In their eyes as they pass is not hatred, not excitement, not despair, not the tonic of their victory - there is just the simple expression of being here as though they had been here doing this forever, and nothing else.

I've been immersed in it too long. My spirit is wobbly and my mind is confused. The hurt has become too great.

Our artillery... The Germans feared it almost more than anything we had.

One of the parodoxes of war is that those in the rear want to get up into the fight, while those in the lines want to get out.

The closest fires were near enough for us to hear the crackling flames and the yells of firemen. Little fires grew into big ones even as we watched. Big ones died down under the firemen's valor only to break out again later.

I've really been sick with this cold, but I think I might have kept the columns going anyhow except I was just so low in spirit, I didn't have the will to struggle against them when my deadline was so close and I felt so lousy.

It was a night when London was ringed and stabbed with fire.