for supply, depending upon the completion of the Somme crossings, had been assured.

The general line of advance of the Corps had, during August, been in a due easterly direction. The operations about PÉronne had necessitated a drive north-easterly, and the advance of my Third Division up the Bouchavesnes spur had carried them square across the line of advance of the Third Corps.

The first step was to restore our original Corps boundaries, and to resume the original line of advance. By arrangement with General Godley, his 74th Division took over the ground captured by my Third Division, which was thereby released and enabled to concentrate, for a couple of days' rest, in the ClÉry region. The Second Division employed its 7th Brigade on September 2nd and 3rd to advance our line beyond Haut Allaines, another two miles east of Mont St. Quentin, routing from the trenches of that spur the strong rearguards which the enemy had posted for the purpose of delaying us.

On the night of September 4th the 74th Division took over the Haut Allaines spur also, thereby releasing my Second Division, and the latter was withdrawn to the Cappy area for a thorough and well-deserved rest.

Meanwhile, the 32nd Imperial Division, availing itself of the temporary crossings which had hastily been effected over the Somme, brought its front up, on the eastern bank of the river, level with the line which had by September 4th been reached by the Fifth Australian Division.

On September 5th, therefore, I had, east of the Somme, two Divisions in the line, the 32nd on the right or south, the Fifth Australian on the left or north, each operating on a frontage of two Brigades, with one Brigade in reserve. This was, however, quite a temporary arrangement, devised merely to allow time for the Third Division to reorganize and resume its place in the front line of the general advance.

The general withdrawal of the enemy, over a very wide front, now began to effect a very substantial reduction of the length of frontage which he had to defend. The enemy communiquÉs and wireless propaganda of that time busied themselves with the explanation that the withdrawals in progress were being deliberately carried out for the very purpose of releasing forces from the line to form a great strategic reserve.

These protestations did not deceive us, nor did we on our part fail also to take full advantage of the steady shortenings of the Allied front. Marshal Foch decided once again to readjust the international boundary, and my own front was thereby considerably shortened. The French took over from the 32nd Division all ground south of the main Amiens—St. Quentin road; and that road henceforth became my southern boundary.

This, coupled with the readjustment of the northern boundary with the Third Corps, as already narrated, reduced the total frontage for which I remained responsible to about ten thousand yards, an extent which was never again exceeded. It was still, however, in my judgment, too long a frontage for an effective pursuit by only two Divisions, and arrangements were initiated on the same day to bring back the Third Division into line.

During September 5th I advanced my front to the line Athies—Le Mesnil—Doingt—Bussu. Severe fighting took place near Doingt. Opposition came mainly from machine guns; but isolated field-guns also gave us trouble. We captured that day about a hundred and fifty prisoners.

Next day my Third Division came into the line on the north. I divided my frontage equally between the three Divisions, placing each on a single Brigade front. This was, in fact, a repetition of the order of battle which had carried us so successfully and rapidly up to the Somme.

Each front line Brigade took up the rÔle of Advanced Guard to its Division. The 11th Brigade led the Third Division; the 8th Brigade led the Fifth Division, while the 97th Brigade covered the 32nd Imperial Division.

For the first time in the war I found an opportunity of employing my Corps Cavalry (13th Australian Light Horse) on other than their habitual duty of carrying despatches, or providing mounted escorts to convoys of prisoners of war. Here at last was a chance for bold mounted tactics, as the county was mainly open and free of wire and trenches.

To each Division I therefore allotted a squadron of Light Horse for vanguard duty, together with detachments of the Australian Cyclist Battalion. These troops more than justified their employment by bold, forward reconnaissance, and energetic pressure upon the enemy rearguards.

So promising, indeed, was the prospect of the useful employment of cavalry, that I prevailed upon the Army Commander to endeavour to secure for my use a whole Cavalry Brigade. Brigadier-General Neil Haig (cousin of the Field Marshal) was actually sent for and placed under my orders. I duly arranged a plan of action with him, but before the 1st Cavalry Brigade, stationed many miles away, had completed its long march into my area, the situation had already changed, and the employment of Cavalry on the Fourth Army front had to be postponed until a much later date.

