ve become accustomed in this war, but the story
of their fighting will remain immortal and in its psychological and
strategic consequences the action will take rank, I believe, among the
decisive battles of the war.

I am not speaking from hearsay. I was in France during the week
preceding that battle, the most anxious and gloomy period, probably, of
the entire war. What I am about to relate is based either on
authoritative information gathered on the spot, or on my own
observations. In telling it, nothing is farther from my thoughts than
to wish to take away one tittle from the immortal glory which belongs
to the Allied armies, nor from the undying gratitude which we owe to
the nations who for four heart-breaking years, with superb heroism,
fought the battle of civilization--our battle from the very beginning,
no less than theirs--and bore untold sacrifices with never faltering
spirit.

JUST BEFORE THE TIDE TURNED

On the 27th of last May the Germans broke through the French position
at the Chemin des Dames, a position which had been considered by the
Allies as almost impregnable. They overthrew the French as they had
overthrown the British two months earlier. Day by day they came nearer
to Paris, until only thirty-nine miles separated them from their goal.
A few days more at the same rate of advance, and Paris was within range
of the German guns of terrific destructive power. Paris, the nerve
center of the French railroad system and the seat of many French war
industries, not only, but the very heart of France, far more to the
French people in its meaning and traditions than merely the capital of
the country; Paris in imminent danger of ruthless bombardment like
Rheims, in possible danger even of conquest by the brutal invader,
drunk with lust and with victory! As one Frenchman expressed it to me:
"We felt in our faces the very breath of the approaching beast."

And whilst the Hunnish hordes came nearer and nearer, and the very roar
of the battle could be dimly and ominously heard from time to time in
Paris, there were air raids over the city practically every night, and
the shells from the long-range monster guns installed some sixty or
seventy miles distant fell on its houses, places, and streets almost
every day.

They were not afraid, these superb men and women of France. They do
not know the meaning of fear in defense of their beloved soil and their
sacred ideals. There was no outward manifestati