glares, and the horrible thudding noises in that place of death beneath
me.


II

In old days we had a great name as organisers. Then came a long period
when we deliberately adopted a policy of individuality and 'go as you
please.' Now once again in our sore need we have called on all our
power of administration and direction. But it has not deserted us. We
still have it in a supreme degree. Even in peace time we have shown it
in that vast, well-oiled, swift-running, noiseless machine called the
British Navy. But now our powers have risen with the need of them. The
expansion of the Navy has been a miracle, the management of the
transport a greater one, the formation of the new Army the greatest of
all time. To get the men was the least of the difficulties. To put them
here, with everything down to the lid of the last field saucepan in its
place, that is the marvel. The tools of the gunners, and of the
sappers, to say nothing of the knowledge of how to use them, are in
themselves a huge problem. But it has all been met and mastered, and
will be to the end. But don't let us talk any more about the muddling
of the War Office. It has become just a little ridiculous.

* * * * *

I have told of my first day, when I visited the front trenches, saw the
work of 'Mother,' and finally that marvellous spectacle, the Ypres
Salient at night. I have passed the night at the headquarters of a
divisional-general, Capper, who might truly be called one of the two
fathers of the British flying force, for it was he, with Templer, who