railway. One
follows so closely upon another that the rear truck of the first is
rarely out of sight of the engine-driver of the second. These trains are
full of British soldiers. Most of them are going to the front for the
first time. They are seated everywhere, on the trucks, on the roof--legs
dangling over the edge--inside, and even over the buffers. Presently
they arrive at their goal. The men clamber out on to the siding, collect
their equipment and are ready for a march up country. A few children run
alongside them, shouting, "Anglais!" "Anglais!" And some of them take
the soldiers' hands and walk on with them until they are tired.

Now the trenches are reached, and the men break into single file. But
the occasion is not the usual one of taking over a few trenches. _We are
relieving some sixty miles of French line._ There is, however, no
confusion. The right men are sent to the right places, and everything is
done quietly. It is like a great tide sweeping in, and another sweeping
out. Sixty miles of trenches are gradually changing their nationality.

The German, a few yards over the way, knows quite well what is
happening. A few extra shells whizz by; a trench mortar or two splutter
a welcome; but it makes little difference to the weary German who mans
the trenches over against him. Only, the new men are fresh and untired,
and the German has no Ally who can give him corresponding relief.

It has all been so quietly done! Yet it is really a great moment. The
store of man power which Great Britain possesses is beginning to take
practical effect. The French, who held the long lines at the beginning
of war, who stood before Verdun and threw their legions on the road to
Peronne, are now being freed for work elsewhere. They have "carried on"
till Great Britain was ready, and now she is ready.

* * * * *

This was more than the beginning of a new tour of duty [says another
witness]. I felt the need of some ceremony, and I think others felt the
need of it too. There were little half-articulate attempts, in the
darkness, of men trying to show what they felt--a whisper or two--in the
queer jargon that is growing up between the two armies. An English
sentry mounted upon the fire-step, and looked out into the darkness
beside the Frenchman, and then, before the Frenchman stepped down,
patted him on the shoulder, as though he would say: "These
trenches--_all right_!--we'll look after them!"