It is interesting to note that it was the gallantry of the Highlanders in covering the retreat of the Allied Forces at Fontenoy which received the special praise of the Commander-in-Chief. Fontenoy was their maiden experience of a foreign foe. I want you specially to remember what our soldiers in this war have owed to what is called the Army Service Corps. You will recollect my telling you that Napoleon said an army marched on its stomach. All that is necessary for the physical well-being of our men is done quickly, quietly, and very bravely, by the officers and men of the Army Service Corps. Their adventures are often as perilous and exciting as those which befall the fighting soldier. They all have to bear the weight of considerable responsibility and ever-present anxiety. The enemy always does his best to harass, intercept, and, if possible, destroy the food which is on its way to our men. Not food only for the men, but forage for the horses is under the care of this wonderful Corps. Never was the triumph of their organisation shown to such advantage as during the fighting retreat with which we are now concerned. On one occasion the Germans, who, remember, were close on the heels of the British motors and waggons, were particularly anxious to get hold of a train of forty motor lorries stocked with food and ammunition. In addition to these were also several hundred horsed waggons similarly loaded. At last, when close to St. Quentin, which was to be the next great stand, the men in charge of this huge convoy were informed that the Uhlans were only a mile away. The colonel in command made certain inquiries. To his dismay, he learnt that not only his men but their horses also were so dead tired that they could not go on any more. He, therefore, made up his mind to stay in the little village where they found themselves, and if attacked to put up a stout fight. Wearied though they were, each was sent with a loaded rifle to a place on the line he was to defend. The waggons were all drawn up in the funny little narrow winding streets which make a French village not unlike an old Scottish town. In a very short time everything was in order to receive the enemy. I have not yet told you much of the fate of ordinary people during a great war, but you can fancy for yourselves how the inhabitants of this village felt when they realised that their home was about to be made into a battle-ground. The wise colonel of our forces advised that all the village people should go into the church, and there the curé arranged to hold a service. The lady who generally played the organ eagerly gave her services, and soon the English soldiers guarding the convoys were heartened by hearing the sweet singing of French and Latin hymns.