On the 27th February 1915 I arrived in England on ten days’ leave, my first from France, and as I had not been home for over two years it was a pleasant prospect. I did not, however, get my full leave, as I was recalled on the fourth day, but I could well afford to give it up for it was in order to receive the decoration of “Grand Officer of the Legion of Honour” which the French Government had conferred on me. It was very good of Sir John French to recommend me for this, which I prize as one of my highest rewards. My four days were very busy ones, and I had the honour of being summoned to see His Majesty, who made inquiries regarding his Indian soldiers, and sent them a most encouraging message. Lord Crewe, then Secretary of State for India, asked my views on many matters connected with Indians, amongst others the question of granting them commissions on the same footing as British officers. I have already written of this. I had the pleasure of a long talk with Mr. Lloyd George whom I met for the first time. When I left I had, like vast numbers of his countrymen, no other opinion than that I had conversed with one of the greatest living men. His assurance that all would be well, and his magnetic manner, sent me away more convinced than ever that he would be the man who would eventually guide us to a victorious peace. Next day I dined with Neil Primrose, who had been serving on my Staff in France, and there met Colonel Winston Churchill and many others prominent in politics. Much of the talk turned on the Indians, and all were most enthusiastic in their admiration of their loyalty. What, however, struck me most was the note of something approaching pity more than one of them manifested at their hard lot. Now there were no grounds for such; the men were, of course, undergoing great hardships, but so were others, and if the ordeal was harder for them to bear it was only the luck of war. What I and many others of the seniors in the Corps felt was that people in England believed that the Indians could not stand the severe climate. They, like other mortals, were open to criticism, but did not ask for pity and resented it, and I was always very careful to keep my lips closed as to this phase of the situation when the native officers and men asked me (as they always did) what I had heard about them in England. The following day I lunched with Winston Churchill, and later had him as my guest for half a day in France. I had first made his acquaintance after my return from Ashanti in 1901, and every time I have met him since I like him better. There is something very taking in his character; he always appears to be quite sure that whatever he is doing is the best that can be done, and I think he is generally right. I have met many others who claim to be like this, but are in reality anything but sure. It is a treat to talk to him, and if I were a young man with life before me I would sooner serve with him than almost any one I know.