With Our Fighting Men / The story of their faith, courage, endurance in the Great War

by William E. Sellers

The naval chaplain as a rule is an entirely different type of man from his brother in the Army. He is monarch of all he surveys. He has to face no competition in his work. He partakes of the freedom of the sea. For the most part he is a right down good fellow, but, so far as I can judge, he has not the type of spirituality of which we see so much in the Army. He is all sorts of things rolled into one—sea-lawyer, letter-writer, story-teller, lecturer, schoolmaster, game-director, and a host of other things beside. He must be absolutely sincere if he is to be any good at all, for he never gets away from the busy life of the ship, and he of all men "cannot be hid." Often he is the friend and counsellor of the men, sharing their joys and sorrows. He is the go-between for officers and men, and if he be efficient—and an inefficient man could hardly remain long on board—he makes himself indispensable.

Of course he shares all the dangers of the ship, and to-day if a ship be beaten it is also sunk. Never were the dangers of the sea so great. Dangers on the sea, under the sea, over the sea, crowd around. He never knows when or how suddenly the end may come, and it behoves him to be ready, and brave. We are told that, when the three cruisers were torpedoed in the North Sea, the Rev. E.G. Uphill Robson, chaplain of the Aboukir, went down cheering the men he loved so well. The Rev. A.H.J. Pitts, the chaplain of the Good Hope, died bravely with Sir Christopher Cradock. A petty officer who knew him in another ship says, "With him compulsory church was quite unnecessary. Nobody in the ship would be absent from the service if he could possibly manage to get there."

One of the most terrible catastrophes of the war was the blowing up of the Bulwark in Sheerness Harbour. The Rev. G.H. Hewetson, the chaplain, was on board and perished with the rest. He had only been married a few months.

"Only the other week," wrote a correspondent of the Church Family Newspaper, "I met a stoker, who told me he, Mr. Hewetson, held meetings for men every evening in his cabin, and he was constantly at their elbow when spells from duty would permit, guiding them in 'the things that matter.' It was also my privilege to know him as chaplain to the Royal Naval Barracks, Portsmouth, during his stay of nearly three years, which terminated with his taking up duties on the Bulwark at the outbreak of war. He was a man of God, also a sportsman of the highest tone, being an expert fencer, a runner-up in the Army and Navy championships at Olympia two seasons ago. He was a man of some literary ability, for which the Chaplain of the Fleet made him editor of the Church Pennant, i.e. the Church magazine of the Navy. Mr. Hewetson was an earnest believer in individual methods, and invariably worked sixteen hours a day, visiting all recruits, detention quarters, sick bay, and held no fewer than five services on Sundays."

I suppose we include our chaplains when we pray for those who "go down to the sea in ships"; but surely these men who are there, not to fight, but to preach and pray, claim a special interest in our prayers.

Prayers are read every morning on every large war-ship, and this is, of course, the chaplain's duty, if one is carried in the ship. The life and work of the day depends very largely on how this is done.

On Sunday there is a sermon—just a quiet, homely talk from heart to heart, and in these days we may well believe that men are thrilled by the message as never before. Of course, during the winter storms morning prayers on deck or Sunday parades are impossible, for many a great green sea will break over the decks even of a super-Dreadnought. At these times service is held below and men attend in relays. On some of the super-Dreadnoughts there are little churches. The Queen Mary, for instance, has one.

I have asked a few representative chaplains to tell me something of the spiritual work on board their ships.

The Rev. C.W. Lydall, chaplain of the Lion, which took part in the North Sea battle, says: "I can only tell you that in this ship our religious motto has been 'business as usual.' I mean the war routine has interfered as little as possible with our services, which have been attended well. There has been a decided increase in the number of communicants, and in many small ways the men have shown a fuller consciousness of their dependence upon God."

The Rev. Arthur C. Moreton, chaplain of the Invincible, which was engaged in the battle off the Falkland Islands, writes: "The usual services are held when practicable, and on Sunday and Wednesday nights I have a prayer meeting with Bible-reading in my cabin."