I have never cared much for flowers, except in a general way.
But now I noticed a great change.

A wild flower growing in a ditch by the wayside seemed to me to be almost a living thing, and spoke in its mute way of its life of peace and contentment, and mocked, by its very humility, the world of men which was so full of noise and death.
Colour too made a most powerful appeal to the heart.

The gleam of sunlight on the moss that covered an old thatched roof gave one a thrill of gladness.

The world of nature putting on its fresh spring dress had its message to hearts that were lonely and anxious, and it was a message of calm courage and hope.

In Julian Grenfell's beautiful poem "Into Battle," he notes this message of the field and trees.
Everything in nature spoke to the fighting man and gave him its own word of cheer.
Of course all the men did not show they were conscious of these emotional suggestions, but I think they felt them nevertheless.