was to be hoped from any frontal attack there; and I also realized that Germany held Constantinople and the Dardanelles—­the gateway to the East.  And the trend of German foreign policy and German strategy convinced me that it was in the Near East that the menace to our Empire lay.  There was our most vulnerable part; while Germany held that gateway, the glamour of the East, with its possibilities of victories like those of Alexander, and an empire like that one which was the great Napoleon’s early dream, would always be a great temptation to German strategists.  I therefore always used to assert that “The side which holds Constantinople when peace terms come to be discussed is the side which has won the war,” and I think the events of September, 1918, have proved that my view and prophecy were correct.  I firmly believe that if unity of command under Marshal Foch and Sir Henry Wilson, with the following decisive victories of D’Esperey at Cerna and Allenby at Armageddon in September, 1918, bringing about the capitulation of Bulgaria and the Ottoman Empire, and the surrender of Constantinople to the Allies, had not been attained last year the war would still be in progress.  And I therefore hold that it is impossible to estimate the debt which the Allies owe to those statesmen who brought about that unity of command.

But to return to my story.  The next day was spent, as usual, on the “bull ring.”  On June 1, I find that I recorded the following incident: 

“We have been on the ‘bull ring’ again this morning.  The weather is as hot as ever.  While we were down there a German aeroplane flew right over from one end to the other—­north to south.  The anti-aircraft guns were firing at it the whole time, but failed to hit it.  It was flying at a great height, and the shrapnel appeared to be bursting all round it.  At one time it flew directly over our heads; but it did not drop any bombs!  A few minutes after it had passed, bits of shrapnel fell quite near us—­within four or five yards—­proving how much overhead it had been.  It was quite exciting, but not quite so much so as it was during those two minutes at Dover last September.  Now the question which arises is:  What was its object?  It did not drop any bombs.  Its object, therefore, must have been reconnaissance.  I suppose that it came to find out what number of troops we are moving round this way to the new battlefield in the north.  Even though we may move troops by so roundabout a way, the enemy is able to find out by means of aircraft.  Aircraft makes manoeuvre in modern warfare intensely difficult.”

That same evening orders came through for me to proceed up the line, but, as the following letter will tell, they were afterwards cancelled, owing to some mistake: 

“June 2nd.

“I had a walk down town yesterday evening.  Then I came back and called at the C.R.E. office to say good-bye to David Morgan.  He was in—­writing letters—­and I stayed a few minutes; then he walked back with me part of the way.  He wished me the best of luck.  We both expressed a hope that the war would soon be over!  ‘What a life!’ said Morgan.