Here is one who has got a trench to dig, and it strikes me as a very quaint ending to a quaint letter. He has told us in the letter of a comrade of his who, when wounded in the foot by a shrapnel shell, exclaimed, "Never mind; thank God, I still have one left." And he concludes by saying, "I could still go on relating my experiences, but I am just about to dig another trench, so I will close now with 1 Peter i. 5, 'Who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation.'"
Evidently he was thinking of divine things all the time, and as he dug his trench he might truly sing—
My hands are but engaged below,
My heart is still with Thee.
See them as they come out of the trenches! Some of them during the terrible weather about Christmas time had literally to be dragged out by their comrades, for they stuck fast in the mud.
Talk about arctic or antarctic regions! In those regions explorers can at any rate move forward or move back, but to the men in the trenches during the worst of the weather there has been no possibility of movement. They could not even drag one leg out and put it down again. Many of them beat their feet with their muskets, or anything that came to hand, to keep some life in them.
But their relief time has come. Look at them, caked with mud, unshaved and haggard. A few days in the trenches makes old men of them. March! How can they march? They just shuffle along as best they may, comrade helping comrade.
But actually baths have been provided; and while a good hot bath is being enjoyed, their clothes are cleaned and sterilised, and then a hot meal and a good sleep, and you would hardly believe these were the same men. But they have never been down-hearted—not they. They have "kept smiling," as they are so fond of saying.
COMFORTING A DYING GERMAN.
When "Tommy" asked what he could do for his late antagonist, the latter replied, "Nothing, unless you would be so good as to hold my hand until all is over."
Drawn by F. Matania.[ToList]