"A large number of our mounted men have recently gone forward, so this week we started in the infantry camp, which is about three miles away.

We had our first open-air service there on October 26. We were only two when we started, but a great crowd before we finished, with eleven men out in the ring seeking Christ. This is grand work. The weather has turned very wintry and wet this week, but the Camp Commandant has promised me a store tent for our meetings, so we shall go on."

What wonderful scenes these are when you think of their setting and the men who were the chief actors! As Mr. Bateson says: "In the Nile Expedition, in the South African Campaign, in the frontier work in India, there have been many soldiers who, here and there, have surrendered their lives to Christ, but this 'Revival' in the British Expeditionary Force in France is surely unique in the history of war."

We picture the scene--not a Salvation Army ring in some country town in England, but crowds of khaki clad soldiers, supposed to be trifling, light-hearted, devil-may-care. But here they are out in the open, in full view of hundreds of their comrades, surrounded by great camps, humbly kneeling in penitence at the Throne of Grace, "owning their weakness, their evil behaviour," and pleading "G.o.d be merciful to me a sinner." So strangely, yet so powerfully, stands the Cross upon the field of war.

Another beautiful little picture is presented to us by Mr. Sarchet in another letter--a gathering of twenty-six soldier lads on the afternoon of the Lord's Day.

"We had a talk about temptation, and then celebrated Holy Communion.

It was all out in the open in a little wooden dell. I had my portable camp table. It was a very gracious and never-to-be-forgotten time, as we knelt there on the gra.s.s, with a beautiful clear sky overhead.

There seemed absolutely nothing between us and G.o.d, and the presence of the Risen Christ was a great reality. Before next Sunday some who were there will be fighting in the trenches, but they will carry the memory of this soul-hallowing time with them."

[Ill.u.s.tration: BISHOP TAYLOR-SMITH, CHAPLAIN-GENERAL.

Rev. E.L. Watson, Senior Baptist Chaplain at the Front.

Rev. O.S. Watkins, Senior Wesleyan Chaplain at the Front.

Rev. J.M. Simms, D.D., K.H.C., Presbyterian, Princ.i.p.al Chaplain at the Front.

Rev. E.G.F. Macpherson, Senior Church of England Chaplain at the Front.]

So out there in France our soldier lads "do this" in memory of Him "until He come."

Before I pa.s.s from the record of the directly spiritual work at the fighting base, let me tell the story of a unique confirmation--a confirmation without lawn sleeves. Bishop Taylor-Smith was the chief actor in this strange scene. A Church of England chaplain represented to him, during his visit to the front, that there were some men in hospital, badly wounded, who desired confirmation. The Bishop gladly consented to confirm them. They could not come to him, and so he went to them. But it was not in his bishop's robes he went. He was on military duty and he went in his military uniform as major-general.

There was no attempt to get a congregation. The Bishop was only attended by a chaplain and Scripture reader. He first went to a ward where lay two lads side by side, each with his right leg amputated above the knee. They were simple country lads and they were crippled for life. Their hearts had been won for Christ, and they desired to give their lives to Him. The Bishop spoke words of hope and cheer, and laid his hands upon them. Then he went to another ward where lay a man with a terrible shrapnel wound in his arm. Him also the Bishop confirmed. In the next ward were two men--older men these--who had known agonising pain. Their beds had been brought together, and upon these also the Bishop laid confirming hands. Then he pa.s.sed to the church where the convalescents who desired confirmation could receive his Church's rite.

A simple record this, but I fancy we shall search history in vain for any other story of a bishop in military uniform administering the rite of confirmation to wounded soldiers.

A word about the Y.M.C.A. work at the fighting base. It is being carried on there much as in England. Wherever possible Camp Homes are being erected, and the work done in them not only keeps the men out of temptation, but is the means in many cases of turning their steps toward Christ and heaven.

Mr. A.K. Yapp (the General Secretary) has recently paid a visit to France and reports most cheerily of the work done there. They have received ready help from both officers and men. In the erection of Queen Mary's Hut, for instance, every consideration has been exhibited. Materials have been carted free of charge, and other important and valuable concessions made, which have proved of the greatest service.

The work by the Y.M.C.A. in the Indian hospitals is exceptionally interesting. Those who are in charge can speak Hindustani, and are able to render many kindnesses to these brave Eastern fighters. They cannot, of course, undertake Christian teaching, but they are able to show the Christian spirit, and the lesson will not be lost on the sick and wounded Indians.

The more we study the work of the Y.M.C.A. for our soldiers in this war, with its branches now grown to nine hundred, the more we shall agree with the statement of a British officer: "You Y.M.C.A. people are marvellous."

And the men--what of the men among whom these chaplains and "Y.M.C.A.

people" and others work? "The men," said General Buller in South Africa, "are splendid." That is still the verdict--the universal verdict--they are _splendid_. Everybody loves Thomas Atkins who knows him; cheerful and kindly, ready to do anyone a good turn, heroic in action, patient in suffering, tender and chivalrous to women, he has set us all an example in this war. And he has done with the greatest ease what some people in this country find it so difficult to accomplish; he has shown us, as I have already indicated, how to fight his enemy and to love him too.

The Rev. Harold J. Chapman, M.A., vouches for the truth of this story told him in artless fashion by the hero of it. A German sniper was in a tree some distance from a small company of our men. He wounded one of our lads, and the pal of the wounded lad, lying not far from him, said, "I'll have to bring that fellow down, or he'll be hitting _me_ next." So he took aim and fired, and the German sniper dropped from the tree wounded. The ambulance that carried to the rear the wounded British soldier took also the German sniper.

