movements, threaten their line of communication, finally
cracking up the whole line and compel a further extensive falling back
to save their armies.

Against the front portion of this line we thrust ourselves early in
March, 1917, and our massed guns poured in the most terrible fire the
world had ever known. Lens was practically encircled--the Vimy ridge was
taken by assault, and dozens of villages captured, resulting in the
capture of eighteen thousand prisoners and over two hundred guns.
Hindenburg threw in his divisions with reckless extravagance; he knew
that if this section gave way all hope of holding on to Northern France
was gone. Time and again he sent forward his "cannon fodder" in massed
formation--targets which our guns could not possibly miss--and they
were mown down in countless numbers; his losses were appalling. In
certain places his attacking forces succeeded for a time in retaking
small sections of ground we had gained, only to be driven out by a
strong counter-attack. His losses were terribly disproportionate to his
temporary advantage.

I moved down to the extreme right of the British line; St. Quentin was
the goal upon which I had set my mind. In my opinion the taking of that
place by a combined Franco-British offensive with the triumphant entry
of the troops would make a film second to none. In the first place the
preliminary operations pictorially would differ from all previous issues
of war films, and in the second place it would be the first film
actually showing the point of "liaison" with the French and their
subsequent advance--making it, from an historical, public, and
sentimental point of view, a film _par excellence_. Therefore in this
section of the British line I made my stand.

I left my H.Q. early in April, 1917. I intended to live at the line in
one of the cellars of a small village situated near the Bois de Holnon,
which had been totally destroyed.

I proceeded by the main St. Quentin road, through Pouilly into
Caulaincourt. The same desolation and wanton destruction was everywhere
in evidence; but the most diabolical piece of vandalism was typified by
the once beautiful Chateau of Caulaincourt, which was an awful heap of
ruins. The Chateau had been blown into the Somme, with the object of
damming the river, and so flooding the country-side; partially it
succeeded, but our engineers were quickly upon the scene and, soon, the
river was again running its normal course. The floode