gings. Then,
before one could say "Jack Robinson!" not another civilian, not
another crop, nothing but a vast waste of land; no life, except Army
life; nothing but devastation, desolation and khaki.

CHAPTER VI (p. 042)

THE SOMME (SEPTEMBER 1917)

About this time I got a telegram from Lord Beaverbrook asking me to
meet him the next morning at Hesdin (Canadian Representatives' H.Q.);
so I left Amiens early, arriving at Hesdin about 11.45 a.m. There they
handed me a letter from him explaining to me that something very
important had happened, and that he had left for Cassel. Would I have
some lunch and follow him there? I lunched alone at the H.Q. and
started for Cassel, where I arrived about 2.30, and found a letter
telling me that he found that the aerodrome from which he wanted to
get the news he desired was not near Cassel, so he had left, but would
I meet him at the "Hotel du Louvre," Boulogne, at 4 p.m., as his boat
left at 4.20? Away I went to Boulogne, and walked up and down outside
the "Louvre." About ten minutes past four up breezed a car, and in it
was a slim little man with an enormous head and two remarkable eyes. I
saluted and tried to make military noises with my boots. Said he: "Are
you Orpen?" "Yes, sir," said I. "Are you willing to work for the
Canadians?" said he. "Certainly, sir," said I. "Well," said he,
"that's all right. Jump in, and we'll go and have a drink." So down to
the buffet we went, and we had a bottle of champagne in very quick
time, and away he went on to the boat, without another word, smiling;
and the smile continued till I lost sight of him round the corner of (p. 043)
the jetty. A strange day: I wondered a lot on the way back to Amiens,
where I arrived about 9.45. I never knew then what a good friend I had
met.

[Illustration: XVI. _A Grave in a Trench._]

As before, in Cassel, I first began to realise how wonderful the
workwomen of France were, so in Amiens I began to realise how
different the young men of France were to what one was brought up at
home to imagine. I had always been led to believe that an Englishman
was a far finer example of the human race than a Frenchman; but it
certainly is not so now. The young Frenchman is a keen, strong, hardy
fellow, and his general level of physical development is very high.

I remember this was brought home to me by having baths at Amiens.
There was one bathroom in th