A juncture had arrived when it became imperative for me to consider the possibility of affording some relief to the three line Divisions; all of them had been fighting without respite since August 27th. The troops were so tired from want of sleep and physical strain that many of them could be seen by the roadside, fast asleep. These three Divisions had almost reached the limits of their endurance.

It was essential, however, that they should be called upon to yield up the last particle of effort of which they were capable. Every mile by which they could approach nearer to the Hindenburg defences meant a saving of effort on the part of the fresh waiting Divisions, whom I had earmarked for the first stage of our contemplated assault upon that formidable system; a system which I knew to be too deep to be overwhelmed in a single operation.

It was for this reason that I was compelled to disregard the evident signs of overstrain which were brought to my notice by the Divisional Generals and their Brigadiers, and which were patent to my own observation of the condition of the troops. I arranged, however, two measures of immediate relief, the first being to set a definite limit of time for the further demands to be made upon the line Divisions. This was fixed for September 10th. The second was to issue orders that the rate of our further advance was to be controlled by consideration for the well-being of our own troops, and not by the rate of the enemy's retreat. If, in consequence, any gap should eventuate, touch with the enemy was to be kept by the mounted troops and cyclists.

The preliminary steps for effecting the reliefs thus promised for September 10th were begun on September 5th. The Corps was, as stated, on a three Division front. I had only two fit Divisions in Corps Reserve (i.e., the First and Fourth), the Second Division being not yet rested. My representations to the Army Commander on this matter bore immediate fruit; for he placed under my orders the Sixth (Imperial) Division (one of the first seven Divisions of the original Expeditionary Force). Before, however, I could take advantage of this windfall, the constitution of the Fourth Army underwent a vital alteration, of which more will be told later.

The First and Fourth Divisions had been resting since August 26th. They had had time to reorganize their units, to reclothe and refit their troops, to receive and absorb reinforcements, and to fill vacancies among leaders. Staffs had been able to deal with a mass of arrears. The men had enjoyed a pleasant holiday in the now peaceful Somme Valley, far in rear, a holiday devoted to games and aquatic sports. Horse and man, alike, were refreshed, and had been inspired by the continued successes of the remainder of the Corps.

They were however, by now, far in rear; and it was out of the question to tax their restored energies by calling upon them to march back to the battle zone. The Fourth Army, as always, extended its sympathetic help; two motor bus convoys, each capable of dealing with a Brigade group a day, were speedily materialized from the resources of G.H.Q.

The completion of the moves of these two Divisions from the back area to within easy marching distance of the battle front therefore occupied three days. The use of mechanical transport for the execution of troop movements has now entirely passed the experimental stage, and in future wars, calculations of time and space will be vitally affected, whenever an ample supply of lorries or buses and suitable roads are available for the rapid concentration or dispersal of large bodies of troops.

The Australian soldier is individually philosophic and stoical, but in the mass he is sensitive to a degree; and he is intelligent enough to realize how he is used or misused. It was the subject of complaint among the troops during the earlier years of the war, that while they were indulgently carried by lorries into the battle at a time when they were fresh and fit, they were invariably left to march long distances, out of the battle, when they were on the verge of exhaustion. I therefore tried, whenever possible, to provide tired troops with the means of transport to their rest areas, a facility which was always highly appreciated by them.

By the time the First and Fourth Divisions had thus been assembled in the forward areas, ready to relieve the Third and Fifth Divisions, these latter, together with the 32nd Division, had advanced our front approximately to the line Vermand—Vendelles—Hesbecourt, carrying it to within three miles of the front line of the Hindenburg defence system.

There can be no doubt, however, that the rate of our advance, retarded as it had been for the reasons already explained, had proceeded much more rapidly than suited the enemy.

A steady stream of prisoners kept pouring in, captured in twos and threes, all along my front, by my energetic patrols. Numerous machine guns were taken; and in the vicinity of Roisel, fully three hundred transport vehicles and much engineering material were captured, which the enemy had been compelled to abandon in haste.

At this juncture the British High Command arrived at the important decision to enlarge the Fourth Army, by adding another Corps; doubtless contemplating the possibility of operations on a large scale against the Hindenburg defences in the near future.

A new Corps Headquarters, the Ninth, was to be reconstituted under Lieut.-General Braithwaite, and he was to become my neighbour on my southern flank, interposed between me and the French. Braithwaite had been Chief of Staff to Sir Ian Hamilton during the Dardanelles Expedition, and I had seen much of him there. I was to have the advantage, therefore, of having old Gallipoli comrades on either flank, Braithwaite on the south, and Godley on the north.

The immediate result of this decision, which came into effect early on September 12th, was that the 32nd Division, which had been under my orders for nearly four weeks, passed over to the Ninth Corps. Lambert, his Staff and his Division had served me well and efficiently, and I was sorry to lose them out of my Corps.

With the impending further shortening of my front, I had no justification for pressing to be permitted to retain this Division. On the contrary, my representations to General Rawlinson had always been in favour of shortening my frontage to the effective battle standard of August 8th, so that the Corps might at any time be in a position to embark on a major operation, with its whole resources in Artillery and Infantry concentrated, as on that occasion, upon a relatively narrow objective. My greatly extended front, and the direct control of the affairs of six separate Divisions, had been a heavy burden, involving great and manifold responsibilities.

According to my promises to the remaining two line Divisions, the Fifth and Third, these were duly relieved on September 10th by the First and Fourth Divisions, the former on the north, the latter on the south. Each Division had a frontage of about four thousand yards, but this was to diminish rapidly, if the advance of the Corps continued, by reason of the fact that my southern boundary now became the Omignon River, whose course ran obliquely from the north-east.

While all these changes in dispositions were being effected, there was breathing time to give attention to a heavy mass of arrears of work; for there could be no question of undertaking an attack on the Hindenburg defences without most careful and exhaustive preparation.

For this the time was not yet ripe. It would still take some days to bring forward the remainder of my heaviest Artillery, to advance the railheads, to replenish the ammunition depots and supply dumps, and to re-establish telegraph and telephone communications.

Another good reason for a more leisurely policy on the front of the Fourth Army lay in the events on other portions of the Allied fronts. By September 4th the German withdrawal had become general on all fronts.

It had become clear that the enemy's retirement to his former position of March, 1918, was not to be confined to those fronts on which he had been receiving such punishment. All evidence pointed to the fact that his present strategy was to take up as speedily as possible a strong defensive attitude, behind the great system of field works, which had already served him so well during 1917, at a time when a considerable proportion of his military resources was still involved on the Russian and Roumanian fronts.

His retirement before the First and Third British Armies was proceeding methodically, and on September 5th the French were crossing the Vesle, between Rheims and Soissons. All was going well; and those in the confidence of our High Command knew that, on any day now, news might be expected of the first great attack to be made by the American Army, to be directed against the St. Mihiel Salient on the Alsace front.

This latter attack actually opened on September 11th, and it was clearly sound military policy to wait for a few days, in order correctly to diagnose the effect of these operations upon the enemy's distribution of forces.

Information as to the locations and movements of all the enemy Divisions was in these days voluminous, accurate and speedy. Prisoners and documents were daily falling into the hands of the Allies over the whole length of the Western Front. His Divisions in the front line were identified daily by actual contact. As to those resting or refitting or in reserve, accurate deductions could be made from the mass of information at our disposal.

It was at this time that it began to be made clear to us that the enemy's mobile reserves had been almost completely absorbed into the front line. One Division after another, particularly among those which had been engaged against the Australian Corps in August, was being disbanded. Among these were the 109th, 225th, 233rd, 54th Reserve, and 14th Bavarian Divisions.

The strength of the enemy's remaining Divisions was also rapidly diminishing. From prisoners we learned that many Battalions now had only three Companies instead of four, many Regiments only two Battalions instead of three, and even the Company strengths were at a low ebb.

