It seems in a sense horrible to write in this
cold-blooded way about one who was once a moving, breathing man, one who at the moment recorded in this particular attack gave his life for us and for all we hold dear. And yet we venture to say that though our words may seem callous, no one who sees the picture will feel that the gallant soldier who met his death on the parapet is dishonoured by such commemoration. Certainly there was nothing but the deepest sense of respect for a brave soldier shown by the audience when the present writer saw the film. After all, the moving picture is but a new kind of writing, a new way of describing and recording human action. We should none of us think it cold-blooded to read some eye-witness's account of how the men went over the parapet and how one man in the very act of climbing received a bullet or scrap of shrapnel in the head and how he fell back into the trench, cut off at the very moment when the warrior's exaltation is at its height.
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