proved, and it is doubtful if there was ever a more complete illustration of the wisdom of those directing war policy at home submitting to the cool, balanced calculations of the man on the spot.  The extra six weeks spent in training and preparation were of incalculable service to the Allies.  I have heard it said that a September victory in Palestine would have had its reflex on the Italian front, and that the Caporetto disaster would not have assumed the gigantic proportions which necessitated the withdrawal to Italy of British and French divisions from the Western Front and prevented Cambrai being a big victory.  That is very doubtful.  On the contrary, a September battle in Palestine before we were fully ready to follow the Turks after breaking and rolling up their line, even if we had succeeded in doing this completely, might have deprived us of the moral effect of the capture of Jerusalem and of the wonderful influence which that victory had on the whole civilised world by reason of the sacrifices the Commander-in-Chief made to prevent any fighting at all in the precincts of the Holy City.  Of this I shall speak later, giving the fullest details at my command, for there is no page in the story of British arms which better upholds the honour and chivalry of the soldier than the preservation of the Holy Place from the clash of battle.

That last six weeks of preparation were unforgettable.  The London newspapers I had the honour to represent as War Correspondent knew operations were about to begin, but I did not cable or mail them one word which would give an indication that big things were afoot.  They never asked for news, but were content to wait till they could tell the public that victory was ours.  In accordance with their practice throughout the war the London Press set an example to the world by refraining from publishing anything which would give information of the slightest value to the enemy.  It was a privilege to see that victory in the making.  Some divisions which had allotted to them the hardest part of the attack on Beersheba were drawn out of the line, and forming up in big camps between Belah and Shellal set about a course of training such as athletes undergo.  They had long marches in the sand carrying packs and equipment.  They were put on a short allowance of water, except for washing purposes.  They dug, they had bombing practice, and with all this extra exercise while the days were still very hot they needed no encouragement to continue their games.  Football was their favourite sport, and the British Tommy is such a remarkable fellow that it was usual to see him trudge home to camp looking ‘fed up’ with exercise, and then, after throwing off his pack and tunic, run out to kick a ball.  The Italian and French detachments used to look at him in astonishment, and doubtless they thought his enthusiasm for sport was a sore trial.  He got thoroughly fit for marches over sand, over stony ground, over shifting shingle.  During the