This was once a land of grassy, tree-filled, primeval swamps. Even after three years of war its scrubby desolation still gave the impression of a forest clearing. The plain is part of the one that runs from the Pyrenees to Russia, the only gateway into France which bypasses formidable mountains and plateaus. Flanders at any time is a monotonous countryside. There are no landmarks except houses and the gentlest of ridges.
Single hills are rare.
One of the few is Mount Kemmel, the loftiest peak in all the land, three hundred fifty feet high. During the rainy seasons the rivers cannot discharge their waters because of the faintness of the gradient. Most of them flood once or more yearly. When they do, they spread their waters far and wide. Many of them have been straightened and canalized.