It is hard to recapture the spirit of that day we entered Lille. Other things since have blurred its fine images. At the time I tried to put down in words the picture of that scene when, after four years’ slaughter of men, the city, which had seemed a world away, was open to us a few miles beyond the trench-lines; the riven trees, the shell-holes, and the stench of death, and we walked across the canal, over a broken bridge, into that large town where--how wonderful it seemed I--there were roofs on the houses and glass in the windows, and crowds of civilian people waiting for the first glimpse of British khaki.…
Your support pays for translating these classics into more languages.
Support for $12/month DonateSubscribers read with instant translation, without waiting for the free daily limit.