Of all the people moving in advance of the brutal German line, one’s sympathies must go out to the women. “It has been my good fortune (continues Mr. Massey)—for though it was a sight which made one feel the terrible penalties inflicted by war, it brought out vividly the nobler side of humanity—to be very near the fighting line in the past two days, and I have watched many a case of women’s heroism. It was not the self-denial of Red Cross nurses that impressed me most. To that one is accustomed. But the long procession of weary women, cheerfully encouraging children, hungry and tired and footsore, or with bones aching from the jolting of farm carts, was a picture of splendid courage, which made you understand how a nation becomes resolute in face of war. The women play their part silently and without complaint. Of the thousands of big-hearted women I have seen during the past sixteen days in France, I need only refer to one. She is an example of the patriotic Frenchwoman of to-day. I met her at a town which was evacuated, and she was proceeding with a splendid son of France, aged ten, and a delightfully talkative little girl of eight, to a place where her children would be safe from the oppression of an enemy. This cultured lady is the wife of a captain of cavalry who is doing a patriot’s work. As she looked back at her home at Longwy she saw a lifetime’s treasures burnt, but the sadness of her heart was not betrayed to her children. To them she merely indicated that a gallant father’s regiment would see to it that they returned home soon. Horses and vehicles were required for the country’s service, so the mother and children walked through French lines to where they thought they would be safe. They proceeded west, and went through Marville (where “Daddy” was fighting), on to Charleville. Here they rested and waited, not dreaming that a weakened left wing would cause the whole French line to retire and force a re-assembling on positions further south. But strategy is left to men in France, and when word was sent round that the inhabitants of Charleville should leave their dwellings, the cavalry officer’s wife and children gave up seats in the last south-bound train to old people and trudged over rolling ground for thirty kilometres before they reached a railway line which still provided a train for civilians. When I saw this family the mother had not tasted food for three days, and the children did not want to eat while the mother starved. The bright eyes of the boy were not dimmed by the exhaustion of bearing his part in carrying a bag too heavy for his immature shoulders, and it was glorious to see the comfort he was to his mother.