' All round the Salient, and north and south of it far beyond
the horizon, the trenches were filled with watching men, weary from the
night's toil at digging or wiring or 'carrying' fatigues, but standing
ready until the dangerous hour of dawn should pass. It had been an
anxious week, for the wind was blowing from the enemy's lines, and night
after night the long warning call of the gas-gongs, followed in a moment
by the awakening of all the Salient into a ring of darting flames and
tremendous concussions as the guns were called into action, had brought
all ranks to their feet. But this morning no sound broke the strange
silence. It was hard to believe that hidden beneath the soil tens of
thousands of men were silently standing face to face. As the dawn lifted
I knew that everywhere in the ten-mile ring the British soldier was
boiling the water for his tea, very strong and very sweet, the first of
half a dozen tea brewings he would make that day. Another day of the war
had begun.
Surely so long as great deeds appeal to the British race those weary
miles will be always sacred.
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