On this point—­the general ineffectiveness of artillery fire when the enemy possesses good cover—­the history of modern warfare repeats itself.  The Russian bombardments of Plevna were quite futile, and General Todleben acknowledged that it sometimes required a whole day’s shell fire to kill a single Turkish soldier.  At the fight round the Malaxa blockhouse in Crete, at which I was present, the united squadrons of the European powers in Suda Bay suddenly opened fire on the hill and the village at its foot.  In ten minutes from eighty to one hundred shells came screaming up from the bay and burst amongst the insurgents and their Turkish opponents.  We all of us—­on the hill and in the village—­bolted like rabbits and took what cover we could.  The total net casualties from these missiles—­some of them 6-inch shells—­were, I believe, three, all told.

Some of those amateur critics at home who write indignant letters about the War Office labour under a twofold delusion.  They frequently ask indignantly how it is that our guns have been outclassed by those of the Boers?  As a matter of fact in almost every engagement of the present campaign our artillery has been superior to that of the enemy; but, of course, the artillery of a defending force, well posted on rising ground, possesses enormous advantages over that of the assailants, who have frequently to open fire in open and exposed positions easily swept by shrapnel fire from guns, which, hidden amid trenches and rocks, are often well-nigh invisible.

Another fundamental error in many of the indignant letters about the alleged defects of our artillery arises from a misunderstanding of the real value of guns in attacking a fortified position.  The most sanguine officer never expects his shells actually to kill or disable any very large number of the enemy if they are protected by deep and well-constructed earthworks.  Of course, if a shell falls plump into a trench it is pretty certain to play havoc with the defenders, but, when one considers that the mouth of a trench is some five or six feet wide, it is easy to realise the difficulty of dropping a shell into the narrow opening at a range, say, of 4,000 yards.  Moreover, some of the more elaborate Boer trenches are so cleverly constructed in a waving line like a succession of S’s, that even if a shell does succeed in pitching into one bit of the curve it makes things uncomfortable only for the two or three men who occupy that portion of the earthwork.  No, the real value of artillery in attack is to shake the enemy and keep down his rifle fire.  If shells are accurately fired the tops of trenches may be swept by a constant rain of shrapnel bullets, under which the enemy’s riflemen will of necessity suffer when they expose their heads and shoulders to take aim over the parapet.  But even in this case the shell fire must be extremely accurate if it is to be of any great use.  If shrapnel shells burst well, some thirty yards in front of the enemy, the