On the whole the visits of the clergy are not hailed with much enthusiasm, their arrival being often looked upon as an omen of approaching death at the Base, or, in the firing-line, of a big advance.
August 23rd. A French orchestra was playing yesterday afternoon, and on the cliffs that form the lawns of No. —— Stationary Hospital were gathered together to greet the Royal guest the most fashionable crowd that the Base could produce. The whole scene, but for the white tents and blue-clad patients, might have been a smart seaside parade, for the camp commands an exquisite view of Boulogne, Wimereux and the distant coast of home. Suddenly, with a boom, a spurt of blackened debris, and a jet of water house-high, a distant boat was seen slowly to heel over and turn turtle.
Some attributed the cause to a floating mine, others to an ill-judged practice gun; but as the mail boat has neither come in nor gone out, as everyone is full of the sinking of the Arabic, we begin to believe the worst rumours—that a German submarine has at last got through into the Channel.
Later on, at an official dinner, the truth had not yet been fathomed.
That dinner is, perhaps, worthy of note, as for the first time we heard our Indian colleagues' views on the European upheaval.
Having exhausted my conversational powers with my dinner partner—a brawny Yorkshireman in a violent check suit and correspondingly odd accent, whose conversation for the most part consisted in repeatedly and dolefully asking if I knew what was the rate of exchange for the day (for the edification of posterity, be it noted, it is 27 francs 50 centimes)—I turned my attention to the native Christian Indian on my right. He was by no means lacking in topics of interest, chief amongst them being the effects of war upon India of the future. He spoke with the assurance of a man of education, being a barrister, and seemed to think that the broadening effect of their sojourn in Europe will be counteracted by the native adoption of Western vices.
An interesting fact to note is the total paralysation of all religious propagandist movements amongst the Indians. The work of the Y.M.C.A. amongst the natives at the moment is entirely non-religious. The secretaries act as interpreters, letter-writers, entertainers; they have evolved a wonderful system for keeping the men in touch with their kinsfolk—but any proselytising is strictly barred by the Army.
Not by even so much as the use of Y.M.C.A. notepaper—that might lead the natives at home to suspect their warriors of being influenced—is this verdict waived.
Nevertheless, it seems that the Indians have come to look upon the Association as "both father and mother," to use my informant's phrase, and turn to it for assistance in most peculiar matters. Said a Sikh to a local secretary to-day: