THE ADVANCE TO MONS


The Battalion had arrived at Iron on a Sunday morning. It had rested
there, while the remainder of the British Army was being concentrated,
until Friday morning. On Thursday night the Battalion Orders made it
clear that a start was to be made. Parade was to be earlier than usual,
and nothing was to be left behind. Every one was very sorry to be
leaving their French friends, and there were great doings that night.
Champagne was produced, and a horrible sort of liquor called "alcahol"
was introduced into the coffee. Such was the generosity of the miller's
people that it was only with the greatest difficulty that the Captain
induced Madame to accept any payment for her kindness. And so in the
chill of that Friday morning the Battalion marched away, not without
many handshakings and blessings from the simple villagers. The Subaltern
often wonders what became of Mesdames, and that excitable son Raoul, and
charming Thérèse, whom the Subalterns had all insisted on kissing before
they left. A very different sort of folk occupy that village now. He
only hopes that his friends escaped them.

The Battalion joined its Brigade, and the Brigade its Division, and
before the sun was very high in the sky they were swinging along the
"route nationale," due northwards. The day was very hot, and the
Battalion was hurried, with as short halts as possible, towards
Landrécies. As, however, this march was easily surpassed in
"frightfulness" by many others, it will be enough to say that Landrécies
was reached in the afternoon.

Having seen his men as comfortable as possible in the schools where they