"When the period of training was over, Macleod assembled all our men in a large shed and gave 'em his celebrated lecture on 'hatred of the enemy.'
"I was really curious to hear him, because people at G.H.Q. were always talking about the extraordinary influence he had over the troops' moral. 'One of Macleod's speeches,' said the Chief of Staff, 'does the Huns as much harm as ten batteries of heavy howitzers.'
"The lecturer began with a ghastly description of the shooting of prisoners, and went on to a nauseating account of the effects of gas and a terrible story about the crucifixion of a Canadian sergeant; and then, when our flesh was creeping and our throats were dry, came a really eloquent hymn of hate, ending with an appeal to the avenging bayonet.
"Macleod was silent for a few minutes, enjoying the sight of our haggard faces; then, considering we were sufficiently worked up, he went on:
"'Now, if there is any one of you who wants anything explained, let him speak up; I'm ready to answer any questions.'
"Out of the silence came the still, small voice of Private Biggs.
"'Please, sir?'
"'Yes, my man,' said Major Macleod kindly.
"'Please, sir, can you tell me how I can transfer to the Army Service Corps?'
"That evening, in the kitchen, our orderlies discussed the incident, and discovered in course of conversation that Biggs had never killed a man. All the others were tough old warriors, and they were much astonished.