We could well afford to approach the immediate future with greater deliberation.

Since August 8th, the Corps front had already advanced twenty-five miles, and it was not long before I had to abandon the luxurious chÂteau of the Marquis de Clermont-Tonnere, at Bertangles, whose spacious halls and spreading parks had formed so pleasant a habitation for the whole of my Corps Headquarters.

The scale of comfort possible for all senior Commanders and Staffs rapidly declined as the advance developed. Generals of Corps, Divisions and Brigades had to be content with living and office quarters in a steadily descending gradation of convenience. From chÂteau to humbler dwelling house, and thence into bare wooden huts, and later still into mere holes hollowed out in the sides of quarries or railway cuttings, were the stages of progress in this downward scale.

My Headquarters moved from Bertangles to a group of village houses at Glisy on August 13th; thence on August 31st to MÉricourt, where the best had to be made of a derelict, much battered and almost roofless chÂteau, which the Germans had rifled of every stick of furniture, and even of all doors and windows, in order to equip a large collection of dug-outs in a neighbouring hill-side.

Again on September 8th I moved into the very centre of the devastated area lying in the Somme bend, on to a small rise near Assevillers, where a number of tiny wooden huts served us as bedrooms by night and offices by day. Only one hut, more pretentiously brick-walled and evidently built for the use of some German officer of high rank, was available to fulfil the duties of hospitality.

In spite of such discomforts, the daily life at Corps Headquarters flowed on uninterruptedly in its several quite distinct activities. On the one hand, there was the grim business of fighting, the detailed conduct of the battle of to-day, the troop and artillery movements for that of to-morrow, the planning of the one to be undertaken still later; rounds of conferences and consultations; visits to Divisions and Brigades, and to Artillery; reconnaissances to the forward zone; and an intent and ceaseless study of maps and Intelligence summaries.

Hourly contact with Headquarters of Fourth Army and of flank Corps had to be maintained. Then, following the day's strenuous activities out of doors, there was at nights a never-diminishing mass of administrative work, disciplinary questions, honours, awards, appointments, promotions, and a formidable correspondence which must not be allowed to fall into arrear.

Again, in the back areas there were the unemployed Divisions of the Corps, who must be regularly visited, both at training and at play. There were medals and ribbons to be distributed to the gallant winners; addresses to be delivered; and the work of reorganizing and refitting the resting units to be supervised. Still further in rear, demonstrations of new experiments in tactics or in weapons, or in mechanical warfare, had frequently to be attended, for study and criticism.

And lastly there was the social life of the Corps; for its performances were beginning to attract attention beyond the limited, if select, circles of the Fourth Army. A steady stream of visitors began to set in. It was a necessary burden that suitable arrangements for their reception and entertainment had to be maintained.

The duties of hospitality had been simple at a time when Corps Headquarters was still housed in palatial chÂteaux, situated in country hitherto untouched by the war, and within easy reach of all supplies. It was a very different matter to offer even reasonable comfort to a visitor at a time when Government rations constituted the backbone of our fare, when there were only bare floors to sleep upon for those who were not fortunate enough to possess a camp bed or valise, and when even an extra blanket or pillow or towel was at a premium.

Yet we were always most glad to see visitors, and those of them who were soldiers had, of course, a full understanding of our limitations. It was not always so with others who, in the earlier years of the war, when all Corps had a fixed location and had achieved a high standard of domestic comfort, had been accustomed to an adequate reception.

Upon the whole, our guests were indulgent, and understood that the stress of current events placed a very strict limit upon the amount of time that the members of my Staff or I could devote to them.

Among many other distinguished men whom I had the honour to receive were members of the War Cabinet, such as Lord Milner, then Secretary of State for War, and Mr. Winston Churchill, the Minister of Munitions; public men, such as Sir Horace Plunkett and Robert Blatchford; eminent authors, such as Sir Conan Doyle, Sir Gilbert Parker and Ian Hay; famous artists, such as Louis Raemakers, Streeton and Longstaff; celebrated journalists, like Viscount Burnham, Thomas Marlowe and Cope Cornford; together with many representatives of the Royal Navy, and of the armies of our Allies, and AttachÉs from all the Allied Embassies.

