Eminent French military critics have dealt with all the phases of the movement for raising men, first by the old traditional system of voluntaryism, then by graduated processes of compulsion. The result was an army whose peer the world had never seen, either for the high training of the men or the quality of the equipment. Already in the Spring of 1916 the English artillery was more numerous than the French, especially in heavy guns. It is true that the shooting of those pieces was not as good as that of our Allies, and that the French sent instructors to coach the English in their own methods; but one need not be surprised that we had not immediately acquired the full science of artillery usage upon which the French have specialised for many years. In the strict co-operation of two armies of differing nationalities working together in the field there must be necessarily certain difficulties and differences, and it is certain that the French did not always comprehend our methods of fighting. The English "stick it out" is often opposed to their own notion of a judicious retreat. For instance, the "marmites" are falling fast upon the front-line trench; there is a danger of the trench caving in and burying its occupants. Realising the situation, the French withdraw their men to the second line—perhaps three hundred yards behind the other. The British, however, will not countenance this strategic move; they remain; their own flank is exposed. Two rival principles are here in play. Say the British: "Better remain in the trench, because, on the morrow, you must win it back again by a counter-attack which is a wasteful process." "No," say the French, "retreat in time and save your men; you can get it back at a less cost than if you stayed and ran the risk of being decimated by the big shells." You may see, no doubt, much of the same spirit in the question of guarding or abandoning sections of the line which are difficult to keep. For instance, the French probably would have given up long ago the salient at Ypres, which the English maintained at a considerable cost, mainly for sentimental, at least, for moral reasons, whereas the French would have urged that there was a line behind that would have given a better and easier frontier to defend. None, however, can estimate the moral value to the French of the mere presence at their side of their old rivals and antagonists; and the effect of contingents arriving in France from far-off Canada and Australia, New Zealand and the Cape, has been quite extraordinary. Almost inconceivable, also, has been the material help that Britain has extended to her Allies. To France alone we have advanced £500,000,000, a wonderful achievement in itself, and we have also supplied unending stores of coals, steel, boots, clothing—material of all sorts.