I suppose there has never been before so long a battleline as that which extended from the sea at Ostend right across Flanders and through Northern and Eastern France to the borders of Switzerland. The armies of the Allies were under the supreme command of General Joffre, whom Lord Kitchener described at the Guildhall banquet as not only a great soldier but a great man. Sir John French and the British Army fought mostly in Flanders, where they repulsed terrific onslaughts delivered by the flower of the enemy, notably by the famous Prussian Corps of the Guards. It is interesting to recall that among the British and French who thus fought side by side were descendants of heroes who had fought against one another on the field of Waterloo. For instance, a great grandson of the Duke of Wellington was, through his work in the Flying Corps, brought into daily touch with the Duke of Elchingen, a direct descendant of Marshal Ney. As the fighting grew fiercer, so the number of the wounded rose to terrible proportions. Splendid deeds of valour were performed by the men and women, doctors, nurses, and ambulance men, whose duty it is to bring in and care for the soldiers who have fallen on the battlefield. I must tell you of one truly heroic deed done by an English officer: After an engagement in which the Germans were repulsed, they fell back, taking with them all their wounded except one, who was overlooked. An English officer, having given the order “Cease fire,” himself went out into the open to pick up the wounded German. He was struck by several German bullets and badly wounded, but the Germans, as soon as they saw what his object was, also ordered the “Cease fire.” Thereupon our officer staggered to the fallen man and carried him to the German lines. A German officer received him with a salute, and, calling for cheers, pinned upon his breast an Iron Cross. Then the officer returned to his own trenches. He was recommended for the Victoria Cross for this notable example of chivalry, but he died of his wounds. The German soldier is sometimes a more gallant foe than is his commander. A couple of wounded Germans arrived at the hospital of Saint Mandier, Toulon, bearing round their necks cards on which had been written by the senior surgeon who had sent them there, the words: “These two Germans are recommended to the special care and attention of my colleagues, because they have saved a French officer.” It then appeared that on the field of battle these Germans lay by the side of a French officer, who, like themselves, was badly wounded. Presently there came along a party of German cavalry, who, seeing the Frenchman, proposed in a mean and cowardly way to finish him off. But the two Germans—believed to be Bavarians—would have none of it, and themselves defended the wounded Frenchman. When all three reached hospital, the French officer told the story.