* * * * *

So far my recollections of March 3rd.  But this is now April 26th, and all the time that I have been writing these recollections, thought has been leaping forward to the actual present—­to the huge struggle now pending between Arras and Rheims—­to the news that comes crowding in, day by day, of the American preparations in aid of the Allies—­to all that is at stake for us and for you.  Your eyes are now turned like ours to the battle-line in France.  You triumph—­and you suffer—­with us!

No. 6

May 3rd, 1917.

DEAR MR. ROOSEVELT,—­My last letter left me returning to our village lodgings under the wing of G.H.Q. after a memorable day on the Somme battle-fields.  That night the talk at the Visitors’ Chateau, during and after a very simple dinner in an old panelled room, was particularly interesting and animated.  The morning’s newspapers had just arrived from England, with the official communiques of the morning.  We were pushing nearer and nearer to Bapaume; in the fighting of the preceding day we had taken another 128 prisoners; and the King had sent his congratulations to Sir Douglas Haig and the Army on the German withdrawal under “the steady and persistent pressure” of the British Army “from carefully prepared and strongly fortified positions—­a fitting sequel to the fine achievements of my Army last year in the Battle of the Somme.”  There was also a report on the air-fighting and air-losses of February—­to which I will return.

It was, of course, already obvious that the German retreat on the Somme was not—­so far—­going to yield us any very large captures of men or guns.  Prisoners were indeed collected every day, but there were no “hauls” such as, little more than a month after this evening of March 3rd, were to mark the very different course of the Battle of Arras.  Discussion turned upon the pace of the German retreat and the possible rate of our pursuit.  “Don’t forget,” said an officer, “that they are moving over good ground, while the pursuit has to move over bad ground—­roads with craters in them, ground so pitted with shell-holes that you can scarcely drive a peg between them, demolished bridges, villages that give scarcely any cover, and so on.  The enemy has his guns with him; ours have to be pushed up over the bad ground.  His machine-guns are always in picked and prepared positions; ours have to be improvised.”

And also—­“Don’t forget the weather!” said another.  Every misty day—­and there were many in February—­was very skilfully turned to account.  Whenever the weather conditions made it impossible to use the eyes of our Air Service, men would say to each other on our side, “He’ll go back a lot to-day!—­somewhere or other.”  But in spite of secrecy and fog, how little respite we had given him!  The enemy losses in casualties, prisoners, and stores during February were certainly