For when, on July 18, the fifth German offensive suddenly shivered into momentary equilibrium and then rolled back, with Foch and the Allies pounding behind it, and when this counter-attack developed into a continuing offensive which was to straighten the Marne salient and throw back the Germans from before Amiens and do the future only knows what else besides, the Allied world said, in one voice: "Foch has found his army of manœuvre, and it's the Americans." This "army of manœuvre" has always been the king-pin of French strategy. While the Germans were trying two systems--first, the broad front attack which trusted to overbear by sheer weight anything which opposed it, and, second, the so-called Hutier system of draining the line of all its best fighters, and organizing shock troops immeasurably above the average for offensive, while the line was held by the rag-tag and bobtail--the French stuck to their traditional system. This was to hold the lines with the lightest possible number of men, of the highest possible caliber, and to thrust with a mobile force, foot-loose and ready to be swung wherever a spot seemed likely to give way. It was with the "army of manœuvre," thrown up from Paris in frantic haste by Galliéni, in taxicabs and trucks, that General Foch made the miraculous plunge through the Saxon army at Fère-en-Tardenois, in September, 1914, which saved the first battle of the Marne. When General Foch became generalissimo, in late March, just after the first German offensive on March 21 had thrown the British back, and when the French were retreating at Montdidier, the expectation universally was that the Allies would begin an offensive, within the shortest possible time. Foch had been quoted all over the world as saying that "defensive fighting was no defense." Yet April, May, and June passed, and part of July, and except for scattering attacks along the Marne salient, and patient rear-guard action when the retreats were necessary, the Allies made no move. The Austrian debacle came and went. Foch had Italy off his mind, and the Italians were more than taking care of themselves. Still he did not strike. And finally it became clear that he was showing this long patience because he wanted what every Frenchman wants first in every battle, and what he did not surely have until July--his army of manœuvre. The fitness of the American Army for this brilliant use was dual: first, that its source was virtually inexhaustible; second, that it was better at offensive than defensive fighting. The American Army had a quality, and the defect of that quality: it wanted to get to Berlin regardless of tactics. And while General Foch was trusting to time to prove to them that, pleasant or unpleasant, the tactics had to be observed, he turned their spectacular fire and exuberance to direct account.