Christian Work during the Fighting—A Monotony of Horrors—A Brave "Bad Lad"—Strange Places for Worship—No Apples on his Conscience—Transferred to Flanders—Strangest Spectacle of the War—Lord Roberts in France—At Dead of Night—A Shell Stops a Sermon—The University Student.
Sunday, September 6, 1914, will be a memorable date for British soldiers, for it was the day on which the long and perilous retreat from Mons came to an end, and they once more turned to meet their foe. It was a day of great rejoicing. They were not privileged to join together in the worship of God; instead there was constant marching. But they were advancing now, not retreating, and there was a spring in their tread, and a glad light in their eyes, which showed of what stuff they were made, and pronounced them "ready, aye ready."
As they marched steadily forward, they passed through village after village devastated by the German troops. Stories of barbarism were told them which made them clench their hands and set their teeth. Here and there, however, it was different, and they passed through villages on some of the doors of which was the notice, "Only defenceless women and children are here. Do not molest them." It seemed as though when the German troops had their commanding officer with them, and were well under control, they regarded the rules of war; but that when they were detached from the central command and could do more as they liked, then all the savage in them was let loose.
At last the Marne was reached and the battle begun. It is no part of our purpose in this book to describe that and the following battles. Our business is with the Christian work done in connexion with them, and only so far as they help to illustrate the work done have we anything at all to say about the conflicts. For five long days raged the battle of the Marne, from September 6 to 10 inclusive. During it deeds of heroism were performed by the hundred which will never be recorded.
While it continued but little of a specifically religious character could be performed by the chaplains. But they were everywhere—with their men in the front, with the ambulance and stretcher-bearers, bending over the wounded with words of Christian hope, and when the darkness fell, burying the dead. They had the perils of the battle, but none of the excitement of participation.
Take this as a tribute from the Rev. Owen Spencer Watkins to the work of the R.A.M.C. I quote from the Methodist Recorder.
"Then the shrapnel swept the road; the bearers scattered in all directions; for a moment I thought General Rolt and his staff were wiped out, but all reached cover in safety. For myself, I leaned close against the high bank, whilst in the bush just above my head rattled the bullets like rain, and the leaves and twigs fell round me in a shower, but the danger was not for long.
"'Stretcher-bearers!' came the shout down the hill, and Major Richards sprang to his feet and the first squad followed him. My task was for a time to direct the bearers, and I was filled with admiration as the men faced the hillside, and what waited for them in the woods above.
"Remember these were not fighting men who carried arms, and they could take no cover, for they had the stretcher to carry with its suffering load. I never admired the Royal Army Medical Corps as I did that day on the hills above Pisseloup and Montreuil.
"'Next squad!' I would shout, and without the slightest hesitation or sign of fear they would take their stretchers and climb the hill. Now Major Richards was in the road dressing the wounds of those brought in, and working with equal bravery and almost a surgeon's skill, good Sergeant-Major Spowage laboured at his side. Later they were joined by Lieutenant Tasker, R.A.M.C, and still the wounded streamed down the hills above.