And in response the salute of the great man seems to say:  “I heartily appreciate the deference which you have shown me, and honour it the more as it comes from such a man as you.”  Like the bow of a Versailles courtier, it has its finer points, and is not to be learnt either soon or easily.

The men were called round without any formality, and Sir John French began immediately to address them.  It was not the first time that the Subaltern had heard him speak.  As Chief of the Imperial General Staff, he used to inspect and address the Cadets of the Royal Military College, Sandhurst, at the end of each term.  And he did it well.  The Subaltern remembered the sight of the long parade—­“three sides of a square” the formation was called—­and the Generals with the skirts of their “frock” coats and the feathers in their hats blowing in the wind.  But in spite of the absence of red coats, and the stiffness of parade, this was a more moving harangue than any he had heard on the parade ground at Sandhurst.

The Field-Marshal said that the greatest battle that had ever been fought was just over.  It had rolled with the fury of a cyclone from Belfort to Mons. Nearly two million men had been engaged, and the British Army had emerged from the contest covered with glory, having for three days maintained an unbroken front in the face of an overwhelming superiority in numbers.  Never had he been more proud to be a British soldier than he was that day.  The Regiment had added yet another branch to its laurel wreath.  It had more than sustained its ancient traditions for endurance and courage.  He was proud of it.

The enemy had been nearly five to one, and yet had been unable to inflict defeat upon them.  If they had been “broken,” the whole of the French left would have assuredly perished.  Thanks to their endurance and obedience in the face of great provocation and privation, the Allied armies were now free from the dangers that had threatened them.  No one knew better than he did that they would continue to be as brave, as reliable, and as soldierly in the future, as they had been in the past, until final victory had been fully accomplished!....

How they cheered him as he made his way to his car!

At first the Tommies had not realised what was happening.  There had been disturbing cries of “What’s all this abart?” “Oo’s the ’ole bloke?” But they had soon ceased, and in a few seconds the men were crowding round with eager faces, hanging on the words of their leader.  He commiserated with them upon their losses; he understood what they had been through.  In a word, he appreciated them, and in the Army appreciation is a “rare and refreshing fruit.”  Although they would have died rather than own it, there was a feeling of tears behind the eyes of a good many of those tough old warriors.  The personality of the Field-Marshal, and his heartening words, had brightened many a grim face, and lightened many a heavy load.