The Commander-in-Chief, Field Marshal Haig, was a frequent caller, and never departed without leaving a stimulating impression of his placid, hopeful and undaunted personality, nor without a generous recognition of the work which the Corps was doing.

General Birdwood, also, the former Corps Commander, who now commanded the Fifth Army, paid several visits to the Corps, travelling long distances in order to speak a few encouraging words to the Commanders and troops with whom he had formerly been so long and so closely associated. He, too, was always a most welcome visitor. Although since the previous May he had ceased to control the fighting activities of the Corps, this did not lessen the intense pride which he took in its daily successes.

Many of our civilian visitors thirsted for the noise and tumult of battle, and were most keen to get under fire, even if only of long-range artillery fire. This was a constant source of anxiety to me, for it was an unwritten law that the responsibility of their safe sojourn in the Corps area rested with me. More often than not they had to be dissuaded from visiting the forward zone, and induced to spend their available time in inspecting some of our show spots in the rearward areas, such as the Calibration ranges, or the Corps central telegraph station, or the Tank park, or even the Prisoner of War Cages, and the numerous depots of captured guns and war trophies.

The Corps prisoners' cage was always, throughout the period of our active fighting, a scene both of great interest and much activity. Although all prisoners of war had to be evacuated to the rear usually within about twenty-four hours of their admission, and every day a batch marched out under escort, yet the Corps cage between July and October was never empty.

When early in July the stream of prisoners began to flow in, and thereafter grew steadily stronger, my Intelligence Service, headed by Major S. A. Hunn, rose thoroughly to the occasion. Among our troops sufficient numbers of all ranks proficient in the German language were speedily found. After a little training they learned to deal expeditiously with the lengthy searchings and interrogations which followed the arrival of all new-comers.

Documents of every description found upon prisoners excepting their pay-books, were seized and examined. The German soldier is an inveterate sender and recipient of picture postcards. It was surprising how much information of an invaluable character could be gleaned from a postcard. A date, a place name, the number of a Unit or Regiment, the name of a Commander, reference to a train journey or a fight, are often sufficient, when read by an expert in relation to the context, to furnish definite information of the whereabouts of a Division, or of the fact that it has been or is about to be disbanded, or of its intended movement to some other part of the front, or of the losses which it has suffered.

All these scraps of information, when compared with similar items gathered on other fronts, soon enabled the whole story of all movement that was going on behind the enemy's lines to be deduced from day to day with wonderful completeness.

So, also, maps, sketches, copies of orders, or of battle instructions, and the contents of note-books and of personal diaries always repaid the closest scrutiny. Such study produced results which, even if not of immediate value to me, were nevertheless passed on to the Army, and by them broadly promulgated, in daily summaries, for the benefit of all our other Corps.

The oral interrogation of the prisoners, particularly of officers, often produced results of first-class importance. Information as to dispositions, intentions, new tactical methods or new weapons frequently emerged from these inquiries. It was rare that prisoners refused to talk, and rarer still for them to attempt to mislead with false information. If they did attempt it, the interrogating officer was usually sufficiently well-informed upon the subject of inquiry to be able to detect the inconsistency.

As the prisoners were invariably examined separately, it was never difficult to discriminate between the true, upon which the majority of them were in agreement, and the false, upon which the minority never agreed.

Should the prisoner prove uncommunicative or deceitful, then if he were of sufficient education to make it worth while, the Intelligence Officer had yet another method, besides direct questioning, at his disposal.

For a certain number of our own men, who could speak German fluently, and who had been carefully tutored in their rÔle, were provided with enemy uniforms, and allowed to grow a three-days' beard, so as to impersonate prisoners of war. These men, so equipped, were called "pigeons." A pigeon would be ostentatiously brought under escort into the prisoners' cage, and would sojourn for a day or more in a compartment of it among the specially selected genuine prisoners. He would indicate by a secret sign the time when he should himself be led to the Intelligence Office for interrogation. It was seldom that he came away empty-handed.

