With our Fighting Men Part 13

CHAPTER VII

CHRISTIAN HEROISM

A Picture in "Punch"--Tommy's Deep-rooted Religion--Courage of Chaplains--A Sh.e.l.l in His Back--Stories of Christian Soldiers--First Clergyman Soldier to Die--Driver Osborne--A Church Parade of Four--"Tell My Wife I am Ready "--Duty overcomes Fear.

There was a time when men thought that the reckless devil-may-care man made the finest soldier; that the hard drinker, the hard swearer, the riotous liver came out best in a fight. Wellington wrote of his "collection of ruffians" in the Peninsula: "It is impossible to describe to you the irregularities and excesses committed by the troops. We are an excellent army on parade, an excellent one to fight, but we are worse than an enemy in the country." How greatly times have changed since then!

Sir George White once said that recklessness and lawlessness will carry men a certain distance, but when men are half fed, when nights are wet and cold, and when nerves are broken down by shot and sh.e.l.l, then the lawless man disappears. It is when he is called upon to take the place of a comrade shot on a lonely picket that the man who has disciplined himself proves the true soldier.

General Nogi, who commanded the j.a.panese forces at Port Arthur, held the same view. His words may well be borne in mind at this time:

"Only he who has conquered himself in time of peace can aspire to be a fighting man under the Sun flag. The brilliant and faithful deeds of the soldier on the battle-field are nothing but the flowering and fruition of the work and training of his daily life in time of peace.

A man whose life is in disorder in time of peace would have a rather difficult task if he tried to perform with correctness and success the duties of a true soldier on the field of battle."

If we carry these statements on to their issue, then surely the Christian soldier should fight best of all. He has not only the discipline and training of the Army, but moral discipline and training as well. And he has something more--the spiritual fact which dominates his being and transfigures and transforms him. To him death is not death, he lives and will live, and in the worst of all fiery furnaces there is always with him "the form of the fourth, like unto the Son of G.o.d."

Such men as these are unconquerable. They remind us of _Punch's_ famous cartoon, "Unconquerable"; for _Punch_ is not only a humorist, he is a preacher too.

_The Kaiser_: "So you see--you've lost everything."

_The King of the Belgians_: "Not my soul!"

The Kaiser has gained his victory and sheathed his sword. Belgium is his; there is nothing in that country left for him to conquer. A ruined building is behind him, on his left is the broken wheel of a gun-carriage. In the distance is a Belgian family--an aged man, a woman, a child. The woman's husband is not there--most likely he is dead.

The King of the Belgians has lost his helmet. His uniform is war-worn, his hair untidy. His scabbard is empty, but he has not parted with his sword. He still grasps it in his strong right hand.

"You have lost everything," says the Kaiser--"Liege, Namur, Brussels, Antwerp." "No, not everything. Not my soul."

But the King of the Belgians was not alone in the claim which _Punch_ puts into his life. Every Christian man fighting for his country, and many another, wounded, frost-bitten, dying, can answer "Not my soul."

You cannot take that from him, it is his own sacred possession, and the consciousness that he possesses it still nerves him to do and dare.

As the Rev. E.R. Day, Church of England chaplain at the front, says: "There were men to whom we might almost kneel down in reverence. The bravery, endurance, heroism, and patience of our men at the front are such that French people could not understand it."

It is not necessary to claim that these qualities are the sole possession of the Christian man. It is, indeed, far otherwise. But the Christian graces produce them best of all. Mr. Day is right when he says, "Though apparently careless and light-hearted, one realised that there was a deep-rooted religion in our soldiers, and that it was indeed a fool's game to judge a man by his outward appearance." It is largely because of that "deep-rooted religion" that the qualities of "bravery, endurance, heroism, and patience" are produced.

We must remember that our Army at the front is made up in no small degree of men from homes in which G.o.d is honoured, many of them old Sunday-school boys. They have been trained in religion, they have been taught to pray. Some have forgotten much that they were taught, but they have not forgotten the old hymns and prayers, and in their time of need that "deep-rooted" religious instinct has a.s.serted itself. As one of them said to me, "I grew too old for Sunday-school, and I wandered far away from G.o.d. For years I never prayed; but in the battle of the Marne I began to pray again, and I have kept on praying.

I tell you what it is, sir, most men out there are praying now." Yes, there is felt the need for G.o.d and so there is prayer. My point is that, all things being equal, the man who prays is the best soldier, because he possesses spiritual power as well as material.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Central News Photo._ THE BISHOP OF LONDON AT THE FRONT AT EASTER.

