Necessity knows no law; nevertheless, this desperate use which we are making of both human and four-footed material which is below par, makes itself felt when we are called upon for unusual efforts. We’re beginning to fear lest before the show starts, these forced night marches may use up our reserves of strength. We do not own that there are any limitations to our power to obey and suffer, but common-sense tells us that there is a point beyond which the flesh cannot be driven, however great the heart. Last night we were on the road from ten o’clock till seven this morning. It took two hours from the time when we pulled into our present place of hiding, till the men could lie down and rest. Very many of the horses had kicks and galls, all of which had to be attended to before anyone could think of himself. I call this our place of hiding purposely, for it is so obviously just that. We are in a high rolling country, cut up into shadowy patterns by deep ravines, and dotted where it lies nearest the sky by squares and oblongs and triangles of woods. It is in one of these protecting woods that we have our bivouacs and horse-lines. We are so well covered from sight that peasants in the nearest village, two miles away, do not suspect our presence. We have not found it necessary to warn the men against revealing themselves; they’re too played out to walk a yard further than is necessary. A glance at the map makes our game of guesswork grow interesting. We’re directly to the west of Amiens now; one night’s march would bring us into the line. Amiens is the great junction-point of the railroad system which feeds the entire British Front and which connects us up with the French. The Hun came perilously near to capturing it this spring; since then it has been vacated by its civilian population and kept by the Hun continually under shell-fire. The result has been that trains have had to make a ditour by branch-lines to get round behind the Amiens salient, and our military transportation, as a consequence, has been working under a heavy handicap. Every fighting-man has been aware of this, for whereas formerly one could buy almost anything within reason at the Expeditionary Force Canteens, since the spring stocks have not been replenished and only limited quantities have been allowed to be purchased by each person. There have been weeks together when one has had to scour the country far and wide to find a packet of cigarettes. After so much mystery and so many conjectures, it seems not unlikely that the push is to be put on to save Amiens.