From this brief account of what Sir John proposed to do, you will understand the great difficulty of the task imposed upon his army. There is nothing so difficult in warfare as to make a fighting retreat when pressed by superior numbers. Think of what it means. While one division is beating back the enemy, another division is marching to the rear; and when it reaches a certain point it faces about and takes up the work of holding the foe, while the first division marches to _its_ rear and prepares to bear the brunt of attack, in order that the second division may retire and begin the business all over again. In a fighting retreat there is not a moment's rest for anybody. While one part of the army is fighting, another part is marching; and no matter how weary the marching men may be, they must be ready at any moment to form a firing line, while their comrades in front scramble out of their trenches and hurry to the rear. In such a fighting retreat as this the greatest skill and judgment are required of the commanders. If they withdraw their men from the firing line too soon, the superior numbers of the enemy will drive them back on the marching columns and involve both in a common ruin; if they keep their men too long in the firing line, the enemy will probably destroy them or cut them off. Any error of judgment on the part of the commanders during such a retreat is almost sure to be fatal. The men, too, must be as steady as a rock. They must hold on to their positions, however hopeless the task may seem, and not budge until the word is given, even though their comrades are rapidly falling around them. Happily, in this retreat our commanders were cool and skilful, and our men were seasoned soldiers, capable of holding on with grim determination like British bulldogs. Several times during the retreat small British detachments failed to receive the order to retire. Probably the messengers carrying the order were shot or captured on the way. Nevertheless, these groups of men fought on with never a thought of retreat, until they were reduced to a mere handful, and further resistance was useless. Other small bodies of British soldiers lost their way, and some of them wandered into the German lines and were made prisoners. One man, David M. Kay, of the 5th Lancers, strayed from his comrades, and, worn out with fatigue, fell exhausted on the road. Later on he found a resting-place in a deserted carriage. Thirty-six hours went by, and then the Germans appeared and fired on him. Though he was alone against an armed host, he returned the fire and shot down six German officers before he fell, riddled with bullets. The French in the village hard by were so impressed by his dauntless courage that they buried him where he fell, and above the mound that marks his last resting-place set up a wooden cross. For days afterwards they strewed his grave with fresh flowers. * * * * *