Say! He's a good one, ain't no quitter, and he won't let nobody else be a quitter." And thus it came that with Corporal Thom and his derelicts the chaplain marched into a new place in the esteem of the men of his battalion, and of its sergeant major.
But of this, of course, Barry had no knowledge.

He knew that he had made some little progress into the confidence of both officers and men in his battalion.

He had made, too, some firm friendships which had relieved, to a certain extent, the sense of isolation and loneliness that had made his first months with the battalion so appalling.

But there still remained the sense of failure inasfar as his specific duty as chaplain was concerned.
The experiences of the first weeks in England only served to deepen in him the conviction that his influence on the men against the evils which were their especial snare was as the wind against the incoming tide, beating in from the North Sea.

He could make a ripple, a certain amount of fussy noise, but the tide of temptation rolled steadily onward, unchecked in its flow.
The old temptations to profanity, drink and lust, that had haunted the soldiers' steps at home, were found to be lying in wait for them here and in aggravated form.