Transcriber's Note:

Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has been preserved.

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. For a complete list, please see the [end of this document].

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WITH OUR FIGHTING MEN

"WE BESEECH THEE TO HEAR US GOOD LORD."[ToList]

See page 57.

With
Our Fighting Men

THE STORY OF
THEIR FAITH, COURAGE, ENDURANCE
IN THE GREAT WAR

BY

WILLIAM E. SELLERS

Author of "From Aldershot to Pretoria"

WITH COLOURED AND OTHER
ILLUSTRATIONS FROM DRAWINGS AND FROM
PHOTOGRAPHS

London
THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY
4 Bouverie Street & 65 St. Paul's Churchyard

PREFACE[ToC]

In sending forth this book I wish to acknowledge the kindness and co-operation of many friends, new and old, who have made my task easy and my story, so far as possible, complete.

In the first place, I express my hearty thanks to the Rt. Rev. Bishop Taylor-Smith, D.D. (the Chaplain General); Revs. E.G.F. Macpherson, M.A., and F.G. Tuckey (senior Church of England chaplains at the front); Rev. J.A. M'Clymont, D.D., V.D. (Convener of the Church of Scotland General Assembly's Committee on Army and Navy chaplains); Rev. J.H. Bateson (Secretary of the Wesleyan Methodist Army and Navy Board); Rev. J.H. Shakespeare, M.A. (Secretary of the Baptist Union of Great Britain and Ireland, and of the Free Church Army and Navy Board); Rev. E.L. Watson (senior Free Church chaplain at the front); General Booth and Brigadier Carpenter (of the Salvation Army); Mr. A.K. Yapp (General Secretary of the Young Men's Christian Association); and several others.

In the second place, I acknowledge with gratitude the help I have received from reports in the Methodist Recorder, Methodist Times, United Free Church of Scotland Record, Church Pennant, Baptist Times and Freeman, Guardian, Guy's Hospital Gazette, War Cry, and many other papers, to the respective editors of which I tender my thanks.

I also wish to express my cordial thanks to my colleague, the Rev. E.G. Loosley, B.D., for the painstaking care with which he has revised the proofs of my book.

I hope and pray that the story recorded in these pages may quicken interest in Christian work among soldiers and sailors, and so help to extend the kingdom of Christ.

W.E.S.

Rochdale,
April 1915.

CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

The Military Cross.
The New Decoration for Special Gallantry of Officers. Already several Army Chaplains have won it.[ToList]

INTRODUCTION[ToC]

The story I am about to tell is one of surpassing interest. It is the story of Christian life, work, and heroism among our troops at the front.

The soldier is easily moved to good or to evil. In the past evil influences have been more powerful and more numerous than influences for good. Our soldiers had been drawn, for the most part, from classes outside all churches and Christian influences, and the wet canteen had been the most popular institution in the Army.

For the last twenty-five years, however, the situation has been altering for the better. The day-school has done its work, and a free education has accomplished splendid things for the working-man. The Sunday-school, too, has extended its scope and has of late years been more efficient than ever before. There has been a steady levelling up of the people, and the Army has risen with the rest. Said a soldier to me during the South African war: "They think we are the same as we used to be, but we are no longer the scum of the earth."

Slowly and surely the work done outside the Army has been reflected in the Army. The Army Temperance Association, the Soldiers' Christian Association, the Soldiers' Homes provided by the churches, and other uplifting organisations have found that they were working on soil to some extent prepared. The soldier has responded readily to the appeals made, and the Soldiers' Homes have become as popular as the canteens, and often more so. A Soldiers' Home in a camp has meant at once a change for the better. The senior officers have recognised this fact, and have gladly welcomed every Christian effort on behalf of their men.

I remember, when Bordon and Longmoor camps were formed, with what joy my colleagues and I were welcomed by the officer in command. Everything he had was placed at our disposal, a hut was apportioned to us, and we furnished it, for the most part, from furniture belonging to the camp. Everything was very rough in those days, and the roads well-nigh impassable; but when we got there what a welcome we had! The late Colonel Gordon, R.E. (nephew of Gordon of Khartoum), lent us his piano and his wife often played it for us.

I was standing on Petersfield Station platform one night looking sadly at a group of drunken and half-drunken soldiers, when a non-commissioned officer came up, and, after saluting, said, "They would not be like that if you had a Home for them, sir."

By and by it was not only a hut we had, but a permanent Soldiers' Home, and when it was opened by the Earl of Donoughmore, it became crowded at once. Brigadier-General Campbell stood our friend through all those difficult days, and rejoiced as much as we did in the prosperity of the Home.

It must be remembered also that for many years past there has been an increasing leaven of Christian men in the Army. The Home to which I have just referred could not have been the power it became had it not been for this. I remember a lance-corporal who, so far as he knew, was the only Christian in his regiment. He used to go out among the solemn pines at night and pray for his comrades. Soon another joined him there, and many another, and by the time the Home was opened we had a company of Christian men ready to work among their fellows.

During my ministry in Aldershot I saw this illustrated in much larger measure, and the Christian men were, all of them, Christian missionaries working with great success.

I have already told the story of Christian work during the South African war in my book "From Aldershot to Pretoria." The story is one for which all the churches may well thank God. Though that war was child's play compared with this, the higher war waged—the war for Christ and His Kingdom—was one of constant victory. Large numbers of men gave themselves to Christ, and when the war was over remembered the vows they had vowed to Him.

Now we have witnessed a mobilisation of Christian forces, such as would have been impossible hitherto. The Chaplaincy Department has developed into a great and well-organised agency for good. Over two hundred chaplains are already at the front, and the ministers of all the churches are busily at work in the camps at home. All the old Christian and temperance organisations are to the fore, only developed out of all former knowledge, and the Young Men's Christian Association has astonished and delighted the whole Christian world.

The Christian men in the Army—more numerous before the war broke out than they had ever been—are carrying on their noble work and are constantly receiving additions to their ranks.

We have known for years what Thomas Atkins was like—susceptible as a child. I have heard sobs all over the room while picture slides of a little child's story, such as "Jessica's First Prayer," were being shown. But what will the new army be like? Will it be as susceptible as the old? Will the men still thrill when the Gospel story is told? They are different men—men drawn from all classes, actuated by a common purpose to save their country. Will they think only of that, or will their hearts also be "strangely warmed" by tidings of their Saviour's love? Already the answer comes to us "Yes." Never before has such deep seriousness fallen upon our men, and in their quiet moments, and even amid the stress of battle, thoughts have turned to Christ and hearts have been surrendered to Him.

"The truth of the matter is," wrote the Bishop of London, in the Times, after his visit to the front at Easter, "that the realities of war have melted away the surface shyness of men about religion; they feel they are 'up against' questions of life and death; and I have heard of more than one censor who has for the first time realised the part religion bears in a soldier's life by censoring the innumerable letters home in which the writers ask for the prayers of their relations or express their trust in God."

It is the purpose of the following pages to tell, so far as it is possible, in these early months of the war, something of the Christian work attempted and accomplished among our men at the front and at sea, and to answer the questions I have just asked.

WITH OUR FIGHTING MEN

CHAPTER I

AT THE HOME BASE

Enlisting—"Good-bye"—Excitement and Drunkenness—Then came Kitchener's Army—The Churches gave of their Best—A Canvas City—Not for Pay, These—What the Churches Did—The Home Church in the Camp—A Powerful Christian Leaven—Theological Students Volunteer—What the Boys Did—Organising Religious Work—Fifty Men Stood Up—The Y.M.C.A. Tents—A Proud Boast—At Work in the Tents—A Typical Service—The Canadian Y.M.C.A.—What the Salvation Army is Doing—The Church Army at Work—Huts of Silence—W.M. Hut Homes and "Glory Rooms"—Hymn 494—Teetotal Soldiers—Lord Kitchener's Message—The Work of the Navy Chaplains—The Sailors' Homes—Work among the Wounded in Hospital—Hospital Stories.

