e morning, only differently introduced. I went and saw the hut manager,
a very decent fellow who is a Baptist minister at home, and he said he'd
like to come in the morning. Well, I didn't know what to say to that; I
hated to hurt him, and, of course, he has no Baptist chapel out here; but
I didn't know what the regulations might be, and excused myself on those
grounds.

"'Then in the afternoon I went round the camp. Oh, Hilda, I was fearfully
nervous--I don't know why exactly, but I was. The men were playing "crown
and anchor," and sleeping, and cleaning kit (this is a rest camp you
know), and it seemed so cold-blooded somehow. I told them anyone could
come in the evening if he wanted to, but that in the morning the service
was for Church of England communicants. I must say I was very bucked up
over the result. I had no end of promises, and those who were going to be
out in the evening said so straight out. Quite thirty said they'd come in
the morning, and they were very respectful and decent. Then I wrote out
and put up my notices. The mess ragged a bit about it, but quite decently
("Here's the padre actually going to do a bit of work!" and the usual
"I shall be a chaplain in the next war!"); and I mentioned to one or two
whom I knew to be Church of England that Captain Harold had said he would
come to the early service. Someone had told me that if the O.C. of a camp
comes, the others often will. After dinner we settled down to bridge,
and about ten-thirty I was just going off to bed when Harold came in with
two or three other men. Well, I hate to tell you, dear, but I promised
I'd write, and, besides, I do want to talk to somebody. Anyway, he was
what they call "merry," and he and his friends were full of talk about
what they'd done up town. I don't know that it was anything very bad, but
it was awful to me to think that this chap was going to communicate next
day. I didn't know what to do, but I couldn't say anything then, and I
slipped off to bed as soon as I could. They made a huge row in the
anteroom for some time, but at last I got to sleep.

"'Next morning I was up early, and got things fixed up nicely. At eight
o'clock _one man_ came rather sheepishly--a young chap I'd seen the day
before--and I waited for some five minutes more. Then I began. About the
Creed, Harold came in, and so we finished the service. Neither of them
seemed to know the responses at all, and I don't think I have ever felt
more miserable.