had a billet in a street near
by. There was a good theatre in the place, which our 1st Divisional
Concert party took over, and where I had services on Sunday. In and
around the town were several of the battalions; the rest of the
division were in the villages near by. Bruay had not been shelled, and
the mines were being worked as in pre-war days. It was a comfort to
have the men out of the line once again, and the roads round about
were very pleasant, the country being hilly and unspoilt. Bethune was
within easy reach, and a visit to the quaint town made a pleasant
afternoon's ride.

Rumours were abroad that with the opening of Spring we were to begin
an offensive, and it was generally believed that towards the close of
the next year we might hope for the end of hostilities. Our men were
being trained, when weather permitted, in open warfare, and the time
of so-called rest was really a period of constant activity. The chief
hotel in the place became an officers' club, and very pleasant were
the reunions we had there. I was glad we were going to spend Christmas
out of the line, and determined to take advantage of the theatre as a
place for Christmas services. The 8th and 14th Battalions were
quartered in the town, besides some smaller units, so we had a good
many men to draw upon for a congregation. On Christmas Eve, at
half-past eleven, I had a celebration of the Holy Communion. We (p. 160)
had a splendid band to play the Christmas hymns, and a large number
of men attended. The stage was made to look as much as possible like a
chancel, and the service was very hearty. Many made their communion. I
also had a watch-night service on New Year's Eve. The theatre was
almost filled with men--there were rows of them even in the gallery.
It was an inspiring sight, and we all felt we were beginning a year
that was to decide the destinies of the Empire. I told the men that
somewhere in the pages of the book which we were opening that night
lay hidden the tremendous secret of our success or failure. At ten
minutes to twelve we sat in silence, while the band played Chopin's
Funeral March. It was almost too moving, for once again the vision
came before us of the terrible battle-fields of the Somme and the
faces that had gone. Then we all rose, and there was a brief moment
for silent prayer. At midnight the buglers of the 14th Battalion
sounded the Last Post, and at the close the band struck up the hymn "O
God our help in ages pas