ng back to useful
citizenship Australians blinded or maimed in the war.

C. E. W. Bean.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

Preface

1. A Padre who said the Right Thing

2. To the Front

3. The First Impression--A Country with Eyes

4. The Road to Lille

5. The Differences

6. The Germans

7. The Planes

8. The Coming Struggle: Our Task

9. In a Forest of France

10. Identified

11. The Great Battle Begins

12. The British--Fricourt and La Boiselle

13. The Dug-outs of Fricourt

14. The Raid

15. Pozieres

16. An Abysm of Desolation

17. Pozieres Ridge

18. The Green Country

19. Trommelfeuer

20. The New Fighting

21. Angels' Work

22. Our Neighbour

23. Mouquet Farm

24. How the Australians were Relieved

25. On Leave to a New England

26. The New Entry

27. A Hard Time

28. The Winter of 1916

29. As in the World's Dawn

30. The Grass Bank

31. In the Mud of Le Barque

32. The New Draft

33. Why He is not "The Anzac"

LIST OF PLATES

Australians Watching the Bombardment of Pozieres

Sketch Map

"Talking with the Kiddies in the Street"

"An Occasional Broken Tree-Trunk"

No Man's Land

Along the Road to Lille

The Trenches here have to be Built Above the Ground in Breastwork

A Main Street of Pozieres

The Church Pozieres

The Windmill of Pozieres

The Barely Recognisable Remains of a Trench

The Tumbled Heap of Bricks and Timber which the World Knows as Mouquet
Farm

"Past the Mud-Heaps Scraped by the Road Gangs"

[Illustration: Rough sketch showing some of the German defences of
Pozieres and the direction of the Australian attacks between July 22 and
September 4, 1916. (From Pozieres to Mouquet Farm is just over a
mile.)]

LETTERS FROM FRANCE

CHAPTER I

A PADRE WHO SAID THE RIGHT THING

_France, April 8th, 1916._

The sun glared from a Mediterranean sky and from the surface of the
Mediterranean sea. The liner heaved easily to a slow swell. In the waist
of the ship a densely packed crowd of sunburnt faces upturned towards a
speaker who leaned over the rail of the promenade deck above. Beside the
speaker was a slight figure with three long rows of ribbons across the
left breast. Every man in the Australian Imperial Force is as proud of
those ribbons as the leader who wears them so modestly.

Australian ships had been moving through those waters for days. High
over one's head, as one listened to