night when I did sleep--only 700 yards from the
Germans--and, as I have said before, it _was_ cold.

When the thaw set in, I put a couple of bricks down and put a box-lid on
top, so that I could stand in a dry place. We had two picks and two
shovels in that cellar in case anything happened overnight. I have been up
against it. Whenever I talked to the boys there they sat with their
gas-bags round their necks, and one held mine while I talked. It was quite
a common thing to have something fall quite close to us while we were
singing.

Imagine singing "Cover my defenceless head," just as a piece of the roof
is falling in. Or--

" In death's dark vale I fear no ill With Thee, dear Lord, beside me-- "

then another crash! That makes things real. Every word was accompanied by
the roar of guns--the rattle of the machine gun and the crack of the rifle.
We never knew what it was to be quiet.

A shell once came and burst just the other side of the wall against which
I was standing and blew part of it over my head. I have suffered as your
boys have, and I have preached the Gospel to your boys in the front line.
I long for the privilege of doing it again.

* * * * *

If I had my way I'd take all the best preachers in Britain and I'd put
them down in France. And if the church and chapel goers grumbled, I'd say,
"You're overfed. You can do without a preacher for a little." And if they
were to ask, "How do you know?" I should reply, "Because it's hard work to
get you to one meal a week. You only come once on a Sunday and often not
that. That's how I know you are not enjoying your food."

I love talking to the Scottish boys--the kilties. Oh! they are great
boys--the kilties. When the French first saw them they didn't know what
they were, whether they were men or women.

"Don't you know what they are?" said a bright-faced English boy. "They are
what we call the Middlesex."

You can't beat a British boy, he's on the spot all the time--"the
Middlesex!" Some of you haven't seen the joke yet.

* * * * *

I once went to a hut just behind the line, within the sound of the guns.
Buildings all round us had been blown to pieces. The leader of this hut
was a clergyman of the Church of England, but he wasn't an ecclesiastic
there, he was a man amongst men, and we loved him.

"Gipsy Smith," he said, "I don't know what you will do; the boys in the
billets this week are