They were always kind to wounded prisoners.

"If thine enemy thirst give him drink." Just before the men went into the trenches, I shook hands with one or two and then, as they passed up, half the battalion shook hands with me.

I was glad they did, but at the same time I felt then that it was not wise for a chaplain to do anything which looked as if he were taking matters too seriously.

It was the duty of everyone to forget private feelings in the one absorbing desire to kill off the enemy.

I saw the different battalions going up and was returning towards headquarters when whom should I meet but the dreaded Brigadier coming up the road with his staff.