Addressing men of the Army Service Corps from a transport cart]

I purpose therefore telling in this chapter of the heroism of the men who pray, while at the same time I do not overlook the heroism of the Army as a whole. My purpose will be answered if I convince my readers that, instead of religion impairing the courage of our soldiers, it is increased and intensified thereby.

May I first speak of the courage of our chaplains? Not every one expects a "parson" to be brave. The pulpit has been spoken of by the ill-informed as "The Coward's Castle," but hundreds of these parsons have been transferred to the forefront of the fight. As I write this, many of them are already fighting in the ranks, and many more will soon be there.

But the chaplain is not a fighting man. Not a shot does he fire, not a bayonet thrust does he give. He sees the shot and sh.e.l.l bursting round him, but he has not the stimulus of the fight. How have they borne themselves--these men who have been transferred from the pulpit to the battle-field? Two hundred of them are there. Has there been one lacking in courage? I doubt it. The stories I have already told are stories of conspicuous bravery. Let me add one or two more.

I have already mentioned the name of the Rev. Percy Wyndham Guinness, Church of England chaplain, 3rd Cavalry Brigade. He has been appointed by the King a Companion of the Distinguished Service Order, in recognition of his services with the Expeditionary Force. The official statement is: "On the 5th November at Kruistraat when Major Dixon, 16th Lancers, was mortally wounded, he went on his own initiative into the trenches under heavy fire and brought him to the ambulance, and on the afternoon of the same day, being the only individual with a horse in the sh.e.l.led area, took a message under heavy fire from the 4th Hussars to the headquarters of the 3rd Cavalry Brigade."

That is the bare official statement, but it is enough. We may read between the lines bravery pre-eminent, and right worthily does he wear the D.S.O.

"T.P.'s" _Great Deeds of the Great War_ tells another story. "Some of the ministers at the front are doing great deeds of sacrifice. As I was coming away from the hospital, I met one of them accompanied by a corporal. The minister stopped and inquired from me the way to the hospital. Naturally enough, I asked the corporal what was the matter with him. Before I could get the words out of my mouth, the minister turned round,--and I don't think I could describe the admiration I had for that man. He had walked about a mile and a half with a great lump of sh.e.l.l in his back, the size of a man's hand." That was endurance if you like, and it was the endurance of a Padre.

I cannot better sum up the heroism of the chaplains at the front than in the words of Field-Marshal Sir John French in his despatch published on February 17, 1915. "In a quiet and unostentatious manner the chaplains of all denominations have worked with devotion and energy in their respective spheres. The number with the forces in the field at the commencement of the war was comparatively small, but towards the end of last year, the Rev. J.M. Simms, D.D., K.H.C, princ.i.p.al chaplain, a.s.sisted by his secretary, the Rev. W. Drury, reorganised the branch, and placed the spiritual welfare of the soldiers on a more satisfactory footing. It is hoped that a further increase of personnel may be found possible. I cannot speak too highly of the devoted manner in which all chaplains, whether with troops in the trenches, or in attendance on the sick and wounded in casualty clearing stations and hospitals on the line of communications, have worked throughout the campaign."

The day after this statement was published came the despatches mentioning the names of those noted for distinguished conduct in the field, and in this--the second list--we find the names of no fewer than sixteen chaplains, while the Hon. and Rev. Maurice Peel (brother of Lord Peel) has received the new Military Cross.

The stories, however, that I most want to tell are the stories of the soldiers, officers and men. They were all alike, but my stories are confined to the definitely Christian soldiers. Their spirit is indicated in the following letter from Captain Norman Leslie of the Rifle Brigade, who has since died for his country.

"Try not to worry too much about the war, anyway. Units, individuals cannot count. Remember we are writing a new page of history. Future generations cannot be allowed to read the decline of the British Empire and attribute it to us. We live our little lives and die. To some are given chances of proving themselves men and to others no chance comes. Whatever our individual faults, virtues, or qualities may be it matters not, but when we are up against big things let us forget individuals, and let us act as one great British unit, united and fearless. It is better far to go out with honour than survive with shame."

That is the true spirit of the Christian soldier--"Better far to go out with honour than survive with shame."

But again I am oppressed with a superabundance of riches. The stories of Christian heroism which could be told would fill this book. The Church's Roll of Honour lengthens rapidly. I choose at random.

