On another occasion I attended, in the capacity of Orderly Officer for
the day, one of Littleton's Church Parades and heard him preach. It was
clear that he was troubled by a suspicion that the war and the details
of its development had discredited in some minds some of the ideas of
which he was the professional exponent. He made a brave struggle,
however, against this tide of unreason. "God does not make things too
easy for us," he explained, "He gives us the opportunities, and if we
choose not to use them, that is our fault. A loving father sets up a
tremendously high standard for his son, and judges him severely, not in
spite of, but because of, his love for him. In God's sight, three or
four years of war may be tremendously worth while."

Then we sang a hymn. I felt inclined to sing instead a song, written by
a soldier who was wounded in France:--

"The Bishop tells us, 'when the boys come back
They will not be the same; for they'll have fought
In a just cause: they led the last attack
On Anti-Christ; their comrades' blood has bought
New right to breed an honourable race.
They have challenged Death and dared him face to face.'
'We're none of us the same!' the boys reply.
For George lost both his legs; and Bill's stone blind;
Poor Jim's shot through the lungs and like to die;
And Bert's gone syphilitic; you'll not find
A chap who served there hasn't found _some_ change.'
And the Bishop said 'The ways of God are strange!"

It was hard for such a limited intelligence as mine, especially in this