The Ridge seeped in one's very existence. You could see it as clearly
in imagination as in reality, with its horizon under shell-bursts and
the slope with its maze of burrows and its battered trenches. Into
those calm army reports association could read many indications: the
telling fact that the German losses in being pressed off the Ridge were
as great if not greater than the British, their sufferings worse under
a heavier deluge of shell fire, the increased skill of the offensive
and the failure of German counter-attacks after each advance.
No one doubted that the Ridge would be taken and taken it was, or
all of it that was needed for the drive that was to clean up any
outstanding points, with its sweep down into the valley. A victory
this, not to be measured by territory; for in one day's rush more
ground was gained than in two months of siege. A victory of position,
of will, of _morale_! Sharpening its steel and wits on enemy steel and
wits in every kind of fighting, the New Army had proved itself in the
supreme test of all qualities.
(This American correspondent relates thirty-one remarkable narratives
of adventure, all of which equal in human interest and historical
importance, the single narrative given above. He tells about his
experiences "Forward with the Guns;" "The Brigade that Went Through;"
"The Storming of Contalmaison;" "The Mastery of the Air;" "The Tanks in
Action;" "The Harvest of Villages;" "Five Generals and Verdun"--all of
which are notable historical records.)