The Seed of Empire by Fred M. White

For perhaps the last time the German phalanx had hurled itself regardless of cost on that small piece of ground near the town of Ypres. That spot will never be forgotten, but will go down to posterity as the most costly piece of ground ever struggled for in the history of the world. Month after month Germany has struggled for it, had shed the best of her blood and lost the bravest of her first line of troops, to say nothing of a kings ransom expended on ammunition in a futile struggle for what appeared to be no more than a mere heap of ruins. The Kaiser has set his heart upon Calais, just as Queen Mary did, and with much the same result; and it may be that when history comes to pronounce its verdict it will be found that a madman's wild ambition was the cause of his downfall.

This had been going on now for months--one magnificent regiment after another had been flung headlong against the British trenches only to be driven back or wiped out altogether, and yet wearily dragging months saw the eagles no nearer the end of that terrible journey. And it was much the same too in whatever direction the greedy bird of prey turned his bloodshot eyes. He had his successes here and there, no doubt, but each of these was at a cost that no country can repeat many tines and live. And so it was at Ypres, until the foe fell sullenly back, never perhaps to attempt another advance, or, on the other hand, to recommence the hideous slaughter which hitherto had been in vain. For May was passing, and June was at hand, and England's great armies that had been slowly gathered together since last summer were getting ready. Indeed, hundreds of thousands were ready now to come out and help those gallant fellow countrymen who had done so much during all those terrible months. And goodness knows they had earned their rest; goodness knows they had paid a big enough price to save Europe from the fate which had threatened it.