“Will they hold?” was the question which every man among us asked of his neighbor and of his soul. On our front there was nothing of war beyond the daily routine of the trenches and the daily list of deaths and wounds. Winter had closed down upon us in Flanders, and through its fogs and snows came the news of that conflict round Verdun to the waiting army, which was ours. The news was bad, yet not the worst. Poring over maps of the French front, we in our winter quarters saw with secret terror, some of us with a bluster of false optimism, some of us with unjustified despair, that the French were giving ground, giving ground slowly, after heroic resistance, after dreadful massacre, and steadily. They were falling back to the inner line of forts, hard pressed. The Germans, in spite of monstrous losses under the flail of the soixante-quinzes, were forcing their way from slope to slope, capturing positions which all but dominated the whole of the Verdun heights. “If the French break we shall lose the war,” said the pessimist. “The French will never lose Verdun,” said the optimist. “Why not? What are your reasons beyond that cursed optimism which has been our ruin? Why announce things like that as though divinely inspired? For God's sake let us stare straight at the facts.” “The Germans are losing the war by this attack on Verdun. They are just pouring their best soldiers into the furnace--burning the flower of their army. It is our gain. It will lead in the end to our victory.” “But, my dear good fool, what about the French losses? Don't they get killed, too? The German artillery is flogging them with shell-fire from seventeen-inch guns, twelve-inch, nine-inch, every bloody and monstrous engine. The French are weak in heavy artillery. For that error, which has haunted them from the beginning, they are now paying with their life's blood--the life blood of France.” “You are arguing on emotion and fear. Haven't you learned yet that the attacking side always loses more than the defense?” “That is a sweeping statement. It depends on relative man-power and gun-power. Given a superiority of guns and men, and attack is cheap. Defense is blown off the earth. Otherwise how could we ever hope to win?” “I agree. But the forces at Verdun are about equal, and the French have the advantage of position. The Germans are committing suicide.” “Humbug! They know what they are doing. They are the greatest soldiers in Europe.” “Led by men with bone heads.” “By great scientists.” “By the traditional rules of medievalism. By bald--headed vultures in spectacles with brains like penny-in--the-slot machines. Put in a penny and out comes a rule of war. Mad egoists! Colossal blunderers! Efficient in all things but knowledge of life.” “Then God help our British G.H.Q.!”