Told in gallant deeds

by Marie Belloc Lowndes

I do not know whether Captain von Müller is a reader of Mr. Cutcliffe Hyne’s entertaining books, but he certainly repeated in real life an exploit of Commander M‘Turk in “The Western Ocean Pirate.” He added a sham funnel to the Emden, and crept into Penang Harbour, pretending to be a British cruiser. He was thus able to dispose of two warships, one of them Russian.

As winter drew near, everyone turned their thoughts to providing warm garments and warming comforts for the troops. The Queen appealed to the women of the Empire and splendidly they responded. Young and old fingers knitted socks, mittens, comforters, and body belts, till hundreds of thousands were despatched to the front and to the Fleet.

Always remember that a deed of real kindness warms the heart as truly as a cosy garment warms the body. Our brave men, as we know by their grateful letters home, felt ever so much heartened by these and other signs of our gratitude.

And while we were all working here, French women, Russian women, and German women, helped by their children, were also all intent on providing their soldiers with winter comforts. But thinking of those industrious, devoted German mothers and wives, I wonder if they ever give a thought to those Belgian women who, homeless wanderers owing to Germany’s ruthless inhumanity, can provide nothing for their sons and brothers, but have to rely entirely on the kindness of their Allies and of America.

I do not think I can end this record of gallant, merciful, and kindly deeds without telling you of the Santa Claus ship from America.

The poor little Belgians, and those French boys and girls whose homes have been destroyed by fire, shell, and shot, are not likely to have any Christmas presents this year. Neither are the children of the other combatant nations likely to have a very happy Christmas. So a kind American editor bethought himself that here was a chance for the boys and girls of America. The American Government entered very heartily into the project of sending what is now known as the Santa Claus ship to Europe with Christmas presents for the children of the warring nations, and they offered the use of a United States battleship. It was settled that the battleship should fly at her foremast a large white flag, with a red Star of Hope in the centre, and under it the word “Inasmuch.” It was further arranged that the Santa Claus ship should proceed first to England, then to France, and then to Belgium, the German children’s presents being sent through Rotterdam.

I want you to try and make a special effort to remember the following deed of heroism, because it seems to me to be in some ways the most moving and splendid told you in this book. That is why I have put it last.

It was during an engagement near Nancy that Corporal Lancaster, of the Coldstream Guards, was shot in the neck. It was a terrible wound, and his comrades dragged him into the shelter of a haystack. “Be quiet,” they whispered, “for if you groan you will give away the position.”

Lancaster remained silent for six hours.

At last the Germans advanced. At a hundred yards from the haystack they were met by the blinding hail of the machine-gun section of the Coldstreams, and the silence of Corporal Lancaster was rewarded. Still grimly silent, he was gathered in by the Red Cross men at the end of a terrible day, and was soon on his way to England, who, we may safely assert, has never borne a braver son.