The Times, Tuesday, July 04, 1922; pg. 16; Issue 43074; col C
Our War Graves In France. “The King’s Pilgrimage.”, A Fitting Record.
OUR WAR GRAVES IN FRANCE
“THE KING´S PILGRIMAGE”
A FITTING RECORD.
THE KING´S PILGRIMAGE. (Hodder and Stoughton. 2s. 6d. net.)
The recent visit of the King to the War Cemeteries in France and Belgium- a visit understaken at his own desire- appealed strongly to the imagination of the people of the whole Empire. It has already been made the subject of a noble poem, “The King´s Pilgrimage,” by Mr. Rudyard Kipling; and is now commemorated in this volume bearing the same title published to-day. The proftis from the sale of the book are to be given, by the King´s wish, to the “philanthropic organizations which have for some time been assisting the relatives to visit the cemeteries.”
It is a fitting memorial of a great incident. It contains Mr.Kipling´s poem and over fifty illustrations from photographs taken in the course of the pilgrimage. All the photographs are good, and some make pictures of great beauty ; as conspicuously. a large double-page illustration in the centre of the volume. “The Last Post, Terlinethun,” and, or the smaller photographs, one of the King with Marshal Foch by his side, “Saluting the French colour Party” at notre Dame do Lorette, and one showing the party on the road “Leaving Etaples,” with the tall white Cross of Sacrifice in the brackground.
A SIMPLE TALE.
As potraits of his Makesty, also, many of the photographs are extremely good, notably the last illustration in the volume, showing the King staning alone looking at the row of wooden crosses, and one where he is issuing from the gate of the cemetery at Brandhook. The narrative letterpress is written by Mr.Frank Fox, and is simple and dignificed as it should be. Here and there are passages which it is impossible to read without profound emotion.
Tyne Cot Cemetery is close to the village of Psschendaele. Those who remember the hideous conditions under which our men fought in the later stages of the Flanders campagin of 1917, in the sea of waist-deep mud and foetid slime, will understand the dreadful significance of the fact that “of the nine thousand British soldiers buried in Tyne Cot Cemetery over six thousand are ´unknown´”.
Here again, is the fine incident briefly told. The King was walking with Marshal Foch and Lord Haig, who talked together earnestly:–
The King listened with keen interest, and was clearly delighted at the cordial comradeship of the two great soldiers. He turned to them at one point with the confident query: “Toujours, bons aimis, nést ce pas?” Marshal Foch replied with fervour: “Toujours, toujours, por les mémes causes et les mémes raisons, ” and grapsed Earl Haig´s hand. As the two ;arshals grasped hands in the grip of friendship…”