But it is not my purpose to deal with the talk which was so prevalent towards the close of July 1914. Neither am I going to try to trace the history of the events which led up to the war which has staggered humanity. We all know now what Germany had in her mind: how by pretence, and deceit, and fraud she worked her will; how she thought that England would allow her to crush France and Russia without moving a finger. Germany thought that the English were blind, and that for the sake of gain we should remain neutral and never lift a finger while she swept over Belgium to crush France; thought, too, that we should be supine while she violated treaties and committed the most fiendish deeds ever committed in the history of the world. But it is not my purpose to speak of these things; I have to tell the story of a commonplace lad in a workaday town, and what influence the great world convulsion had upon his life. At first Tom was not much moved by the danger of war. For one thing he had given but little attention to public affairs, and for another thing he was enamoured with Polly Powell. Still he could not help being influenced by what every one was talking about. Local strikes, the rate of wages, and the quality of beer ceased to be the general subjects of conversation in the Thorn and Thistle. Every one was talking about a possible war. And when finally early in August the news came to Brunford that England had decided to take her part in the great struggle, Tom found himself greatly interested. "I'll tell you what," said Enoch Powell, the landlord of the Thorn and Thistle, "the Germans have bitten off a bigger piece than they can chew. I give them about six weeks. What can they do with Russia on the one side and France and England on the other? Besides, the German people don't want war. It's that blooming Kaiser. In about six weeks' time they will be on their knees crying for mercy." That was the general feeling of the town during the first fortnight of the War, and when as day after day the brave little Belgian army at Liege held out against the advancing Huns there was great confidence. "They have had their time-table smashed to smithereens at the first go," was the joyful comment. "Wait till our lads get across, they'll let 'em know."