But
that by the way. The outstanding feature of the relationship
between officers and men during all this long, laborious, sometimes
heart-breaking winter has been this--that, despite the rawness of
our material and the novelty of our surroundings, in the face of
difficulties which are now happily growing dim in our memory, the
various ranks have never quite given up trying, never altogether
lost faith, never entirely forgotten the Cause which has brought us
together. And the result--the joint result--of it all is a real live
regiment, with a _morale_ and soul of its own.
But so far everything has been purely suppositious. We have no
knowledge as to what our real strength or weakness may be. We have run
our trial trips over a landlocked stretch of smooth water. To-morrow,
when we steam out to face the tempest which is shaking the foundations
of the world, we shall see what we shall see. Some of us, who at
present are exalted for our smartness and efficiency, will indubitably
be found wanting--wanting in stamina of body or soul--while others,
hitherto undistinguished, will come to their own. Only War itself can
discover the qualities which count in War. But we silently pray, in
our dour and inarticulate hearts, that the supreme British virtue--the
virtue of holding on, and holding on, and holding on, until our end is
accomplished--may not be found wanting in a single one of us.
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