The glory of the achievement lay not merely in the hourly repulse, over a period of fourteen days, of an overwhelming attack, and of a continued retirement, which somehow never broke, before such an inveterate pursuit. But there was also the big question of temperament. The Germans knew exactly what they wanted, and they went straight for it, backed by all the resources of their wonderful organisation working to that particular end for a decade of years or longer. The British, on the other hand, were thrust into the breach literally at the last moment, a week late, and then had to fight for a fortnight in total ignorance of the course of events. I recall a remark once made by General Joffre: "The better he understands the importance of the movements of the attack wherein he participates, the braver the French soldier fights, and the more trust he puts in the measures taken by his leaders." While the converse may not always be true, it will, I think, suggest how very difficult is the execution of a delicate piece of strategy when the officers and men are ignorant of the motives which prompt it. The Retreat was carried to a successful conclusion because, by the inherent qualities of race, it was a piece of work of a character in which the British Army has always excelled; and also, in face of the terrible engines of modern slaughter, because of the splendid discipline of the men and their training as individual human beings. Of the invariable cheerfulness of the men I have given several examples; but I would again attempt to correct the popular impression that such cheerfulness is no more than the cracking of jokes on all occasions. No, it is something far deeper and finer than that. The casual observer will watch a party of sappers mending a road, under fire, with loads of flint stones. He will hear them grumbling about the shocking waste of the ratepayers' money, and will then write home a letter for publication narrating the incident as a funny remark under fire. He omits to point out that it is only the cheery spirits of the men (and, of course, discipline, etc.) which make possible the clean finish of the work. So it was in the Retreat. The men were far too exhausted to crack jokes, but the unconquerable soul of them rose high above every obstacle, and so the work was done. Looking back over what I have written, I find that, quite unconsciously, I have said little or nothing of the work of the officers. Yet there is nothing else that I can say. It is not for me to remark upon the work of our leaders and of my brother-officers. I can only repeat the words of the Commander-in-Chief, and I venture to do so because the general public bothers but little with official dispatches.