A troop train slowly passing through Winchester Station. Heads out of every window. One great shout by hundreds of eager young lads, "Are we downhearted?" And then, not waiting for those of us on the platform to answer, the emphatic response "No!"

Winchester Station looked strange that morning, early in August 1914. Its dignified quiet had gone. No one would have dreamt that this was the station of an ancient cathedral city. Armed sentries were posted at every point of entrance and departure. With fixed bayonets they guarded the signal-boxes. Their beds were in the waiting-rooms. The whole station was given up to the military.

And this was not the only case. All down the line it was the same, while every few yards by the side of the metals, all the way to Portsmouth and Southampton, soldiers with fixed bayonets were on guard. Here and there Boy Scouts were assisting, and enjoying themselves immensely.

Portsmouth Harbour at that time was closed to ordinary traffic. The few passengers who still ventured to the Isle of Wight, in what should have been the height of the holiday season, had to betake themselves to Southampton, and be thankful if after long waiting they could get across from there.

The Solent was full of troop-ships. We counted over forty at one time waiting to take troops across, while many more were in Southampton Water. The Isle of Wight was an armed camp. At night search-lights played all over it.

What touching farewells there were! Stand on almost any platform and see—that is if you have the assurance to look on at that which is sacred. A mother brings her little ones to say good-bye to their soldier father. An old woman with difficulty slowly comes to the edge of the platform to give her blessing to her soldier son. A wife is locked for a few brief moments in a loving embrace.

The father, or son, or husband brushes the sleeve of his tunic across his eyes, and then, as the train begins to move, says "Good-bye. I'll soon be back!" And as the train steams out those brave lads ask again, "Are we downhearted?" and the mothers and wives and sweethearts, with tears streaming down their faces, strive to answer "No!"

Those were stirring times at Aldershot. The old scenes at the outbreak of the war in South Africa were re-enacted, only on a larger scale. That was mere child's play to this, and every one realised it. Incessant coming and going as troops gathered from all parts of the country. Military bands marching detachments to the station on their way to the front.

At first there was much drunkenness, for this is generally the case where there is much excitement. But soon a serious feeling crept over all, and the town grew more sober in every respect. Our troops were going to fight the greatest military power in the world, and every man realised that it would be a struggle such as this country had never known before.

By and by our regular troops had departed, and the "Terriers" began to come in. A workman-like lot of men these, shaping like good soldiers. In their thousands they had volunteered for active service, and to active service after a period of training they should go.

And then came Kitchener's Army. And what an army! The appeal had gone forth for half a million men, and then for another half million, and by and by for still another million.

The response was magnificent. Never was our country so great as in those days when Kitchener's Army was being formed. The rush of recruits was overwhelming. It seemed as though the whole body of young men in the country would volunteer.

The churches were to the front in this matter. All suspicion that the churches would prove unpatriotic was blown to the winds. They had been training their young people for peace, but when their country was threatened they were ready for war. They had, many of them, been strongly opposed to conscription, but it was no conscript army which was being embodied; it was an army of free Englishmen.

The churches gave of their best. The vicarages and manses of the country were denuded of their sons. In some Sunday-schools the young men's classes volunteered to a man. In many places it was only with great difficulty that the work of the Sunday-schools was carried on, because the male teachers had enlisted. From the Nottingham Wesleyan Mission went five hundred young men.

All sorts and conditions of healthy young manhood responded to their country's call. Kipling's lines, true of the regular army, were prophetic when applied to Kitchener's Army of those days:

Parson's son, lawyer's son, son of the parish squire,
Garden hand, stable hand, hand from the smithy fire,
Counter boy, office boy, boy from the dock and mine,
Eat together, sleep together, follow the drum in line.

And the young women would have gone too, if they could. It went hard in those days with a sweetheart who was not disposed to volunteer. And the young women did go. The rush of volunteer nurses was tremendous and had to be checked. We shall hear of their good work as we progress.

Aldershot was taken by storm by Kitchener's Army. At one time there were a hundred and fifty thousand men in the camp. Seeing that the barrack accommodation in the camp is not for many more than fifteen thousand in normal times, it was evident that the only way to meet the new conditions was to create a canvas city, and a canvas city it became. There were many miles of tents.

It was a sight indeed to see Kitchener's Army drill. The rush was far too great to be met by the Army clothing factories, and for many weeks there were no uniforms, and the men drilled and were drilled by other men in ordinary civilian clothing.

One could see the varied occupations of the men who had enlisted. Here is a man, great of girth, who will need to have his size reduced considerably ere he rushes at German trenches, and he still wears the leggings with which he trudged across his fields. Here is a man who evidently a few days ago held in his hand the yardstick with which he measured his calico. He is bent on sterner work now.

Here, again, is one from the pit and another from the mill, and a third who looks as though he had been a lawyer or a lawyer's clerk. And drilling them all is a man who evidently a few days since was hewing coal from a Welsh mine. He is back to the colours now, but will have to wait for his transforming uniform.

But all eager, all intense. No work for pay this. "Mercenaries" the Kaiser called them, but no mercenaries these—England's best and noblest ready to give their lives for the land they love so well.

It was a happy thought which allowed men who had been accustomed to live and work together to form their own battalion or regiment; and so we had the Public School Corps, and the Pals' Brigade, and many another. Fastidious young men from West End drawing-rooms proved that they had the hearts of true Englishmen, and worked hard as the rest. Later on, in one hut were men whose income was said to average £2000 a year. They were just privates.

From the religious point of view it was a great opportunity. Nearly every church in the land had sent of its best and had done its best to honour those who went. "Rolls of Honour," containing the names of those who had gone from that particular church, hung in the porches. In many, Sunday by Sunday, the names on the Roll of Honour were read out and special prayer offered for them.

The young men had left their homes and churches with the voice of prayer ringing in their ears. They knew that they were going to serious work and that many of them would never return. The most careless of them were serious now, and were ready, if the impression did not pass away, to give themselves not only to their King and Country, but to the King of Kings.

And right earnestly was the work begun in the Home Church continued in the camps. These camps were established all over the country, for Aldershot and Salisbury Plain were altogether inadequate. To all such camps chaplains were appointed, and, for the first time, the Baptists, Congregationalists, Primitives and United Methodists, who, except in the great military centres, had stood out of the Army work, had their appointed chaplains—not many as yet—but sufficient to show that they also felt the need and were ready to do the work. They have since joined forces for this service, and are carrying on their united work by Free Church chaplains.

The entry of the Free Churches into the Army work is of such general interest that I asked the Rev. J.H. Shakespeare, M.A., Secretary of the Baptist Union of Great Britain and Ireland, to send me a brief account of the facts. Mr. Shakespeare replied under date of February 10, 1915.

"Up to ten years ago, the sentiment among Baptists and Congregationalists was not very sympathetic towards the Army, and there was no provision on the Attestation Sheet for the entry of men as belonging to these two denominations. I then secured a column for this purpose, which has been in use ever since, but I do not think it has been very effective.

"When the war broke out, our churches were practically unanimous in their support of the Government. At that time about three thousand troops were entered under our two denominations. I went to see the late Mr. Percy Illingworth, who interested himself very warmly in the proper recognition of Baptists and Congregationalists. Large numbers of our young men began to enlist. The Rev. R.J. Wells and I, through interviews at the War Office, secured that orders were sent out directing that men were to be entered according to their religious professions. Mr. Lloyd George brought the matter under the notice of Lord Kitchener, who strongly resented any sort of sectarian unfairness and wished our recruits to have the same facilities as those of other denominations. Meanwhile, Mr. Wells and I collected the names and regiments of Baptist and Congregational recruits, with the result that we are able to announce the following figures, though more than a third of our churches have made no reply:—

"In spite of what had been done, a great mass of certified evidence began to reach us that recruiting sergeants were refusing to enter our recruits as Baptists or Congregationalists, but were putting them down to some other church. Of this we have exact evidence. Further orders were then issued by the War Office that this must not be done.

