Finnistere offered many advantages for outings with the great military port of Brest as the starting point. To be in Brest in winter was to feel the gloom and penetrating chill of England with the addition during the war period of mud everywhere—earth ground into sinking mire such as only vast and constant movements of men and machinery could produce. It was the greatest port of the war, and men were always there by the thousands. We climbed high above the city one winter evening to visit the men at Camp Lincoln. As we spoke to them that night we saw their faces out of the shadows made by the flickering candles. Months later we spoke again, but in a well-lighted auditorium that had been built for the men as the result of the persistent and successful efforts of Secretary Cansler and his associates. Brest itself is full of historic interest, beginning with the sombre Chateau and its dungeons. But all around it are picturesque spots that lure one away from the town in summer days. One Saturday four Y women and twelve soldiers went by automobile north from Brest about twelve miles and reached the remote village of St. Mathieu. They were then at the most westerly point on the Continent, named by the natives “Loc Mazi pen ar Bed,” or the cell of St. Mathieu at the end of the earth. But the most important thing there is the ruins of a great monastery constructed in the sixth century. It was bombarded first by the English and again during the French Revolution. On all the Continent we had seen nothing more picturesque than that great roofless monastery with its cloisters and pretty Gothic windows. Covered with moss and ivy, it stood a monument to the monastic order of its day. Nearby was a lighthouse and all about us were mines, for the village held a strategic position at the entrance to the English Channel. Beneath the sea-wall was a submarine passage that had had its uses in other wars as well as in the last one. From there we rode on to Conquet, a typical little fishing village of the north coast. We ate dinner in a big old room jutting far out on the sea, where the mist fell about us like rain.
There were days in Southern France where, in addition to the interesting outings that were ever a part of the regular program, we made other journeys. Some of our number traveled to beautiful Nice on the Mediterranean, others went over those picturesque parts that border Spain and some stood by Lake Geneva and spent a night at lovely Chamonix under the shadow of Mont Blanc, marveling at its stupendous beauty. There were vales and grottoes, lakes and mountains to which we went, but there was always the soldier and one used these Stray Days largely to gather new strength, new vigor for the important task back in the Y hut. One might go many miles away from camp life, but the vision of those thousands of virile lads with soul and body steeled for the hour could not be lost and always sent one back to them with an eager longing to serve better than before.
Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man. Ecclesiastes 12:13.
Afterthought
WE verily believe that the scriptural passage used as an introduction to these thoughts, is the rock upon which the colored people of America must build the superstructure of their civilization for all their future. It offers the only sure solution for their many difficulties, although it must be accompanied by righteous and indignant protest against injustice.
Some were not anxious for the colored soldier to take a part in the great World War. They felt that it would be a needless sacrifice for something that would bring no tangible results by way of alleviating his present condition; others felt that if he offered his life upon the altar for the principles of a new freedom, the remaining shackles that have so long bound him would be wholly broken.
Neither were correct; for while the shackles have not been wholly removed from his body there have been wonderful results accomplished that have in some measure removed the fetters from his soul.