On December 1, 1915, Colonel Estienne wrote an official letter to the Commander-in-Chief of the French Armies in which he outlined the idea of a new engine of war exactly as Colonel Swinton had done earlier in the year to our own War Office. A few days later he was given an interview at French General Headquarters, when he was able to enlarge upon his theories as to the new arm. Here he must, one conjectures, have received some encouragement, for about a week afterwards he visited the Schneider Engineering Works in Paris and discussed mechanical details with the management. But the good seed which Colonel Estienne had sown at Headquarters would, he knew, take some time to germinate. He returned to his command, now the artillery of the 3rd Corps, at that time before Verdun. All the while he kept unofficially in touch with the Schneider Works. At last, about February 25, 1916, he learned that the Under-Secretary’s Department for Artillery had decided to place an order for 400 armoured vehicles with Schneider’s. But about two months later, at the end of April, he heard a more surprising piece of news. The Under-Secretary’s Department had, without the approval of the Commander-in-Chief or any notice to him, Estienne, placed an order for a further 400 vehicles of a different and heavier type, driven by a petrol-electric motor. Curious as was their parentage, these 400 machines were actually made and were known as the St. Chamond Tanks. It is said to have been upon stolen drawings of this type that the Germans afterwards based their still heavier, “Hagens” and “Schultzes.” In the course of the summer, the new French Ministry of Munitions formed an experimental and instructional area at Marly-le-Roi, and in the early autumn, Colonel Estienne was gazetted to the command of the French Tanks, and, as we have said, to be delegate, as far as this arm was concerned, from the Commander-in-Chief to the Ministry of Munitions. Like the British, the French were beginning to need a name for their new engine of war. But more logical than we, instead of an absurd, if pleasant, nickname, they chose “Artillerie d’Assaut,” which they contracted into the letters “A.S.,” as being more agreeable to the ear than “A.A.” Apparently Colonel Estienne had no preliminary inkling of what our activities had been in the “Land Cruiser” direction. It is interesting to conjecture how eagerly he must have read of what was happening on the Somme during the fortnight before he was finally gazetted to his new post. His “heart” must, indeed, have been “at our festival” when the British Tanks were everywhere acclaimed by the public, and when even the most conservative soldiers had to admit that the new weapon had at least earned a right to further trial.