"At the beginning of the war there were only two Baptist Chaplains to the Forces—Rev. F.G. Kemp at Aldershot, and Rev. J. Seeley at Woolwich. The War Office now asked our Army Board to nominate additional provisional chaplains, both for home camps and for the Expeditionary Force, and, in addition, that ministers should be appointed for any place where there was a considerable body of troops as 'officiating clergymen,' still carrying on their churches, but having the right to hold church parade, visit in camp, hospitals, &c. Of these a large number have been appointed. In addition, Congregational chaplains were appointed.

"The next stage was that we were approached from the Primitive Methodist and United Methodist Churches asking to be grouped with us for Army and Navy purposes. The result has been the formation of a United Army and Navy Board for the four denominations, and our chaplains and officiating clergymen have charge of soldiers and sailors belonging to these four churches.

"The next step was that an appeal was made by the Rev. R.J. Wells, for the Congregationalists, and myself, for the Baptists, for an 'Army Tent and Chaplain Fund,' the result being that we have raised a sufficient sum to enable us to erect permanent institutes or huts with chaplains, or 'officiating clergymen,' in about half a dozen camps. The Primitive Methodists and United Methodists are taking the same course, and together we shall shortly have a considerable number of such huts available.

"Concurrently with this we have succeeded in securing appointments for 'officiating clergymen' and chaplains for the Navy and at naval stations, though some of our chaplains hold a double position, both to the Army and Navy."

From the character of the response it was evident that there was a powerful Christian leaven working in the Army itself.

To begin with, there was a wholesale offer by Christian ministers for chaplaincy work. Not a tithe of the offers could be accepted, and then was witnessed a sight such as has never been seen before. As they could not be accepted as chaplains, a large number of ministers of religion enlisted as private soldiers, and these from practically all the churches.

Certainly the proposal that the clergy should volunteer as combatants was not favoured by the ecclesiastical authorities. The Archbishop of Canterbury recognised the prima facie arguments used by the younger clergy in support of such action, but concluded that fighting was incompatible with Holy Orders.

However, many, with the Archbishop's consent, enlisted in the Army Medical Corps, and are devoting themselves to the sick and wounded. Among the Wesleyans, the matter was left to the judgment of the men concerned. Some enlisted in line regiments, but the majority also entered the Army Medical Corps. In one barrack room of the R.A.M.C. at Aldershot, we hear of five Church of England curates and one Wesleyan minister. So far as we know the other Free Churches adopted the same line as the Wesleyans.

The Theological Colleges were not slow to follow the example of the ministers, in fact in many cases they led the way. Both in this country and in Scotland a large proportion of the students volunteered—so many in fact that it has become a serious matter for the immediate future of the churches.

The Church of England has been suffering from a dearth of candidates for its ministry for years past, and, as the Times says: "The great reduction caused by the war may quite seriously affect the Church's efficiency." However, these young men evidently thought that they might serve their Church and its Divine Lord as well in the ranks as in the pulpit, and might serve their country at the same time, and they went.

This was a new army—new in every respect. Never before had Christian ministers and young men in training for the ministry volunteered, in any numbers, as private soldiers; but the call had been imperative, and they were out to save their country. They took their religion with them and made it felt.

Still another great work for the Army has been done by the Christian churches. In an important article in the Times of January 1915 we were told:

"It is impossible to give an adequate account of the valuable work done by the different churches in providing men for the Army through the various Lads' Brigades and Boy Scouts. The Boys' Brigade is the senior and largest of these organisations; it has many branches throughout the Empire, with a present total strength of 115,000. Many of its members have enlisted. The Church Lads' Brigade had in 1913 a membership of 60,000, besides two junior organisations, the Church Scout Patrols and the Church Lads' Brigade Training Corps. It has also contributed a very large number of recruits. In London the Diocesan Church Lads' Brigade, which forms part of the Cadet Force of the country, sent practically every officer eligible and nearly every cadet of seventeen years of age to join the regular forces soon after the declaration of war. Many of these have been in action, and the following casualties have been reported: Killed, two; wounded, thirty-two; missing, six; invalided, five; prisoners, two. These Boys' Brigades have become very popular. Besides those already mentioned there are the Jewish Lads' Brigade, the Catholic Boys' Brigade, the Boys' Life Brigade, and the Boys' Naval Brigade. Three of the new V.C.'s have been won by former Brigade lads. On behalf of all these admirable organisations the Lord Mayor of London has issued an appeal for financial support, pointing out that 225,000 of those now serving with the colours have been prepared for their work by one or other of these organisations."

The Government heartily backed the efforts of the churches. In addition to the chaplains of all denominations, others for whom no appointments could be found were allowed to go to France at their own or their friends' expense, to render to the soldiers what spiritual help they could.

Services for the men in training were organised everywhere. Schools, vicarages, and manses were turned into temporary soldiers' homes. Wherever they came, the men found the churches ready to receive them. They supplied them with literature to read and with writing materials, provided refreshments, organised religious services, and did their best, not only to cater for their social needs, but to enlist them into the Army of Jesus Christ.

Numbers of the soldiers were preachers too, and supplied the pulpits of the Free Churches where they were stationed. They occupied choir stalls, taught in Sunday-schools, and generally helped to carry on the work of the churches. Many of these Christian lads were themselves unofficial chaplains among their comrades.

At Aldershot and the other great military centres, the work of the churches was naturally of the best. Never was the opportunity so great, and never was the response so rapid.

Take, for instance, the report that comes to us from Grosvenor Road Wesleyan Military Church, Aldershot. Grosvenor Road Church dominates the town. It is a noble Gothic building, its tower visible for many miles. It is locally known as the "Wesleyan Church of England." It is, of course, customary for it to be crowded at the Parade services, but now it was thronged with soldiers at the voluntary services also. Wesley Hall at the back and the Soldiers' Home Lecture Hall at the side were thronged at the same time. On one Sunday evening, when the appeal was made for decision for Christ, fifty men stood up in the midst of eleven or twelve hundred of their comrades, to avow that they did then and there give themselves to Christ. It was no easy matter for a soldier to do, but it was done, and similar scenes were enacted on many occasions.

Drawn by Arthur Twidle.

WHEN THE LADS DEPART.
One of Kitchener's army salutes his mother as he leaves.[ToList]

Let no one suppose, however, that this was the only place where decisions for Christ were registered. Nearly all the churches could make some such statement, though perhaps they could not speak of such large numbers. Never a night passed but some soldiers gave themselves to Christ, in the "Glory Rooms" of the various soldiers' homes. The chaplains and the Army Scripture readers were busy all day and often far into the night: by day visiting the men in barrack room and tent, in the evening conducting services for them, and at night writing letters on their behalf.

It is impossible to chronicle such work as this. Much of it is too sacred to be told. Many of the best workers are the slowest to speak of their work, and where all did their best—their very best—it is invidious to mention names. But on every hand we hear of spiritual results surpassing all previous experience in work among soldiers—work which the Great Day will declare.

It must be borne in mind that the men were ready for this spiritual work. The times were serious and they were serious too. It must also be borne in mind that splendid preparatory work had been done in the churches and Sunday-schools of our land. And now that the spiritual need was felt, the response was rapid, and the Sunday-school teacher far away reaped the result of his labour.

I turn now to another class of work, the work of the Young Men's Christian Association. For many years the Y.M.C.A. has been identified with social and Christian work in the Army. It has had its tents wherever soldiers have gathered for their training, and during the South African War it rendered most efficient and appreciated service.

Since the outbreak of the present war it has to a large extent suspended its ordinary work, in order that it might establish a system of recreation tents and reading rooms in all the naval and military camps. It is the boast of the Association that it has not refused a single request for a tent, and by the end of March 1915 it had 700 centres in different training camps, each with its wooden "hut" or canvas tent.

Not only are they in England, but in Scotland and Ireland, and by and by upon the Continent also. When the Canadians came they found the Y.M.C.A. ready to receive them. Six buildings were erected for their use, and the largest of these measured a hundred feet by thirty, with wooden walls and floor, and a canvas roof.

