My friend handed over his lamp. The clergyman flashed it on a photograph pinned against a plank of wood.
"My wife," he said; "she is an American girl from Bensonhurst, Long Island. And that is my child."
He turned the light around the room. There were pages of pictures from the London Daily Mail and the New York Tribune. One was a picture of German soldiers in a church, drinking by the altar.
"I call this my New York corner," he explained, "and this is my visiting card." From a pile he lifted a one-page printed notice, which read:
"Declaration Religeuse.
"I, the undersigned, belong to the Protestant religion. In consequence and conforming to the law of 1905, this is my formal wish: In case of sickness or accident, I wish the visit of a Protestant pastor and the succor of his ministry whether I am undergoing treatment at a hospital or elsewhere; in case of death I wish to be buried with the assistance of a Protestant pastor and the rites of that Church."
Space is left for the soldier to sign his name. The little circular is devised by this chaplain, Pastor——, chaplain of the——Division.
At 2 o'clock in the morning we were ordered to load our car with the wounded, one "lying case," three "sitting cases." We discharged them at the hospital, and tumbled into the tent at Ippecourt at 4 o'clock.