Since that morning I have had many exciting experiences, up and down the ways of war; I have witnessed many impressive scenes, beautiful, terrible, and horrible, but these events have by no means obliterated from the tablets of my memory the events of that morning. Nothing particular happened until I had descended the hill and turned the first corner to the right in the direction of the town post-office. A horse was coming at a leisurely gait down the quiet street, driven by a young fellow of about sixteen, who sat on the seat of a high express wagon with a friend. Both lads seemed to see me at once, and started perceptibly. In his excitement, the driver pulled on the lines and the startled horse jerked his head quickly, as if he, too, was struck by my unwonted appearance. On the opposite side of the road a barber, who was operating on an early customer, stopped suddenly and came to the window, the razor still in his hand, while his patient, almost enveloped in the great white apron that was tucked about his neck, sat up quickly in the chair and turned a face half-covered with thick, creamy lather towards the window. All along the way people stopped, looked, smiled pleasantly, and then passed on. I had almost entered the post-office when the rattling of an express wagon, that must have passed the winter uncovered, as every spoke in the wheels seemed loose, came noisily to my ears. The horse was reined up opposite me, and as I turned my head side-wise I was greeted by the two young fellows who had passed me but a few minutes before, only this time three other lads, with smiling faces, were standing behind them in the wagon, holding to the seat.
After I got my mail from the box, I decided not to return by the same route along which I had come. There was a more secluded way. It was with a feeling of great relief that I found no one coming in my direction. I took out my new khaki handkerchief, unfolded it and wiped my brow. But, alas, for my relief! I had not gone very far till I crossed a street running at right angles to my course. A number of school children were coming along this. I quickened my pace. They saw me, and immediately a great bubbling of excited talk was borne to my ears. Then, as I disappeared from their view, I heard the sound of many eager feet pattering up the sidewalk. It ceased suddenly and I knew that again they were regarding me intently. There was a complete silence for a second or two, then I heard quite clearly the voice of a little girl, who in the last year’s confirmation class had given me more trouble than any other of the candidates, call almost louder than was necessary for her companions to hear: “Oh! doesn’t he look lovely?” A man just coming from his house on his way to his office smiled pleasantly and interestedly as he heard the small voice. Then he raised his hat. I saluted.
As I walked up under the trees clothed in their beautiful spring garments, and listened to the birds that sang so blithely this bright cool spring morning, with never a thought as to their raiment, I wiped my brow again. “These military clothes are warm,” I said to myself—yet I knew that this was not the reason.
Chapter IV
The Portable Altar
After a few days a box about one foot and a half long, one foot high and nine inches wide, arrived. It was made of wood covered with a kind of grey cloth, with strips of black leather about the edges and small pieces of brass at every corner. There were leather grips on it so that it could be carried as a satchel. It was my little portable altar, containing everything necessary for saying Mass. One half opened and stood upright from the part containing the table of the altar, which when opened out was three feet long. Fitted into the oak table was the little marble altar-stone, without which one may not say Mass. In the top of the upright part was a square hole in which the crucifix fitted to stand above the altar; on either side were holders to attach the candlesticks. From the wall that formed a compartment in the upright portion, where the vestments were kept, the altar cards unfolded; these were kept in place by small brass clips attached to the upright. Chalice, ciborium, missal and stand, cruets, wine, altar-breads, bell, linens, etc., were in compartments beneath the altar table. The whole was wonderfully compact and could be carried with one hand.
As I write these words it stands nearby, sadly war-worn after its voyage across the ocean, and its travels through England, France, Belgium and the Rhineland of Germany. I have said Mass on it on this side of the ocean; on the high seas; in camp in England; in trenches; on battlefields; in tents, camps, and billets through the war-scarred areas of France. I offered the Holy Sacrifice on it placed on a low, wide window-sill in a German billet on our way through the Rhineland. It was carried across the Rhine December 13th, 1918, in the great triumphal march. Now it is home again. In many places the cloth covering is scraped and torn; one of the brass corners is missing. It is very soiled from the mud of France and rifle oil stains, etc.; the leather edging is chipped and peeled. The table has been broken and repaired again, so has the little book-stand. The silver chalice and paten are slightly dented in many places. The little bell has lost part of its handle, but its tone is still sweet. One alb has been burned, but I have another. The cincture has been broken and knotted.
I gaze at it now and think of the thousands of great-hearted lads who knelt before it, often on rain-soaked fields, or stood among piles of ruins and heard the sweet notes of the little bell warning them of the Master’s approach, so that they might bow reverently when He came; of the thousands on field, on hillside, in caves and huts who knelt to eat of the Bread of Life, many of them going almost immediately with this pledge of eternal life, before God to be judged,—as I think of all this, there comes into my eyes a mist, and the little portable altar grows dim.
Chapter V
In Training Camp
In a few weeks we left for training-camp, travelling all night and arriving at our destination early in the morning. We detrained and the whole battalion fell in, the band marching at the head of the column. Our camp was in a wide green valley, as level as a floor, flecked with hundreds of white bell tents; and in the distance on every side sloped gently upwards high solemn mountains that kept silent guard over the plain below. Through the whole length of the valley ran a long grey asphalt road, over which passed all the traffic of the camp.
All summer long battalions of new soldiers came up this road and took over lines that had been assigned them. All summer long, and well on into the autumn, battalions of trained soldiers marched down the road to entrain for the port of embarkation for overseas.