Coffee is served in these extemporised Soldiers' Homes from five o'clock in the morning to the end of the day. Everything that it is possible to do for the soldiers' comfort is done. In one of these tents 5000 letters were written and posted in one week. In the evenings "Singsongs" are arranged, and hundreds of thousands of a popular Christian songbook have been sold. Literature, largely provided by such agencies as the Religious Tract Society, abounds.

On Sundays the "Homes" are given over to the ministrations of the chaplains. All denominations are welcome, and the freedom of the buildings is also allowed for services to the Roman Catholics and the Jews.

Over 3000 voluntary helpers have taken part in this work as well as the staff of the National Headquarters, while 95 per cent, of the general secretaries throughout the country have acted as supervising agents. We do not wonder that the Association has received the thanks of the Government.

May I describe one service in a Y.M.C.A. tent? It is Sunday evening. The various Parade services of the morning have been held, the Church of England in the open air, and the Congregationalists and Wesleyans in the tent. But now a sergeant is in charge, and for half an hour he allows the men to choose what hymns they like, and right heartily do they sing. But now an Anglican archdeacon is on the platform, and with eager words and practical advice is urging the soldiers to live as Christian gentlemen. Then follows a Wesleyan minister with many a story and many an appeal. Then a Congregationalist minister, in quieter vein but with restrained earnestness. There are Christian songs between the addresses and many an audible response from the "Tommies" to the word of exhortation spoken. It is a re-union of the churches, proving that at heart they are all one in Christ Jesus, and it is made possible by the work of the Y.M.C.A.

In the case of the Canadians, the Y.M.C.A. is actually a part of the military force, and that is a remarkable thing. Six of the Canadian officers of the Association in the first contingent were at the same time officers in the Canadian Army, and were told off to the service of the Y.M.C.A., but they were none the less officers for that. In this way the Association is recognised, and the officers can go with the men right into the trenches, and do. Fine men were these first six officers, four of them with the infantry brigades, one with the cavalry, and one with the artillery.

The Salvation Army is also doing this work in its own way, but on a smaller scale. Writing to the Times in October 1914, Commissioner Higgins said: "We have established centres of work by permission of the authorities in about forty camps, and others are in course of preparation. We have many indications that the men highly appreciate what is being done. In one centre alone, on one day recently, we received 2000 letters for men in camp.

"In addition to personal help—which is so valuable when men are separated from their families and friends—there are opportunities for reading and writing, simple recreation and rest, and we are, so far as possible, holding bright and happy meetings, where men who know something of the power of Christ are able to urge upon their comrades the love and service of God. It seems to us that these cannot but be of the highest advantage to the men when they come to face those dreadful ordeals which must lie before many of them. Salvation Army officers have been appointed by the authorities concerned as chaplains for various units, both in the forces coming from Canada and New Zealand."

Everyone who knows anything of Christian work in the British Army knows how efficient is the service rendered by the Salvation Army, and its Salvation soldiers are always at work bringing other soldiers to Christ.

The Church Army is, and also has been, at work. Prebendary Wilson Carlile reports that it has supplied tents in a number of the larger stations, tents which were welcomed everywhere, and in which the same class of work has been done as in those of the Y.M.C.A. The "Lord Kitchener" tent in Hyde Park, close to the Marble Arch, has proved to be an admirable institution, and has afforded an object lesson as to how this work should be done.

At the request of Bishop Taylor Smith, the Chaplain General, a new departure in Christian work among the troops has been taken. In twelve different camps small chapels have been built, each 30 feet by 20 feet. In each chapel are a Lord's Table and chairs, and there is a small room, 5 feet by 8 feet, for interviews with the chaplain. These chapels are called "Huts of Silence" and are intended for quiet meditation and prayer. It is a new experiment and will be watched with much interest. Tommy is a gregarious creature, and how he will take to silence remains to be seen. There is, however, opportunity for all classes of Christian work in the ever-growing British Army.

In connection with the Army work of the Wesleyan Methodist Church, Soldiers' Homes have long played a conspicuous part. Before the war broke out that church had already spent £154,420 on providing forty-one such homes in different parts of the Empire, twenty of these being in England.

Always full in peace time, these homes have of course been overcrowded in time of war, and scores of temporary homes have been brought into use in all the great centres. Soon after the war broke out an appeal was made for £5000 to erect tent or hut homes in all the camps. It has had a noble response, and the work is succeeding beyond expectation. In each of these homes there is a "Glory Room." The name comes from the Mother Home at Aldershot, and they call it so because

Heaven comes down their souls to meet
And glory crowns the mercy-seat.

No pressure is brought to bear on any soldier to enter the Glory Room. There are the reading rooms, games room, refreshment room as everywhere else, but night by night an increasing number of lads find their way into the Glory Room. There prayer is wont to be made, and Sankey's hymn-book, loved of the Christian soldier, is in evidence. Never a night passes but some soldier lad comes home to God, and "Glory crowns what grace has begun."

Every night the gathering ends with the Christian soldier's watchword—"494." Years before the South African War it was used among our Christian lads. It went right through South Africa. As company passed company on the march, a Christian man in one company would shout "494," and if there were a Christian in the passing company he would respond "494." Sometimes the response varied and instead would come the ringing shout, "Aye, lad, and six further on." Thus the Christian soldier's watchword rang out from the Cape to Pretoria. And it has been ringing right through this war.

So every meeting in the Glory Room of a Wesleyan Soldiers' Home closes with it. If you turn to Sankey's hymn-book you will find that "494" is "God be with you till we meet again," and "six further on" is "Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine." Thus our lads cheer each other in times of difficulty and danger.

I must not forget to mention the little Red Books and Blue Books which, to the number of 60,000, have been distributed to all Wesleyan soldiers and sailors in the Expeditionary Forces. These, which contain hymns and prayers, have been compiled by the Rev. F.L. Wiseman and are greatly appreciated by the men. Also a "Housewife" has been given to every man, containing all things necessary for patching, darning, and mending.

But every church has cared for its men, if not in these, in other ways, and the men have been loaded with comforts. I have singled out the Wesleyan Soldiers' Homes for special mention, because that church has made this work a speciality, and has homes now in every great military or naval centre throughout the Empire. But it must not be forgotten that the Church of England has its "Institutes" also, and that the Presbyterian Church is just beginning this work. Miss Daniel's Soldiers' Home at Aldershot has for many years rendered good service.

Perhaps this is the best time to speak of Temperance work in the Army, for it is another form of Christian service.

Temperance principles had been rapidly leavening the Army years before the outbreak of war. We are apt to forget that we have a new army, an army educated in our Council schools and Sunday-schools, and most of its men have been under Christian influence. Before the war broke out, over forty per cent. of our Army in India were members of the Army Temperance Association, and in this country, though the percentage of members was lower, that magnificent institution was rejoicing in great success. There was still a "tail" to the British Army, a long and unwholesome tail, but it was growing shorter and more wholesome each year.

Since the war commenced it has grown shorter still. Temperance work has been done everywhere. The Army Temperance workers are in all the homes, and the fruit of their work is seen on every hand.

The decree of the Czar of Russia prohibiting the sale of vodka gave a great impetus to British Temperance work, and perhaps Lord Kitchener gave as great if not an even greater stimulus.

Lord Kitchener's message to the Expeditionary Force on its departure for France may in part be quoted: "In France and Belgium you are sure to meet with a welcome, and to be trusted. Your conduct must justify that welcome and that trust. Your duty cannot be done unless your health is sound, so keep constantly on your guard against any excess. In this new experience you may find temptation in wine.... You must entirely resist temptation."

Lord Kitchener also issued a strong appeal to the British public, urging them not to treat our soldiers to intoxicating drink, and his entreaty was backed by strong measures in many camps.

At the request of the naval and military authorities the Home Secretary (Mr. McKenna) carried through Parliament a measure giving to licensing justices in any district, upon the recommendation of the chief officer of police, the power temporarily to restrict the sale, consumption, and supply of intoxicating liquors on licensed premises and in clubs.

Add to all this the immense work of the churches and various temperance associations, and there is no wonder that we have new men in a new army.

