he sudden firing of big guns by the
wayside. Once, I was approaching an apparently harmless hole in a
brick wall, when all of a sudden Dandy and I found ourselves enveloped
in flame and almost stunned by a huge report. As we bounded past the
hole, I saw a large gun moving up and down under the force of its
recoil, and with smoke still curling out of its mouth.

The siege battery in which my third son was a gunner had now arrived
and taken up its position in a field behind Anzin, where a 15-inch
howitzer sent forth its deadly missives to the Germans every fifteen
minutes and in return drew their fire. One day a shell burst in a hut
used by some Railway Troops. A large number of them were wounded and
eleven killed, whom I buried in a row on the hillside.

On the 4th of April, we received news that America had declared war upon
Germany. I thanked God in my heart that at last the English-speaking
world had been drawn together, and I knew that the effect upon the
Germans would be disastrous. I rode out that afternoon to give the
good news to our men. I met a British Battalion coming out of the
line, looking very tired and hungry. They were resting by the
roadside, and I passed along and cheered them by telling them that the
United States had now come in definitely as one of our Allies, and
that I thought the effect would be the shortening of the war.
America's decision could not have come at a better time. The year was
opening out before us, and the initiative was coming into our hands
The prospect was bright and our men were keen for the encounter.

April 6th was Good Friday. It was impossible to have service at (p. 166)
Ecoivres, as everyone was so busy, so I rode over to Anzin and had
service for the 7th Siege Battery in an empty Nissen hut. Most of the
men of the battery were present, and I had forty communicants. The
place was lit by candles which every now and then were extinguished by
the firing of the fifteen-inch gun nearby. Easter Day was originally
intended to be the day for our attack, but it had been postponed till
Monday. We could not do much in the way of observing the great feast.
Every room and shed in the town was filled, and men were lying out
under rubber sheets in the fields. I had two celebrations of the Holy
Communion in the Y.M.C.A. hut, the floor of which was covered with
sleeping men. I managed to clear a little space on the stage for the
altar. Of course, not many attended, but at one of the s