It will be like that again; stoutness of heart will carry us to success long after our bodies have backed down on us. From the first crack out of the box this is going to be a V. C. stunt for every man who takes part in it; that there won’t be enough V. C’s to go round doesn’t trouble us. To have been privileged to share in such an undertaking will be reward enough and a sufficient decoration. We’re going to bust the Hun Front so completely that it will never stand up again. We’re going to make a hole in his defences through which all the troops which are behind us can rush like a deluge. We’re going to achieve this end by the element of surprise and the devil-may-care ferocity of our attack. The effect will be like the breaking of a dam: we shall spread and spread till the military arrogance of Germany is flooded out of sight and only the steeples and roofs of the highest houses show up above the ruin’s surface to mark the spots where the ancient menace was trapped and drowned. Last night we found our lorries waiting for us at a cross-roads; they were headed in the direction of the road which was marked To Amiens. The sun was sinking behind the uplands as we set out; the last sight we had as we looked back through the golden solitude was our brigade of artillery slowly winding like a black snake out of the wood and losing itself in a fold of the hills. The Colonel was silent; he gave us no information, save that we were going forward to choose battery positions and alternative routes for bringing in our guns and ammunition in case some of the routes were shelled. For the rest, we conjectured that the lorries were taking us past points where it would not be wise for the brigade to travel. We had not been going long, when we began to pass Australian Infantry, first of all we met them in isolated groups, strolling down the lanes and through the wheat, two and two, with their arms about the waists of peasant-girls. Very often the girls had plucked wild-flowers for their lovers, and had stuck them in the button-holes of their tunics or had pinned them against the brims of their broad slouch-hats. One wondered with how many soldier-men these girls had walked since the war had started, and how many of their soldier-men still remained above ground to kiss the lips of a living girl. Without being told, there was something of false flippancy and yearning in their attitude which made us understand that these lovers for a moment were taking their last stroll together. Like the Canadians, they are storm-troops, and will be lost in the smoke of battle before many days are out.