He told me that the Germans were
advancing in two columns about ten miles apart, flanked in the west by a
French division pushing them east, and led by the English drawing them
toward the Marne. "You know," he said, "that we are the sacrificed
corps, and we have known it from the first--went into the campaign
knowing it. We have been fighting a force ten times superior in
numbers, and retreating, doing rear-guard action, whether we were really
outfought or not--to draw the Germans where Joffre wants them. I reckon
we've got them there. It is great strategy-Kitchener's, you know."
Whether any of the corporal's ideas had any relation to facts I shall
never know until history tells me, but I can assure you that, as I
followed the corporal downstairs, I looked about my house--and, well, I
don't deny it, it seemed to me a doomed thing, and I was sorry for it.
However, as I let him out into the road again, I pounded into myself
lots of things like "It hasn't happened yet"; "Sufficient unto the day";
and, "What isn't to be, won't be"; and found I was quite calm. Luckily
I did not have much time to myself, for I had hardly sat down quietly
when there was another tap at the door and I opened to find an officer
of the bicycle corps standing there.
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