There is also a little illuminated card, headed “Nelson’s Prayer,” that finely inspired supplication for victory which they found in the great Admiral’s cabin on board his famous flagship after he received his mortal wound. I have placed this beautiful prayer at the head of this chapter, because its plain, direct appeal, its confidence, and its dignity seem to me to be characteristic of the man on whom once again the hopes of the whole British race are fixed. That little English prayer is the only visible link between Sir John French and home in his workroom in France. The Commander-in-Chief spends the greater part of the day in this room. It is a place of hard work, of deep concentration, of lightning decisions on which hang the lives of thousands of men. You will find him there at all hours, dapper, fresh, as young as the youngest of his Staff, eternally giving the lie to his white hair and moustache. It is in this room that most of his despatches are written, those models of precise English that, without rhodomontade, false pathos, or exaggeration, set forth their plain tale of glory to make the Empire ring. Sir John French always writes his own despatches. His warm words of praise, his frank words of criticism, are absolutely the expression of his own thoughts. When he has a despatch to write he will shut himself up in this reposeful room for hours at a time, neglecting his meals, working far into the night, until the last word is written and his name affixed: “Your Lordship’s most obedient servant, “J. D. P. FRENCH, “_Field Marshal, Commanding-in-Chief, British Army in the Field._” In an army of hard workers, in the centre of the hive of industry that is G.H.Q., no man works harder than “The Chief.” Breakfast at the Commander-in-Chief’s is from 7.45 to 8.30, but long before that time Sir John French is at his table studying the reports which have arrived from the different armies during the night, and are awaiting his perusal when he comes down in the morning. Half-past eight finds Sir John at his place at the head of the breakfast-table, with a cheery greeting for everyone there. At a fixed hour there takes place the daily conference between the Commander-in-Chief and the different heads of the services at G.H.Q. The Generals arrive singly or in pairs from their offices, a portfolio under their arm--the Adjutant-General, the Quartermaster-General, the Chief of the General Staff, the Chief of Intelligence. For an hour or more they are closeted singly or together with “The Chief.” Operations past or future are discussed, the whole situation along our front reviewed, guns, men, supplies, the enemy’s situation, and his probable plans.