We were travelling more slowly now; the road was becoming congested with transport and with batteries pulling into action. From lanes and cross-country routes which avoided Amiens, they began to pour into this main artery of traffic. Fully two-thirds of the transport consisted of motor-lorries, bringing up ammunition to the various dumps which were being established in rear of the point where the blow was to be struck. We crept along without lights of any kind, speaking to each other in whispers lest the Hun should become aware of the commotion of our progress. By day all this country had appeared to be naked and nothing had been seen to stir. The moment night had gathered every road and land had become as dense with traffic as Piccadilly Circus at the theatre hour. One wondered where so much energy had concealed itself, and marvelled at the army organization which knew to within a hundred yards where each separate group of energy could be found. Behind these speculations and imaginings lay a graver thought—the thought of all the men, horses and engines of war which had been pouring eastward for four years, only to dash themselves to pulp and blood, and to sink from sight in the debatable quagmire which separates the hostile armies. Where had so many come from? How much longer could the stream be kept flowing? Above our heads, like invisible trains slowing down as they neared their destination, the long range shells of the Huns roared and lumbered, and almost halted before they plunged screaming among the sullen roofs of Amiens. During the last part of the journey I nodded. It was midnight when I was awakened by the stir of my companions climbing out. “We’re here,” someone said. Where here was none of us knew, for the time being we were too sleepy to care. Everything was in total darkness; it was impossible to see more than a yard ahead. The air was stealthy with the muffled breathing of an immense crowd. You held out your hand to guide yourself and found it touching the leg of a mounted man. Then, as our eyes became accustomed to the blackness, we found that we were in a village street, packed with two streams of traffic, the one going up to the Front loaded, the other returning empty. We listened to the whispered orders—some were in English, but many were in French. So the French were going to be behind us!