The crossing of the stream may be said, upon the one side, to mark
the end of the battle and pursuit of the Marne, while, on the other,
it commenced that interminable Battle of the Aisne which was destined
to fulfil Bloch’s prophecies and to set the type of all great modern
engagements. The prolonged struggles of the Manchurian War had prepared
men’s minds for such a development, but only here did it first assume
its full proportions and warn us that the battle of the future was
to be the siege of the past. Men remembered with a smile Bernhardi’s
confident assertion that a German battle would be decided in one
day, and that his countrymen would never be constrained to fight in
defensive trenches.
The moral effect of the Battle of the Marne was greater than its
material gains. The latter, so far as the British were concerned, did
not exceed 5,000 prisoners, 20 guns, and a quantity of transport. The
total losses, however, were very heavy.
Apart from the losses, the mere fact that a great German army had
been hustled across 30 miles of country, had been driven from river
to river, and had finally to take refuge in trenches in order to hold
their ground, was a great encouragement to the Allies. From that time
they felt assured that with anything like equal numbers they had an
ascendancy over their opponents.
[Illustration: WAR IN THE AIR: A DUEL OVER THE FIRING LINE.
_Reproduced by permission of “The Illustrated London News.”_]
III.
A GLIMPSE OF CANADA IN FLANDERS.[C]
By LORD BEAVERBROOK.
[C] _From “Canada in Flanders” (Vol. I.). By Sir Max Aitken.
(Hodder & Stoughton.)_
The end of the month was marked by one or two very daring
reconnaissances by Lieutenant Owen, of the 7th (British Columbia)
Battalion, up the bed of the Douve River, and by a great aeroplane
battle.
The aeroplane battle occurred upon a morning warm and bright with
sunshine. The conditions were admirable for flying and observing, and,
as usual, a German Albatross took advantage of them. Soaring high
against the warm blue of the sky, over Bailleul, over the headquarters
of a division, over our brigades and trenches and back again, it
glinted like silver in the morning sun. The snow-white blobs of
bursting shrapnel from our anti-aircraft guns followed its graceful
sweeps and curves--followed and followed, but never caught it up; and
thousands of our men stared after it. But a more dramatic spectacle was
in store for the watchers on the brown roads and in the brown trenches.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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