stuck to the story that was ever being circulated: "We are luring the
Germans into a trap." It was impressed upon us, too, by "the Div." that
both at Mons and Le Cateau we were strategically victorious. We had
given the Germans so hard a knock that they could not pursue us at once;
we had covered the retirement of the 1st Corps; we had got away
successfully ourselves. We were sullen and tired victors, never
defeated. If we retreated, it was for a purpose. If we advanced, the
Germans were being crushed.

The Germans thought we were beaten, because they didn't realise we knew
we were victorious the whole time.

I do not say that we were always monotonously cheerful. The night after
Le Cateau we all thought the game was up,--until the morning, when
cheerfulness came with the sun. Then we sighed with relief and
remembered a little bitterly that we were "luring the Germans on."

Many a time I have come across isolated units in hot corners who did
not see a way out. Yet if a battery or a battalion were hard hit, the
realisation of local defeat was always accompanied by a fervent faith
that "the old Fifth" was doing well. Le Cateau is a victory in the
soldier's calendar.

Lè Cateàu and Là Bassèe,
It jolly well serves them right.

We had been ten days or more on the Aisne before we grasped that the
force opposite us was not merely a dogged, well-entrenched rearguard,
but a section of the German line.