I turn now for a few moments to work among the men of the Navy. Not so much could be done for them as for our soldier lads. Church of England chaplains were, of course, on the larger ships, but room could not be found for the chaplains of other churches. All the records tell of splendid work done by the chaplains on board.

And when from their life on the ocean wave the men came in for brief periods to the home ports, the chaplains on shore rejoiced in the opportunity of service. Everywhere services were arranged—services on board ship, and services on shore. All sorts of literature was provided. Comforts, in the shape of warm garments made by loving hands at home, were distributed.

The Sailors' Homes were open to them, and were thronged during the brief periods when they could be used by the men. Special mention must be made of the splendid work done by Miss Agnes Weston for many years. It must not be forgotten that long before the outbreak of war Christian and Temperance work had been as fruitful in the Navy as in the Army. But the war has made such work still more effective.

On board ship the Christian men were always ready for prayer. The Rev. R.H. Hingley tells that one day he had been conducting a brief service on a cruiser, and as he was waiting for his boat, man after man came up to him and suggested a prayer meeting. It was a newly commissioned ship and many of the men who gathered to the prayer meeting confessed Christ for the first time.

At sea these men congregate every evening for prayer in the chaplain's room, but often that room is too small, and more commodious quarters have to be sought.

Mr. Hingley tells of a letter he has received from a sailor saint. "We have taken the ninety-first Psalm as our special song. How grand it is to be sure, and how true have we proved it to be!" Thus many of our Christian sailor lads go down to the sea in ships singing as they go, "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty," and so they are not afraid "for the terror by night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day." Christ has many witnesses among our sailors in the North Sea.

It was not long before another class of service came to those at the Home Base, viz. the work among the wounded in the hospitals. This war has brought the fact of war home to every one.

Not long was it before the hospitals already in use were all too small for the numbers of wounded drafted from the front, and hospitals sprang up in all the great centres of population. For weeks preparations had been made. Red Cross amateur nurses and St. John's Ambulance nurses had been completing their training. Medical men had volunteered their services, and ministers of religion of all denominations were ready to do what they could for the spiritual needs of the men.

The opportunity was golden. Never had there been one like it before. These men had come through the Valley of Death. They were ready to think and pray. Says one chaplain:

"Again and again, while going through the wards, men have said, 'I shall be a different man after this, sir.' They have told us of their life in the trenches and of the prayers they have made while the bullets have been flying about them. Said one: 'I know this—on the field I prayed hard, more than ever I prayed before.' Another man speaks of the peace he had when facing death. 'I remembered those words in one of the Psalms—"A thousand shall fall at thy side and ten thousand at thy right hand, but it shall not come nigh thee"—and God brought me through.'"

Multiply this story a thousandfold and we shall see what the war has done for men, and also realise how easy it has been to lead soldiers thus impressed into fellowship with our Lord. A loving work is this, requiring ministry tender and true, but it has been done and done right nobly. Men who had learnt not to be afraid of death have learnt also how to live.

In Denmark Hill Hospital a wounded man told this story to the Rev. A. Bingham. A young soldier was mortally wounded in one of the great battles. When he realised that he was dying he began to sing. Faintly but clearly he sang:

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
. . . . . .
Hold Thou Thy Cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
In Life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

Far away from loved ones—far from home—wounded to the death, the soldier found in the love and presence of Jesus his Saviour and friend, rest and peace. And his comrade in the hospital remembered his dying song and passed it on that it might become a message to many another when they too came to die—

In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

One more hospital story will suffice. It is of a different order from the last, but it reveals Thomas Atkins as he really is.

The wife of the local colonel was making the round of a hospital and paused at the bedside of a wounded soldier, who evidently hailed from the North of England. He was toying with a helmet, apparently a trophy of war.

"Well," said the lady, "I suppose you killed your man?"

"Well, naw," quietly responded the soldier. "You see it was like this. He lay on the field pretty near me with an awfu' bad wound an' bleedin' away somethin' terrible. I was losin' a lot of blood too fra' my leg, but I managed to crawl up to him, an' bound him up as well as I could, an' he did the same for me. Nawthin' o' coorse was said between us. I knew no German an' the ither man not a word o' English, so when he'd dun, not seein' hoo else tae thank him, I just smiled, an' by way o' token handed him my Glengarry, an' he smiled back an' giv' me his helmet."

Thus Thomas Atkins has shown how to fight his enemy and to love him too.

This, then, in brief outline, is the story of Christian work at the Home Base during the early stages of the war.

Chaplains or acting chaplains everywhere, Scripture readers, Y.M.C.A. workers, voluntary workers, all sorts and conditions of workers. Bright, cheery services every evening. Loving appeals for decision for Christ—appeals which have been responded to by thousands of our lads. Centres for thought and rest and recreation everywhere. The need has been great, and the need has been supplied by people moved to self-sacrifice as never before.

Few families but have had some members in either Navy or Army, and as parents have said good-bye to their sons they have known that a hearty Christian welcome awaited them where they went, and that they might safely leave them to the kindly ministry of willing hearts and hands. The motto of everyone, high and low, has been Ich dien—I serve.

CHAPTER II[ToC]

EARLY DAYS AT THE FRONT

If Minister Shoots Minister!—A Brighter Side—A Beautiful Story—Pastors and Members in the Firing Line—A German Pastor—The Retreat through Belgium—The Work of Heroes—A Rear-guard Action—Seeking the Wounded—Refugees Stupid with Terror—Behind the Rear-guard—A Narrow Escape—A Night to be Remembered—The Man who Saved the British Army—God has been with Me—The British Soldier will Joke—Why Not?—Awful Experiences—A Monotony of Horror—Picking up Wounded Stragglers—Lines of Broken Men—Still Retreating—A Wonderful Triumph of Will—Thirsty Heroes—The Ambulance Found—The End of the Retreat—Mentioned in Despatches—No Parade Services.

Viewed from a Christian standpoint, the most distressing things about this war are: (1) That Christian nations are engaged in a life and death struggle. It is a lamentable confession, an awful fact. Two thousand years of Christian teaching have absolutely failed to keep Christian nations at peace.

And yet are these nations Christian? Has not Germany by its adoption of a false philosophy forfeited the title of Christian? So far as its military class is concerned I fear we must say "Yes," but so far as hundreds of thousands of its inhabitants are concerned we rejoice to believe we can still answer "No." They are fighting because they must, and because they do not understand. And we are fighting in another sense because we must. Like Luther, "We can no other." May God forgive us if we are wrong! We believe—with all our hearts we believe—our cause is just.

HELPING THE HELPLESS.
Royal Navy Division helping Belgian soldiers and refugees during the retreat from Antwerp.
Drawn by Ernest Prater from sketches made by one who was there.[ToList]

And out of this first distressing thing there emerges another. (2) Christian ministers are opposed to each other in the ranks, not because they want, but because they must. The law of conscription in Germany and in France applies to them as to others.

Surely these might have been left out of the call, or at any rate might have been left free to respond or not as their conscience dictated, as was the case in England. The consequence is that hundreds if not thousands of churches are left without their spiritual leaders, and everywhere the flock is destitute of the shepherd's care.

I said "a distressing thing," but is it not a tragedy? And if they should meet—these Christian ministers—across the trenches or in the line of battle, and minister shoot minister, or perforce meet him in a bayonet charge!

But there is a brighter side even to this dark picture. There are twenty thousand priests, "religious," and seminarists serving in the French Army. Among them are three bishops. Monsignor Ruch, coadjutor of Nancy, is one; he is employed as a stretcher-bearer. Another, Monsignor Perros, is a sub-lieutenant; and the third, Monsignor Mourey, is simply Private Mourey in the ranks. It is quite an ordinary thing for confessions to be heard by soldier priests in the trenches, and for absolution to be given before the charge. Protestant ministers, too, fighting in the ranks never forget they are ministers, and their ministry may be even more effective than that of the chaplains, for are they not comrades too? Thus the armies are leavened by Christian men, whose supreme business must be the Kingdom of God.

