positions was beginning to develop, appeared on the extreme left flank of the Allied forces, manœuvring towards the East in the effort to outflank the Germans. Here, out of a struggle of cross-purposes, there emerged, little by little, the outlines of a titanic battle for the possession of the Channel coast. The Belgian army had fallen back from Antwerp upon the sea, covered by an army corps pushed from the coast in a precarious venture towards Bruges and Ghent; and the handful of British divisions stood between the picked troops of the Germans and the goal they had failed to value before it was lost. Many of these generals tasted the bitter savour of those days when it seemed impossible that flesh and blood could withstand the unceasing onslaught of ever fresh troops—of the Bavarians, the Guard, and picked Prussian regiments—and of the pounding of an overwhelming weight of metal. German critics have said that this army was one of non-commissioned officers, and certainly not even the racial stubbornness could have saved the situation if it had not been wedded to high ability, if undaunted courage had not been equalled by the resolute skill of the command. The first battle of Ypres was the first in which the Germans and the British fought à outrance, and no one to-day is ignorant of the result. The Germans broke off the engagement and thereby acknowledged their defeat. The British had not turned the line. That was impossible with their resources. But they had held the Germans off from their goal and inflicted upon them one of the bloodiest defeats in history.

Henceforward the war presented a different problem to the command. The last battle of the war of movements on the Western front had been fought for the time being and the war of positions held sway. In the months that followed, Britain had to build up an army commensurate with the task she had assumed. For every soldier of the pre-war army she had to find about ten, and her generals had to teach the new armies their business. The action of Neuve Chapelle showed the British army making its début in one of those carefully-planned limited attacks against entrenched positions which have been developed, with growing experience, out of all recognition. Loos was a more ambitious venture. In it there appeared volunteer troops to astound seasoned veterans by their dash and discipline. But the lessons of Neuve Chapelle had not been perfectly digested and too much was attempted. The result, in its larger aspect, was less achievement than the promise of overwhelming success in the future. In these two battles the British commanders firmly grasped the elements of the problem that confronted them, and proved the worth of the new Armies. They were to apply this knowledge in the most mighty battle the world has seen.

It was the battle of the Somme that first revealed the true formidableness of the new British armies. The opening of this terrific campaign was pitched for the fifth month of the Verdun struggle. The offensive against modern entrenchments seemed to be in eclipse. Four months' pounding by the seried masses of the German guns and carefully arranged assaults by picked troops had failed to reach the enemy objective. The deduction that seemed inevitable was that the offensive was bound to be extremely costly and productive of little. It was in this atmosphere the Somme battle opened against positions that had been elaborated by two years of care and cunning. The course of that bitterly contested campaign re-established the offensive as a paying proposition. All manner of engagements were fought out in that area. Some positions were carried at the point of the bayonet. Others were encircled so that the garrisons had to evacuate them or choose between annihilation and capture. But, by whatever means, one fell after another. The experience gained was assimilated and the armies marched from strength to strength. On at least one occasion the British were only cheated of a decisive and overwhelming victory by an unkindly fate that brought bad weather when the armies were straining to go forward. A flank was opened in the German lines and through it the German army steadily bled away until an unwonted prudence conquered Prussian pride and the great strategic retreat was carried out. By that retreat, carried out under the compulsion of the British army, the Germans admitted to the world the strategic nature of the Somme campaign success.

By the retreat the Germans hoped to gain a respite. The victory of Vimy Ridge was the unwelcome reality to which that dream materialized. This position was one that was formidable from its natural conformation to begin with, and it had been turned into an obstacle which almost justified the German confidence in its impregnability. The assaulting troops had the advantage of only a limited surprise. The Ridge overlooked the British positions, and little could be done between Arras and La Bassée that was not detected by the German observers. Yet in two days the position was carried with 11,000 prisoners and 100 guns. And it was but three weeks since the enemy had carried out the retreat that was to cut the ground from under the British plans. The British losses were comparatively light; everyone could see that if the battle were to become a precedent, the decisive defeat of Germany was assured.

Just two months later, the capture of Messines Ridge proved conclusively that the success could be repeated against another of the strongest sectors of the line. But the victory on this occasion was even more remarkable. The position was so advantageous to the Germans that the enemy troops had been urged to fight to the last. The ridge overlooked the whole of the Ypres salient which had been held so staunchly against every handicap. The assault differed greatly from that on the Vimy Ridge. The tactics were different in detail though the outlines were the same; but the attack was equally kept under the control of the command and swept forward to a similar success. These two battles of the 1917 Campaign made it clear that the British had solved the general problem of the German defensive, and at the same time they revealed the intimate dependence of victory upon the control of the commanders. In a war that seemed to be given over to mechanics, engineering and physics, that was frequently regarded as a mathematical problem, they showed that leadership is still the paramount factor in the art of warfare.

Such then is the versatility of these leaders. The war has cast upon them the burden of meeting every sort of warfare. They have come triumphantly through the ordeal, winning a grudging praise from the enemy, and the more unmistakeable approval of attempts at imitation. They have shown themselves as resourceful in devising new machines and methods of attack as they are experienced in the orthodox fighting of other days. The war may have new experiences for them, but it cannot daunt or check them. They have seen the worst. They have come through dark places to the approaching light of day. Their record is our best assurance for the future.

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FIELD-MARSHAL SIR DOUGLAS HAIG, K.T., G.C.B., G.C.V.O., K.C.I.E., A.D.C.

SIR DOUGLAS HAIG was born in Fife on June 19th, 1861, of a family which has played a great part in the annals of the Scottish Borders. He was educated at Clifton and Brasenose College, Oxford, of which he is an Honorary Fellow. He is almost the only great soldier of modern times who has passed through the curriculum of an English University.

He joined the 7th Hussars in 1885, and, after passing through the Staff College, served in the Soudan Campaign of 1898, being present