In the issue dated September 6th, 1919, of that practical and very-much-up-to-date weekly journal, _Modern Transport_, is to be found tabulated in full and comprehensive form the "pedigree stock" emanating from the Director-General of Transportation; numerous personalities, bearing awe-inspiring affixes such as D.G.M.R., I.G.T., A.D.G.M.R., D.D.R.T., etc., _ad lib._; appearing on the scenes as representing the direct lineal descent of the great D.G.T. himself. And subsidiary to these personalities, or heads of sections and sub-sections, was enrolled a galaxy of assistants, engineers furnished in part by the British railway companies on recommendation from the Railway Executive Committee, in part by colonial or foreign railways, and under whom, in turn, there served a numerous personnel, whose name was "legion," recruited mostly from the home railways. And the reason for this gigantic scheme of organisation cannot be explained in any manner more convincing than in the words of Sir Douglas Haig, who, dealing in his final despatch with the "Rearward Services," insists that "the immense expansion of the Army from 6 to over 60 infantry divisions, combined with the constant multiplication of auxiliary arms, called inevitably for a large increase in the size and scope of the services concerned in the supply and maintenance of our fighting forces." Some staggering statistics now stare us in the face. "By the end of November, 1918," for instance, we learn that "the number of individual landings in France at the various ports managed by us exceeded 10-1/4 million persons," and "during the eleven months, January to November, 1918, the tonnage landed at these ports averaged some 175,000 tons per week." One can easily imagine the resultant effect upon these different ports situated on the northern coast of France. Let us take Boulogne, as being, perhaps, one of the most familiar of all, and any one who has chanced upon a little volume, bearing as its title "An Airman's Outings," cannot fail to recall the distinctly happy vein in which the author, writing under the _nom-de-plume_ of "Contact," describes the inevitable change which came over the place during the war. "It (Boulogne)," so he tells us, "has become almost a new town. Formerly a head-quarters of pleasure, a fishing centre, and a principal port of call for Anglo-Continental travel, it has been transformed into an important military base.... The multitude of visitors from across the Channel is larger than ever; but instead of Paris, the Mediterranean, and the East, they are bound for less attractive destinations--the muddy battle area and Kingdom Come."