A beautiful story comes to us from the early days of the war. In the hall of a great railway terminus in Paris, a number of wounded were laid out on straw waiting to be taken to a hospital. Several of them had evidently not long to live. One especially was very restless, and a nurse moved to his side, and began to do what she could for him.

"I badly want a priest," moaned the dying man.

The nurse looked round upon the company of wounded.

"Is there a priest here?" she asked. A voice in little more than a whisper replied:

"Yes, Sister, I am a priest. Take me to him."

There he lay at the point of death, wounded and wounded sorely. It was a strange sight—his dirty ragged uniform not yet removed, the stains of war and of awful travel from the front upon his face, and he a priest!

"Take me to him," he repeated.

She said: "You are not fit to be moved, I dare not do it." And then insistently he whispered:

"Sister, you are of the faith. You know what it means to the dying lad. I must go."

He tried to rise from the straw on which he lay, and seeing his determination the nurse had him moved to the dying soldier's side. A few whispered words of confession, and the priest motioned to the Sister.

"I cannot raise my arm. Help me to make the sign," he said.

The Sister lifted his arm and together they made the sign of the cross. And then, exhausted, the soldier priest fell back. His comrade felt for his hand, clasped it in his dying grasp, and together priest and penitent passed away.

Thus heroically are many French priests doing a double work, at once fighting for their country and for their faith.

It is the same with French Protestant ministers. All of military age have had to go. The President of the French Wesleyan Conference, the Rev. Emile Ullern, is fighting as a private soldier in the French Army, and many another. Two-fifths of the pastors of the Reformed Church of France are also in the ranks. Already three of them, plus a missionary and a most promising theological student, one of the Monod's, have fallen on the battle-field. Our French churches are without pastors, and the work of many years is seemingly being ruined. But their members are at the front too, and it is a joy if, now and then, they meet and are able to comfort one another in the firing line.

It is the same in Germany. Already we hear of one German Methodist minister who has fallen at the front—Rev. Friedrich Rösch, Ph.D. He graduated brilliantly in philosophy and languages at Strasburg University. He then offered for missionary work and rendered excellent service among the Mohammedans of Northern Africa. He had a good knowledge of Arabic and had learned two other African languages. Now a British or French bullet, or shrapnel shell, has cut short his career.

This is the grim tragedy of this awful war—Christian fighting Christian, Christian minister fighting Christian minister.

Our business, however, is with the British army and with Christian work therein. Our task is a difficult one, for the veil of secrecy which enveloped the early days of the war has hardly as yet been lifted. Only here and there has that veil been raised just a little, but wherever we are privileged to gaze we are filled with admiration. The work of our chaplains and doctors and nurses has been heroic, and the no less noble work of Christian soldiers fills us with thanksgiving.

The war began with retreat. That apparently invincible German army strode ruthlessly through Belgium, leaving fire and rapine and death in its track. It found a garden, and it left a wilderness; prosperity, and it left starvation. It will be remembered for all time for barbarities that disgraced war. Belgian mothers will tell their children, and the story will be passed down the ages, of broken hearts and ruined lives, and a tortured devastated land.

And then, the devoted little army of Belgium thrown upon one side, the clash of war began in France. Our British Expeditionary Force had been rushed across the Channel with General Sir John French in command. With marvellous efficiency it had crossed without a single casualty, convoyed by British and French men-of-war. With the forces went the chaplains of the different denominations, their numbers to be steadily augmented throughout the war.

But the French were not ready, and our force was all too small for the task allotted to it. To our eternal credit, we also were not ready. Our Army did the work of heroes, but the huge German Army steadily marched on, and there was nothing to be done but retire. When the full story of the retreat from Mons comes to be written, what grim reading it will make!

Of course, in those desperate days all that the chaplains could do was to look after the wounded and bury the dead. Organised services were out of the question. A few men gathered here or there at the close of a terrible march, a prayer or two, a message of cheer or consolation, and then a brief sleep, and the inevitable weary march again, the rear-guard fighting all the way. But all day long there were opportunities of individual service and these were used to the full.

From the publications of the Salvation Army we get a vivid picture of those days. Being an international institution it had, and still has, its agents in every part of the fighting area. Germans, Russians, French, Belgians, and British are all the same to it—they are men who need salvation. It has been as vigorous in its work among Germans as among any others, and its trophies won upon German battle-fields will be bright jewels in our Redeemer's crown.

Brigadier Mary Murray, who rendered signal service during the South African war, and who wears the South African medal, was in Brussels when the Germans entered the city. She gives us a vivid picture of her experiences in connexion with the German occupation. I quote from the War Cry of September 12, 1914:

"At last I am able to write. Twelve days of silence, no post, no papers, nothing but such news as the Germans cared to put up, and all the time a sound of heavy firing.

"We reached Brussels last Tuesday week. The first impression was of a town en fête. The streets, even the poorest, were gay with bunting and flags; on every side black, orange, and red caught one's eye.

"In trying to get an extra man officer for our party we were still in Brussels on Thursday, and by twelve o'clock found ourselves German prisoners. Every house in the better part of the town was closed and the windows shuttered. The empty streets at twelve o'clock gave one a horrid chill, but by four o'clock dense masses of people watched the German Army pass. Old men, young men, bare-headed women, women with hobble skirts, but one and all holding tiny dogs in their arms! Behind, the cafés were in full swing.

"Hour after hour the 4th German army corps rolled along the cobble streets, a solid grey line of burly men and magnificent horses. I turned from watching and saw a boy in the act of throwing a heavily-weighted belt dragged away by two policemen. In the cafés men were drinking the inevitable beer and playing cards. I turned again. Still on they came, cavalry, artillery, and infantry—a man to my right in French said, 'One of these men told me they knew they were going to their death.' Just then a cavalry man, catching sight of my uniform, very courteously and gravely saluted me, saying, 'Heils Armee' (Salvation Army).

"The next day—still the army passing through,—a gunner, bending down, said, 'Heils Armee—Hallelujah!' Wild rumours throughout the town; atmosphere electric, a single act of violence, and one felt the Germans would have opened fire. Notices were posted all over the town imploring the people to be calm; every day, often all day, we tried for a way to get out, but without a ray of hope; day after day refugees arrived with tales of misery and horror.

"My diary runs: 'All cafés to be closed early. Germans send for quicklime to cover their dead. 7000 wounded arrive—all Germans. Germans posted notices to-day: "English badly beaten; French retreated." Threatened to sack Brussels. No milk, no bread, no eggs, no butter. We were mobbed to-day, as the rumour had spread that Brussels had been betrayed by the English. Notice out not to touch water, as German dead were lying in great numbers unburied near Mallien.'"

From Brussels Brigadier Murray made her way to Le Havre. The scenes she witnessed among the flying Belgians were terrible. One picture will ever live in her memory—and ours.

"A woman who had to fly at night from her village had to do so with three tiny children; the baby she put into her apron with some clothing, the other two she carried. Through the darkness she had to walk to the junction, where ensued a wild scramble for seats. When the train had started the distracted woman discovered that the baby had dropped from her apron, when and where no one could discover."

Later Brigadier Murray has had charge of the first ambulance sent out by the Salvation Army.

The bravery of these women Salvation Army officers is past description.

During the battle of Mons Adjutant L. Renaud, a French-Swiss officer, was in charge of the Salvation Army corps at Quaregnon, near Mons. She tells us her experiences during those fearful days.

"Here in Quaregnon it has been terrible—beyond all expression. More than 300 houses have been destroyed, and many civilians killed, not only men and women, but also children, but none of our Salvation Army comrades has been touched. We have been protected in a marvellous manner. We can say with David, 'The Angel of the Lord encampeth around those that fear Him and plucks them out of danger' (French translation). God has done that for us. The battle continued from Sunday morning at eleven o'clock to Monday evening. The bombardment did not cease a moment; while it was on we had thirty of our comrades with their little children in our large cellar."