There is, for example, Captain James Fergus Mackain, 34th Sikh Pioneers, a zealous member of the Church of England Men's Society, and before the war Honorary Secretary of its Union in the diocese of Lah.o.r.e. "Always bright and hopeful, brave and zealous, ever ready to help anyone in any way he could, and yet so humble and retiring that it was always his beautiful Christian character rather than himself that seemed to stand forward. The quality of his handshake won all hearts, and even now one seems to feel his vigorous grasp so characteristic of his thoroughness. A great gentle plaything with the children, a pacifying, controlling influence with boys and lads, a quiet sure leadership with men, is it any wonder that such a man was loved and honoured?" He, too, laid down his life for his country.

There was Lieutenant David Scott Dodgson, R.G.A., who was killed in action ten days before his thirtieth birthday. Since his death his promotion to a captaincy had been gazetted. He was laying out a telephone cable for the battery--a particularly dangerous and important piece of work--and while doing so was shot. His father served through the Indian Mutiny and saved the life of Havelock at Lucknow. Like father, like son.

There was Second Lieutenant H. Arnold Hosegood, 5th Royal Fusiliers, who was killed in action near Ypres on February 24. A fine upstanding man, six feet three inches in height, a daring rider, a good shot.

"Generous, chivalrous, and modest, he had a great gift of friendliness." Before the war he was for a time Superintendent of the Westbury Park Wesleyan Sunday-school, Bristol, and Secretary of the Trinity Guild. He was only twenty-three years of age.

There was Private Paul Holman of the H.A.C. He was killed while on sentry duty on February 17. A comrade writes: "His first thought was evidently that he must warn the guard; this he did, becoming unconscious immediately afterwards." His colonel says of him: "He was a splendid type of young Englishman and a fine soldier, greatly beloved by us all--officers and men." He had just begun to practise as a barrister before the war broke out.

There were Second Lieutenant J.C. Baptist Crozier, Royal Munster Fusiliers, nephew of the Archbishop of Armagh, and Captain L.A.F.

Cane, East Lancashire Regiment, who died leading his men to capture a trench, and Lieutenant Compton, Royal Scots Greys, son of the late Lord Alwyne Compton, and scores of other officers, of whom we may say as was said of those of old, "Who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, from weakness were made strong, waxed mighty in war, turned to flight armies of aliens."

We expect, however, that officers will set an example of bravery to their men, and though we mourn the large percentage of officers who have fallen in the field, we would not have it otherwise. It is the tradition of the Army, and a n.o.ble tradition too.

Perhaps this is the place to record the death of the first clergyman-soldier who has been killed in this war. The combination of minister of the Gospel and soldier of the line is so remarkable that the death of the first of these marks an epoch in the Church's history.

Captain Lionel Fairfax Studd, of the Rangers, 12th County of London Regiment, died of wounds received in action on February 14, 1915. He was the son of Mr. J.E.K. Studd, of the Polytechnic, and nephew of Mr.

C.T. Studd. He had been ordained by the Bishop of London to a curacy at St. James, Holloway, at Trinity, 1914. But, on the outbreak of war, he felt it to be his duty, after very grave reflection, to take his place with his old regiment. Devoted to Christ, he was devoted also to his country.

The deeds, however, upon which I wish to dwell in this chapter are the deeds of Christian non-commissioned officers and men. I must choose with care, and the stories I tell will, I hope, show different phases of Christian courage.

Let me first tell how Driver F.A. Osborne won the French V.C. For years Driver Osborne has been a.s.sociated with the Wesley Hall Brotherhood, Leicester, and although now on the field still counts himself a member.

I quote from the _Methodist Times_.

"The story has been slowly imparted to us. In September the gloom of the long and terrible retreat from Mons was lifted by the announcement of the capture of ten German guns by the English. Then fugitive paragraphs made reference to three men who had fought alone, wounded, but undaunted. Only now can the whole story be pieced together, and it is a veritable romance--tragic, heroic, glorious.

"It was on September 1, 1914, in a village near Compiegne, that the L Battery of six guns limbered up on reveille at 2.30, waiting for a missing order to retire. The French cavalry they were supporting retired unnoticed in the mist, and at 4.25, as the light grew, the Germans were perceived, but were thought to be the French. At 4.57 their battery of eleven guns and two maxims opened fire. The first sh.e.l.l killed Driver Osborne's horse, and in three minutes the gun teams were destroyed, only six horses being left.

"Men fell in droves, but Captain Bradbury and the men available strove to unlimber the guns, and in five minutes three were ready for action.