tch, Sir John French writes: 'I have once
more to remark upon the devotion to duty, courage and contempt of danger
which has characterized the work of the chaplains throughout this
campaign.' The padre's work is not to fight; indeed, he is not armed
(anyhow, he is not allowed to be by the authorities); and certainly one
of the difficulties experienced is to withhold oneself as one sees the
brave lads go to their daring and glorious work.

Ambassador of Christ, you go
Up to the very gates of hell,
Through fog of powder, storm of shell,
To speak your Master's message: 'Lo,
The Prince of Peace is with you still,
His peace be with you, His goodwill.'

It is not small, your priesthood's price
To be a man and yet stand by,
To hold your life while others die,
To bless, not share the sacrifice,
To watch the strife and take no part--
You with the fire at your heart.

W.M. LETTS, in the _Spectator_.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] There are now three appointed to each Brigade.

THE CARE OF THE WOUNDED

CHAPTER VIII

THE CARE OF THE WOUNDED

Among the many sad sights witnessed in modern warfare, I question
whether there is any more pathetic than a train of wounded men passing
down from the Front. Every description of injury is noticeable, for shot
and shell are not discriminating. From cases of the severest abdominal
and head wounds, the patient being in a more or less collapsed
condition, one turns to the laughing lad, with only a clean shot through
his forearm, and who still has the exciting influence of the 'scrap'
thickly upon him. But slight or dangerous, each requires attention, for
owing to the grave danger of septic trouble, the smallest scratch may
prove fatal. In their handling of the enormous number of casualties,
the work of the R.A.M.C. will stand out in luminous letters when the
history of the war is written. From sanitation, to a major operation,
this Department is equal to the occasion, and one is lost in admiration
at the splendid devotion to duty exhibited by this strictly scientific
branch of the service.

Wounded men always possess a sad and enthralling interest to the public
mind. It is not morbid curiosity alone which draws men and women to gaze
upon the unhappy sufferers, rather I think it is a feeling akin to awe,
for it is recognized that these men have been in the thick of it, and
the imagination of the onlookers sees the courage