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up the cemeteries on the Canal bank, notably the large one at Essex Farm, where our Divisional Memorial now stands. The fewer the men, the heavier became the work, especially as the weather grew worse. Rations, trench grids, wire, etc., had to be carried up by night; the battalions in support had no more rest than those in the line, and wheeled transport stopped at the Canal, 1,000 to 1,500 yards in rear.
    ‘Trench feet’ made their appearance, and someone in our very energetic Division conceived the bright idea that this was due to want of exercise, and could be cured by imposing more labour on men worn out by overwork, exposure, and want of sleep. We got it down eventually by the aid of dry socks sent up nightly with the rations and ‘gumboots, thigh.’ We were several times seriously attacked, but they always found us wide awake, and we never lost a yard of ground.
    I landed in France with four subalterns; when we had been a month in the Salient I had one, and my platoons were very well commanded by sergeants. The first time we got a real barrage, the one thing the company wanted was for the attack to develop and ‘get it ovvered with.’ The keynote of the whole business was hard labour and insufferable boredom. Something to shoot at was what we needed, but hardly ever did the Germans give even a sniper a target.
    I honestly believe that no other troops in the world but British would have held the Salient, and no other generals but ours would have asked them to do it, or conceived such a line to be worth holding. It was a triumph of sentimental over military considerations. From the German point of view, the Salient was a spot where they could always depend on a regular supply of Englishmen to slaughter with the minimum of loss to themselves. They thought at first that it was also a place where they could break through when so disposed; and, by all the rules of commonsense, it was. There were good positions prepared in rear, but there were no troops to put in them. However, the Second Battle of Ypres taught them that no ordinary rules applied to that thin khaki line in its untenable and absurd positions.
    In August the Brigadier took me out of the line to be Staff Captain of the Brigade, and my work and way of life entirely changed.
    The War as a whole was a crime and a tragedy. But it was not the same from both sides. The Germans set out to achieve a purpose. They underestimated the task and failed. We set out to prevent that purpose, and to that extent we succeeded. The men on both sides were sacrificed, as they always have been, to retrieve the errors of the statesmen and the generals.
    But sharing toil, exhaustion, hardship, and danger does not destroy a man’s soul. The soldier is not the man who makes war – he is the man who offers his life to end it.
    Major F. L. Watson was mobilized with his Territorial battalion in August 1914, in command of a company, proceeding to France in April 1915. From August 1915 until March 1917 he was Staff Captain of an infantry brigade in France, being recalled on the latter date at the instance of the Ministry of Munitions for technical service. He was subsequently sent to the Admiralty for similar service, and was demobilized in 1919. Mentioned in Despatches, July 1916. Military Cross, January 1917. Territorial Decoration, July 1920. Retired with rank of Major, November 1921
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THE FIRST GAS ATTACK
Anthony R. Hossack
    It was Thursday evening, April 22nd, 1915. In a meadow off the Poperinghe-Ypres road, the men of the Queen Victoria Rifles were taking their ease. We had just fought our first big action in the fight for Hill 60. We had had a gruelling time, and had left many of our comrades on its slopes. We survivors were utterly spent and weary; but we felt in good heart, for only an hour ago we had been personally congratulated by Sir John French, also the Army Commander, General Smith-Dorrien.
    Now some of us were stretched out asleep on the grass, others making