o' Christianity, I'll tyke me charnces down below w'en I gets knocked
out." His comrades greeted such outbursts with hearty approval.

"I'm with you there, mate! 'Ell won't be such a dusty old place if all
the Christians go upstairs."

"They ain't no God 'avin' anything to do with this war, I'm telling you!
All the religious blokes in England an' France an' Germany ain't a-go'n'
to pray 'Im into it!"

I am not in a position to speak for Hans and Fritz, who faced us from the
other side of No-Man's-Land; but as for Tommy, it seemed to me that he
had a higher opinion of the Deity than many of his better-educated
countrymen at home.

IV. TOMMY

By the end of the month we had seen more of suffering and death than it
is good for men to see in a lifetime. There were attacks and
counter-attacks, hand-to-hand fights in communication trenches with bombs
and bayonets, heavy bombardments, nightly burial parties. Tommy Atkins
looked like a beast. His clothing was a hardened-mud casing; his body was
the color of the sticky Flanders clay in which he lived; but his soul was
clean and fine. I saw him rescuing wounded comrades, tending them in the
trenches, encouraging them and heartening them when he himself was
discouraged and sick at heart.

"You're a-go'n' 'ome, 'Arry! Blimy! think o' that! Back to old Blightey
w'ile the rest of us 'as got to stick it out 'ere! Don't I wish I was
you! Not 'arf!"

"You ain't bad 'urt! Strike me pink! You'll be as keen as a w'istle in a
couple o' months. An' 'ere! Christmas in Blightey, son! S'y! I'll tyke
yer busted shoulder if you'll give me the chanct!"

"They ain't nothin' they can't do fer you back at the base 'ospital.
'Member 'ow they fixed old Ginger up? You ain't caught it 'arf as bad!"

In England, before I knew him for the man he is, I said, "How am I to
endure living with him?" And now I am thinking, how am I to endure living
without him; without the inspiration of his splendid courage; without the
visible example of his unselfish devotion to his fellows? There were a
few cowards and shirkers who failed to live up to the standard set by
their comrades. I remember the man of thirty-five or forty who lay
whimpering in the trench when there was unpleasant work to be done, while
boys half his age kicked him in a vain attempt to waken him to a sense of
duty; but instances of this kind were rare. There were not enough of them
to serve as a foil to the shining deeds which were of daily