Remains only to be related the last actions of the Artillery. On the evening of the 25th it had withdrawn with the 62nd French Division through the forest south of the Roye-Noyon Road, coming under the orders of a new French Division, the 77th, on the morrow. On that day, when the infantry was beginning its grapple at Andechy, an important battle opened against the Germans debouching from Noyon, upon the line Cannectancourt--Canny-sur-Matz. Here the Germans made little progress. Attack after attack on the afternoon of the 27th was beaten off, the barrage fire being very effective and earning high praise from the French commanders. On the 28th the Germans succeeded in entering Canny, but made no progress elsewhere. On the morning of the 30th desperate German attacks penetrated some distance into the French positions, taking the vital height of Plémont Hill. In the afternoon, however, a brilliant counter-attack was carried out, splendidly supported by our artillery. The whole line was restored, and over seven hundred prisoners taken. The French now had their own batteries in action. On March the 31st the Artillery began its march back to Poix, the concentration area for refitment. It had carried out a great task in a manner worthy of the highest traditions of the Royal Regiment. If this narrative has been faithful, and if--a task far harder to accomplish--it has appealed to the imagination, there remains little need to discuss the causes of the greatest defeat suffered by British arms since York Town. The German victory was a victory of superior numbers, but it was more than that. It was a victory of training. While our thin-strung battalions were digging, Ludendorff trained his great host, collected astride the Oise. He taught it what armies were forgetting, how to advance without barrage or tanks. He instilled into it the offensive spirit, and saw that it reached the very corporals commanding light machine-gun groups. They it was who won him his battle.