The demeanour of our captives, on reaching the cages, varied widely, according to the stress which they had undergone. Some wore an air of abject misery, and were thoroughly cowed and subservient. Others were defiant, sulky and even arrogant.

Our treatment of them was firm, but humane. Physically, they had nothing to complain of; they were fed and quartered on the same standard as our own men. But they were given to understand from the very outset that we would stand no nonsense, and that they must do exactly what they were told. Few of them ever gave us any real trouble.

The subsequent employment of prisoners of war did not come under my jurisdiction, and it was seldom that any prisoner working parties were available to me. My Corps area rarely extended sufficiently far back from the front line to carry it beyond the zone in which, by agreement between the belligerents, the employment of prisoners of war was forbidden.

Australian soldiers are nothing if not sportsmen, and no case ever came under my notice of brutality or inhumanity to prisoners. Upon the contrary, when once a man's surrender had been accepted, and he had been fully disarmed, he was treated with marked kindness. The front line troops were always ready to share their water and rations with their prisoners, and cigarettes were distributed with a liberal hand.

On the other hand, the souvenir-hunting instinct of the Australian led him to help himself freely to such mementos as our orders had not forbidden him to touch. Prisoners rarely got as far as the Corps cage with a full outfit of regimental buttons, cockades, shoulder-straps, or other accoutrements. Personal trinkets, pay-books, money and other individual belongings were, however, invariably respected; unless, as often happened, the prisoners themselves were anxious to trade them away to their captors, or escorts, for tobacco, chocolates, or other luxuries.

Before I leave the subject of prisoners I should mention my impression of the German officers, particularly of those who were more senior in rank. Whenever a Regimental or Battalion Commander was captured, and time permitted, he was brought before me for a further interrogation. It was an experience which was almost universal that such officers were willing to give me little information which might injure their cause; on the other hand, they exhibited an altogether exaggerated air of wounded pride at their capture, and at the defeat of the troops whom they had commanded.

It was that feeling of professional pique which dominated their whole demeanour. They were always volubly full of excuses, the weather, the fog, the poor moral of their own men, the unexpectedness of our attack, the Tanks, errors in their maps—anything at all but a frank admission of their own military inferiority.

There were two amusing exceptions to this experience. The day after the fighting for PÉronne, when a large batch of the prisoners then taken was being got ready to march out of the Corps cage, officers in one enclosure, other ranks in another, the senior German officer, a Regimental Commander, formally requested permission to address some eighty other officers present in the cage. This request was granted.

He told them that they had fought a good fight, that their capture was not to their discredit, and that he would report favourably upon them to his superiors at the first opportunity. He then went on to say that on his own and on their behalf he desired to tender to the Australians an expression of his admiration for their prowess, and to make a frank acknowledgment to them that he fully recognized that on this occasion his garrison had been outclassed, out-manoeuvred, and out-fought. The whole assembly expressed their acquiescence in these observations by collectively bowing gravely to the small group of my Intelligence Officers who were amused spectators of the scene.

On another occasion—it was just after the battle of September 18th—I was asking a German Battalion Commander whether he could explain why it was that his men had that day surrendered in such large numbers without much show of resistance. "Well, you see," said he, with a twinkle in his eye, "they are dreadfully afraid of the Australians. So they are of the Tanks. But when they saw both of them coming at them together, they thought it was high time to throw up their hands."

But this story is slightly anticipatory. The short breathing-space which had been afforded by our more leisurely advance towards the Hindenburg system was over. By September 12th I was once again immersed in all the perplexities of shaping means to ends. I had to decide, in collaboration with the Army Staff and the Corps on my flanks, first, the extent of the resources which would be required, and second, the successive stages which would offer promise of success in overthrowing the last great defensive system of all those which the enemy had created upon the tortured soil of France.