As I motored to General Headquarters, methought the temple bells on Ganges banks were ringing, and the millions of devotees offering their prayers for their loved ones so far away, in a land which none could conjure up even in imagination. The voices of the muezzins were ascending from thousands of mosques, from the Afridi hills to the Deccan plains and away beyond, calling on Allah to protect their kith and kin and give them victory. The Golden Temple of Amritsar was sending up its call to Ishwar, with _fatehs_ for the soldiers of the Khalsa. On the mighty Himalayas, the home of the Highlanders of Nepal, the sturdy little Gurkhas, I could see many thousands who knew nothing of Europe or any land beyond their own, but who did know that their kinsfolk could die like men, and they were calling in their simple faith on the Creator to watch those who from loyalty to their King-Emperor had crossed the great unknown sea. And then the car stopped, and my vision faded, for I was at General Headquarters, and on a large table covered with small flags was the map of the British trenches, and standing beside it was the Field-Marshal Commander-in-Chief. I had only met Sir John French three times in my life, but even had I never met him before I would have been glad to serve under his command, for he spoke so directly and with a manner that proved his sincerity and his confidence in himself and his army. There was no bluster, but just a man in high authority speaking to another, who, he recognised, had a difficult task before him and meant to do his level best. I went away happy. I once asked one of my African soldiers, “Who is the greatest man in the world?” He promptly answered, “You are.” I asked him why, and he replied, “Because you are my Commander-in-Chief.” Simple fellow, but I felt rather like him for the moment. CHAPTER III From General Headquarters I proceeded to my billet at Merville for the night, and was met by the Frenchman, his wife and children, in whose house I was quartered. The room had only been vacated by another occupant an hour previously, and the hall and drawing-room bore the marks of hurry and scurry everywhere. I was often in the year to come to be the uninvited guest of other French people, but these were enough to show me the great heart of France; a heart so true and brave that it at first set one wondering what manner of people is this.