At Ypres with Best-Dunkley

by Thomas Hope Floyd

"As I expected, I find that I have too much kit: I am told that I shall have to get rid of some when I get to my unit. I am at present writing on my nice table, but no other officers have brought out tables or chairs or anything of that kind! Well—we shall see...."

"May 28th, 1917.

"It is still boiling hot; thank goodness we have finished for to-day! I must first, however, tell you how I spent the remainder of yesterday, after writing home. I spent the afternoon in the town. I explored most of it. Happening to pass the church, I saw a great crowd. It was full inside; the west doors were open, and people were sitting in the doorway and standing out in the street watching the service. So I too stopped and watched. It was most interesting, but as the service was conducted in French (apparently the Gallican Church differs from the Roman Catholic Church in England in that the service is conducted in the vernacular), I do not know what the service was. Although most of it was in French, bits were in Latin. It was exceptionally spectacular. There were about a hundred little boys in surplices and little girls in white veils (as if dressed for confirmation), all carrying long, lighted candles. Music and hymns were proceeding all the time. The little boys and girls were standing still part of the time, and processing up and down the chancel at other times. Eventually they all processed past the senior priest, attired in full vestments; and he blew out their candles as they passed. Towards the close of the service, a little girl, carrying her candle, was brought out by the priest and stationed in front of the altar with her face to the congregation; then she recited, in French, something which sounded like a very long creed. She was only about twelve or thirteen; but she did it without a stop, and in a clear, pleasant voice. After that a bell rang, everybody bent their heads, and the priest pronounced the Benediction. Then the congregation came out, and behind came the boys and girls and the priest. The people lined the road, and the procession walked on until it reached a kind of yard leading to some institute. The people followed. They all halted inside here. Then the priest prepared to make a little speech and pronounce another Benediction; but he would not proceed until all the little choir boys were perfectly quiet. He waited about five minutes. Then he preached a brief sermon (of course in French) directed to the children. I could not understand much of what he was talking about; but I think he was very eloquent. I could deduce from words here and there that he was reminding them that their fathers and brothers and uncles were fighting at the front, and telling them that if they were not good little boys and girls their fathers and brothers and uncles would fall in battle! Then he pronounced his final Benediction, and we scattered—5.20.

"I could see that everybody was discussing the service and the sermon. I overheard a Frenchman in frock coat and top hat, who seemed to be a churchwarden or something of the kind, expressing his appreciation of the latter.

"Then I came back to camp and paraded for a box-respirator! We then went through 'tear gas.' Then dinner. I sat at the Commandant's table. He was talking about a great concentration up North—guns and supplies and men swarming there recently....

"After dinner I went to bed. Thus ended Whitsun Day, 1917.

"I got up at 7.15 this morning. Breakfast. Then down to the 'bull ring' in full marching order. Gas all day. Fortunately we were under nice shady trees most of the time. We had sandwiches down there between 12 and 1, and got back at 4.30, feeling very hot after the march. Then tea....

"Hamer, Bridgestock, and Allin have gone up the line this morning. I am posted to the 2/5th Lancashire Fusiliers (the battalion Norman Kemp was in!). I shall not be going up the line for a few days, but by the time your reply to this reaches me I shall be there...."

My diary of that same day, May 28, records: "To Paris Plage in the evening." And my letter written home the following day proceeds as follows:

"After writing home yesterday I walked down town, and took a car to the seaside place opposite. The country through which the car went was pretty, and the seaside place quite passable; all right in peace-time I should think. Unfortunately the last car back leaves at 8.15, so I came by it....