After some days, to their astonishment they found themselves opposite each other in the same compartment of the same train.

"Well, what did you do?" said Mr. Chapman. "Did you hit him?"

"Oh no! why should I hit him? I couldn't speak his 'lingo,' and he couldn't speak mine, so I smiled at him and he smiled back at me. Then I offered him a cigarette, and he offered me one of his, and we were the best of pals all the journey."

That is it, the man who had shot the British soldier, and the man who had been shot by his pal, the best of friends! After all, why should not nations emulate the example of their soldiers?

Aye! They have seen suffering--these men--and they have risen superior to it, and speedily they forget the suffering, but they never forget a kindness shown. As Private Simmons of the 1st Cameronians says: "I have seen h.e.l.l, for I have seen war, and I have seen heaven, for I have been in hospital."

They are worth all that is being done for them--these splendid fellows--and still they go on singing, the words that Mr. Robert Harkness has recently written for them:

Sometimes the clouds hang heavy and low, Nor can we see each step as we go; No silver lining the cloud doth bestow.

Are we down-hearted? No!

Bravely we march in the battle of life.

Fierce is the conflict, the turmoil, and strife; Fraught with such peril, danger so rife, Are we down-hearted? No! No! No!

CHAPTER IV

THE MARNE, THE AISNE, YPRES

Christian Work during the Fighting--A Monotony of Horrors--A Brave "Bad Lad"--Strange Places for Worship--No Apples on his Conscience--Transferred to Flanders--Strangest Spectacle of the War--Lord Roberts in France--At Dead of Night--A Sh.e.l.l Stops a Sermon--The University Student.

Sunday, September 6, 1914, will be a memorable date for British soldiers, for it was the day on which the long and perilous retreat from Mons came to an end, and they once more turned to meet their foe.

It was a day of great rejoicing. They were not privileged to join together in the worship of G.o.d; instead there was constant marching.

But they were advancing now, not retreating, and there was a spring in their tread, and a glad light in their eyes, which showed of what stuff they were made, and p.r.o.nounced them "ready, aye ready."

As they marched steadily forward, they pa.s.sed through village after village devastated by the German troops. Stories of barbarism were told them which made them clench their hands and set their teeth. Here and there, however, it was different, and they pa.s.sed through villages on some of the doors of which was the notice, "Only defenceless women and children are here. Do not molest them." It seemed as though when the German troops had their commanding officer with them, and were well under control, they regarded the rules of war; but that when they were detached from the central command and could do more as they liked, then all the savage in them was let loose.

At last the Marne was reached and the battle begun. It is no part of our purpose in this book to describe that and the following battles.

Our business is with the Christian work done in connexion with them, and only so far as they help to ill.u.s.trate the work done have we anything at all to say about the conflicts. For five long days raged the battle of the Marne, from September 6 to 10 inclusive. During it deeds of heroism were performed by the hundred which will never be recorded.

While it continued but little of a specifically religious character could be performed by the chaplains. But they were everywhere--with their men in the front, with the ambulance and stretcher-bearers, bending over the wounded with words of Christian hope, and when the darkness fell, burying the dead. They had the perils of the battle, but none of the excitement of partic.i.p.ation.

Take this as a tribute from the Rev. Owen Spencer Watkins to the work of the R.A.M.C. I quote from the _Methodist Recorder_.

"Then the shrapnel swept the road; the bearers scattered in all directions; for a moment I thought General Rolt and his staff were wiped out, but all reached cover in safety. For myself, I leaned close against the high bank, whilst in the bush just above my head rattled the bullets like rain, and the leaves and twigs fell round me in a shower, but the danger was not for long.

"'Stretcher-bearers!' came the shout down the hill, and Major Richards sprang to his feet and the first squad followed him. My task was for a time to direct the bearers, and I was filled with admiration as the men faced the hillside, and what waited for them in the woods above.

"Remember these were not fighting men who carried arms, and they could take no cover, for they had the stretcher to carry with its suffering load. I never admired the Royal Army Medical Corps as I did that day on the hills above p.i.s.seloup and Montreuil.

"'Next squad!' I would shout, and without the slightest hesitation or sign of fear they would take their stretchers and climb the hill. Now Major Richards was in the road dressing the wounds of those brought in, and working with equal bravery and almost a surgeon's skill, good Sergeant-Major Spowage laboured at his side. Later they were joined by Lieutenant Tasker, R.A.M.C, and still the wounded streamed down the hills above.

"How those doctors and orderlies worked! That day at the cross-roads near p.i.s.seloup, I saw some of the best work done that has ever been accomplished in the field, and none seemed to realise that they were doing anything out of the ordinary."

When night fell, Rev. D.P. Winnifrith and Rev. O.S. Watkins did work similar to that which other chaplains were doing elsewhere on the field. We have their record, but must wait for that of the others.

What a picture it is upon which we gaze! Aye, and not only at night, but next day following the advancing British troops.

Here and there is a wounded soldier who has lain for hours in the rain. Their sufferings must have been horrible. And here and there, nay, all around, the dead. They buried them in fields, in gardens, in orchards and vineyards, sometimes singly, sometimes in twos and threes--in one grave two officers and eighteen men. But we draw a curtain over the scene. It will soon become a monotony of horrors. Let us hasten on.

The Marne won, the next line of battle was the Aisne.