The next day was Sunday so I attended the service in the military church.

After it was over, I went with a young flying officer into the old cathedral.
The service had ended and we were alone in the building, but the sunlight flooded it and brought out the richness of contrast in light and shadow, and the air was still fragrant with the smell of incense.
My friend and I were talking, as we sat there, about the effect the war had had upon religion.

Turning to me he said, "The great thing (p.

135) I find when I am in a tight place in the air is to pray to Jesus Christ.

Many and many a time when I have been in difficulties and thought that I really must be brought down, I have prayed to Him and He has preserved me." I looked at the boy as he spoke.