We understand that the officers got possession of this house with the large cellar last year. The hall is on the ground floor. In their former house there was no cellar. The adjutant proceeds:

"I am so glad that I remained at my post, to aid and encourage not only my Salvation Army comrades, but also the population. The people were completely panic-stricken. I do not know how it has happened, but the Lord has enabled me to rest in a great calm and without any fear. Lieutenant and I have been enabled to go amongst the people, comforting them and taking help to them even when the balls have whistled by our ears. Oh, how God has protected us! That night of August 23 will never be forgotten by me.

"The day after the battle—what horrible sights! Dead bodies in the streets, the wounded, and from all sides poor maddened people flying to save themselves with their little children—all the people weeping. I could never describe what I have seen. How is it possible that such things could take place in this age of education? And now the misery is here for the poor workers. It is already seven weeks since the men (colliers) could work. The food has been seized and more often than not wasted by the German troops. The future is very dark for these poor people.

"When the English soldiers came here the Lieutenant and I prepared tea for them while they dug trenches. After the battle, when the Germans came, we lodged many of them in our hall and did what we could for them. Then I thought of all our dear Salvationists who are in the different armies—English, German, French, Austrian, Russian, Belgian. Oh, how glad I am that I remained at my post to help my comrades! On the Sunday during the bombardment the cry went forth, 'Let all those save themselves who can do so!' I went outside to see if there was any serious danger. Then I said to the people, 'Come with us in the hall; I will take care of you as much as I can.' They came, and were content to be with their officers. They said, 'If it be necessary for us to die, well, we will be with our officers; it will be better for us to be with them.' Thus they remained with us, and God has protected all. Blessed be His Holy Name!"

Adjutant Renaud and her Lieutenant, however, were not the only women Salvation Army officers who stuck to their posts. They all did so, nerving themselves with the strength of Christ, and daring all things in His name. And to-day many of them are still working in Belgian and French towns overrun by German troops doing their best for Christ and the Kingdom.

It is time, however, that we rejoined the British troops who by this time are retreating from Mons. There had been terrible fighting around Mons for four days, but the opposing forces were overwhelming, and they had no option but to retire fighting a rear-guard action all the way. The retreat began on or about August 24, 1914, not three weeks after the declaration of war. It was a pitiful experience for our soldiers who are not accustomed to turn their backs to the foe.

It is not our purpose to tell the story of that awful retreat—other books will do that. Nor is it possible as yet to tell in full the story of the Christian work attempted during the hurried marching of those fearful times. In the first place commissioned chaplains are not permitted as yet to publish reports, and in the second place all work attempted was necessarily unorganised and fragmentary. It could be nothing more than caring for the wounded and whenever possible burying the dead.

The horrors of the retreat can only be known by those who experienced them, and there was little light amid the darkness of apparent failure. It must be remembered that our men were fighting all the time, sometimes it seemed to them succeeding, but really only succeeding in allowing the main body to retreat to the rear. For twelve days the retreat continued and did not terminate until Saturday, September 5.

Here and there we get a little light in the darkness. The War Cry of September 19 contains a story from the pen of a motor driver in the R.F.A., who was also a Salvation Army bandsman, which has to do with the battle more than the retreat, but which may as well be told here, leaving a description of some incidents in the retreat itself to follow later.

"We got everything ready for the enemy, the trenches dug and the guns fixed, and then came the worst job of all—waiting. For thirty-six hours we lay there watching and listening for the first sign of the Germans. Then for five hours the battle lasted without cessation.

"Having brought my transport wagons up to the firing lines with my motor, I had to help load the guns. Shells were flying and bursting all round us. I was wounded by a splinter from one of the shells, but as it was only a flesh wound I bound it up and went on with my work.

"Now, the enemy seemed to be beating us, then again they retreated. All the time my comrades were falling around me, and the Germans were falling in hundreds too. So thick were the enemy's dead that when the advance was given we simply had to force the motor up and over heaps of bodies—there was nothing else for it.

"At last the battle, so far as the batteries in our neighbourhood were concerned, went in our favour, and we were ordered to follow the retreating Germans. In doing this six of us got lost, and for four days we were tramping about without a mouthful of food or drink!

"By day we lay concealed in the corn or grass fields, and by night we crept along, without any guide, only hoping and praying—I've prayed many times in the past, but never so much as on these nights—that all would come right.

"On the first day we were fairly well, on the second we were very hungry, on the third our tongues were hanging out, and two of my comrades went mad.

"On the fourth night we fell in with a British ambulance section and were taken into camp. As I was passing an ambulance tent I heard some one singing:

'I'm a child of a King,
I'm a child of a King,
With Jesus my Saviour,
I'm a child of a King.'

I asked who it was, and was told it was a Salvationist.

"In the stillness of another night from one of the tents I heard—

'Then we'll roll the old chariot along,
And we won't drag on behind.'

"I tell you it was thrilling; it made me dance for joy. Two or three Salvationists were having a Free and Easy; after the chorus had been sung once or twice I heard it taken up by other Salvationists in other tents, and presently from many parts of the camp could be heard the old Salvation Army song. It was splendid!

"My, didn't the old verse go with a swing—

'If the Devil's in the way
We'll roll it over him!'

By this time the whole camp had joined in. Some of the non-Salvationists would sing it with a slight change.

"Another favourite with us Salvationists was the last verse of 'I'm a child of a King'—

'A tent or a cottage what need I fear,
He's building a palace for me over there.'

"I was unable to get to chat with any of the Salvationists, because if you want to go from one battery to another you have to get permission. But one night I did go and listen outside one of the tents to their singing. It cheered me only to know I was near some of my comrades. I learned that the Salvationists in camp came from various parts of England, some were bandsmen, some local officers, and others soldiers. I didn't hear that any had been wounded beyond myself, although the comrade I heard singing in the ambulance tent was in all probability injured!"

But now for the retreat itself! The passage I quote is from the pen of the Rev. Owen Spencer Watkins, as printed in the Methodist Recorder.

Mr. Watkins had already seen much war service. He was in Crete. He accompanied the British Army to Khartoum and was present at the battle of Omdurman. He went through the South African war and was shut up in Ladysmith during the siege. He knows what campaigning is, and he knows how to describe what he sees. When this war broke out he was attached to the 14th Field Ambulance, in command of which was Lieut.-Colonel G.S. Crawford. The personnel of the ambulance consisted of nine medical officers, one quartermaster, two chaplains—Rev. D.P. Winnifrith (Church of England) and himself (Wesleyan)—and 240 non-commissioned officers and men. His full description of the retreat is as fine a piece of writing as I remember to have seen in connexion with this war.

"On we tramped through Maretz, our destination being, we were told, Estrées. Never a halt or a pause, though horses dropped between the shafts, and men sat down exhausted by the roadside. A heavy gun overturned in a ditch, but it was impossible to stay to get it out, so it was rendered useless, and the disconsolate gunners trekked on. When horses could draw their loads no longer, the loads were cast by the roadside; there could be no delay, for the spent and weary infantry were fighting in our rear, and every moment's delay had to be paid for in human lives.

"Darkness fell and still we marched—I dozed in the saddle to waken with a start, but still nothing but the creak and rumble of waggons and guns, and the tramp, tramp, tramp of men. I cannot give a connected account of that night—it lives in my memory like an awful but confused nightmare—the overpowering desire for sleep, the weariness and ache of every fibre of one's body, and the thirst. I had forgotten to be hungry, had got past food; but I thirsted as I had only thirsted once before, and that was in the desert near Khartoum.

"About midnight we reached Estrées, and I asked a staff officer where the 14th Field Ambulance was camped. 'Camped!' he exclaimed. 'Camped! Nobody camps here. Orders are changed and there must be no halt.' Then, as an afterthought, 'What Ambulance did you say?' 'Number 14.' 'Do you belong to it?' 'Yes.' 'Then I congratulate you, for if reports are true, you are all that is left of it: it is said to have been wiped out by shell fire.' I said I thought the reports were, to say the least, exaggerated, and rode on.

"Shortly after I heard a familiar voice also asking for the 14th Field Ambulance. It was Major Fawcett, R.A.M.C, who, like myself, had been detached from the Ambulance on special duty. We greeted each other with joy, and for the rest of that awful march had company.

