Eighty thousand prisoners,
between five and six hundred guns of different calibres, and more than a
thousand machine guns, had fallen to the Allies in four months and a
half. Many square miles of French territory had been recovered.
Verdun--glorious Verdun--had been relieved. Italy and Russia had been
helped by the concentration of the bulk of the German forces on the
Western front. The enemy had lost at least half a million men; and the
Allied loss, though great, had been substantially less. Our new armies
had gloriously proved themselves, and the legend of German
invincibility was gone.
So much for the first-fruits. The _ultimate results_ are only now
beginning to appear in the steady retreat of German forces, unable to
stand another attack, on the same line, now that the protection of the
winter pause is over. "How far are we from our guns?" I ask the officer
beside me. And, as I speak, a flash to the north-east on the higher
ground towards Pozieres lights up the grey distance. My companion
measures the hillside with his eyes.
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