"At last we felt we could go no further (remember, in the last four days we had only ten hours' sleep, and three proper meals), and were in danger of dropping out of our saddles from exhaustion. So we dismounted, sat by the roadside holding our horses, and at once were fast asleep.

"Two hours later we wakened, dawn was just breaking over the hills, and still the column creaked and groaned its way along the road, more asleep than awake, but still moving. A wonderful triumph of will over human frailty. But at how great a cost to nerve and vitality was revealed by one look at the faces of the men.

"I was noticing how worn and gaunt my companion was looking, and was about to remark upon it, but the same thought was in his mind and he forestalled me. 'Isn't it wonderful how quickly this sort of thing tells upon a man? You know, Padre, you look as though you had just got up from a serious illness, and only three days ago you looked as hard as nails, and as fit as a man could be.'

"Soon after sunrise we came up with two of our ambulance waggons and one of our filter water-carts. The wounded were in such a state of exhaustion with the long trek, and the awful jolting of the waggons, that Major Fawcett decided to halt and make some beef-tea for them, so rode on ahead to find some farm where water could be boiled. He had hardly gone when a battalion of exhausted infantry came up with us, and as soon as they saw the water-cart, made a dash for it.

"Hastily I rode up to them, explained that there was very little water left in the cart, and that little was needed for their wounded comrades.

"'I'm thirsty myself,' I said, 'and I'm awfully sorry for you chaps, but you see how it is, the wounded must come first.'

"'Quite right, sir,' was the ready response. 'Didn't know it was a hospital water-cart,' and without a murmur they went thirsty along their way."

Soon the retreat was renewed and steadily they marched to the rear until St. Quentin was reached, where they got their first wash and actually eight hours' sleep. Then on again—back, back, always back. The River Aisne was passed, soon to be regained and made memorable by a brilliant fight. But now it was all retreat. Day after day, night after night they trekked. The days were tropical, the nights arctic. Often it was too cold to sleep, though sleep was needed badly.

At last, on Saturday, September 5, they reached Tournan, south of Paris, and were informed that the retreat was over, and that they would ere long turn to attack the foe who had so ruthlessly followed them.

The men were not down-hearted even through that awful march. Down-hearted? No! They were always asking when they could get "a bit of their own back." Their one desire was to turn and face their enemy. This was a retreat, not a defeat. The men were ragged, bearded, footsore, unkempt, but were unconquered and unconquerable. The spirit of their country burned in them and blazed through their eyes, and when the message of Sir John French came thanking them for their magnificent courage and promising them a share in the rounding up, they cheered until they could cheer no longer.

When Sir John French published his first list of names for honourable mention, the names of seven chaplains were "mentioned in Despatches." And among the seven the name of the Rev. Owen Spencer Watkins was mentioned twice.

No Parade services—they were out of the question,—hardly any short unofficial services such as we grew accustomed to during the South African War. Just a hearty handshake, a "God bless you," a whispered text, or a hearty word of cheer, but the ministry to the wounded always, and wherever possible the burial of the dead. No more is possible in such a retreat. But the Christian soldier is cheered by the sight of his chaplain. His "494" is never forgotten, and as he passes along the lines of the wounded they look up and call him blessed.

Thank God, the Cross is always where there is suffering and death, and never is it needed more than on the stricken field, or in such a retreat as "The Retreat from Mons."

"IT'S A LONG, LONG WAY TO TIPPERARY."[ToList]

CHAPTER III[ToC]

AT THE FIGHTING BASE

Commissioned Acting Chaplains—All Creeds Participate—Stories of Christian Workers at the Fighting Base—Pluck, a Miracle Worker—A Whole Regiment Praying—More Chaplains' Stories—The French Mayor's Speech—Protestant Service in a Roman Catholic Church—An Old-Fashioned "Revival"—The Cross upon the Field of War—A Hospital Confirmation Scene—Y.M.C.A. at the Fighting Base—The Story of the German Sniper.

Perhaps this is the best time to say a word about religious ministrations in the Army.

When a soldier enlists he is expected to "declare" his "religion." Time was when only two forms of religion were recognised in the Army—the Church of England and Roman Catholic. A recruit was asked, "What are you? Church or Catholic?"—that was how it was shortly put. But that day has gone by, and now all the chief religious denominations are recognised, and the men—to the extent I have already indicated—have the ministration of the chaplains of their own churches. This some officers at first fail to recognise.

The story goes that a captain, who had recently changed regiments and had not as yet become acquainted with the idiosyncrasies of his new command, was surprised at the small muster for Church of England Parade. "You see," explained the sergeant-major, "we've sixteen Roman Catholics, twelve Wesleyans, six Primitive Methodists, two Jews, and four Peelin' Purtaties!"

The Church of England, Roman Catholic, and Presbyterian chaplains hold commissions in the Army. The Wesleyans, although commissions have repeatedly been offered, prefer to keep their ministers under their own control. Their ministers become "Acting Chaplains," and, as I have already indicated, during the present war for the first time, the other Free Churches have been recognised in the same way. When, however, war breaks out, all the chaplains, commissioned and acting, are on the same footing, are attached to some unit, and are under its commanding officer. They all wear uniform, and the only way to distinguish the "Padre" from the ordinary officer is by the black shoulder-knots and the cross on his hat.

At the head of the Chaplaincy Department is Bishop Taylor-Smith, the Chaplain-General. He is a powerful preacher, a good administrator, a broad-minded man, and eminently fitted for his high position. But he remains at home during this war, for the Chaplaincy Department has become a big thing, and only very occasionally can he pay visits to the front.

The chaplain in charge of the Army work at the front is the Rev. Dr. J.M. Simms (Presbyterian), one of the chaplains who also have the distinction of being Hon. Chaplains to the King. It shows how catholic the Army authorities are, and how little they allow their sympathies to be with any one church, that the man in charge of the chaplains of all the churches is a Presbyterian. He takes this position by virtue of seniority, for Dr. Simms has seen long and varied service; but never before has any other than an Anglican clergyman found himself in command.

The senior Church of England chaplain is the Rev. E.G.F. Macpherson, who served with distinction throughout the South African War and was among those shut up in Ladysmith.

Chaplains have military status. The Chaplain-General ranks as Major-General, Dr. Simms as Brigadier, and the others as Colonels, Majors, or Captains. They do not use their title of military rank.

As Bishop Taylor-Smith says: "There are no flouts or sneers against the Sky Pilot in the Army of to-day. Quite the reverse; for does he not bring them comfort and courage, and that quiet confidence which a man of great moral might can implant in the most irreligious mind?... Sometimes one hears grumbles at having to salute civilians 'dressed up as officers,' but never a word against the Army chaplain—the Padre."

In an interview reported in the Daily Chronicle, Bishop Taylor-Smith goes on to say: "Chatting with a senior Army chaplain who had been at the front from the beginning, I was not surprised to hear that he had not once received a snub, for his story confirmed the remarks made to me by Tommy Atkins himself. Down there in the bleak desolation of mud and morass, with death hurtling through the grey sky, one is face to face with the Unknown, and the man who in his native town never sets foot in church, turns with gratitude to the chaplain to strengthen him with the comfort of God.... All Protestant creeds are one in the fighting line. If an Anglican minister is not at hand, a Presbyterian speaks a few words, and all of the Protestant denominations work hand and glove.... Only for Holy Communion in the field does he wear his surplice, and usually he invites all, the unconfirmed, or even those of other creeds, to participate, for any minute may mean death out there."

I can bear this out from personal knowledge. There is much less distinction between the denominations in the Army at home than one would expect, but in the "field" they rejoice in the grand old title of Christian, and on occasion each does the other's work.

Every day is a Sunday, so far as the chaplain is concerned. He takes a service when and where he can. He cannot have too many, and the men readily respond to his call.

At the fighting base, however, his most important work lies in the hospital. Here he is sorely needed. The men want him more than they ever did in their lives. And it is his to hear their last words and to tell them of the peace of God.