hope as it often is--the _decisive_ battle was further south at Loos.
But the changed mood of the wounded now coming in was noticeable. Our
fighting men hate to be beaten, and the story was of confusion and lack
of support. Our own gas, too, had lingered on the ground and then
drifted back on our own trenches. A young German student who was brought
in wounded admitted the gallantry of the first rush, but he said, 'We
always understood those trenches could be rushed, but we also know that
they cannot be held on so small a front. They are commanded on either
side.' In all seven hundred wounded and gassed were brought in from the
British regiments of this division, and there was much work to be done.

Sunday was a bright, warm day, and in the afternoon we gathered all who
could walk to a service in the green meadow behind the operating
theatre. (There, too, they were busy enough, God knows.) The men came
very willingly. I spoke a few words from the text 'Blessed are the
peacemakers,' for that benediction was meant also for those lads who had
just struck so brave a blow for a decent world. A gunner said
afterwards, 'Do you know, I have only heard two sermons since I came out
ten months ago. The other was by the Bishop of London, and he took the
same text!' It is, as a matter of fact, very difficult to serve the
gunners properly; they were so scattered in little groups. It was very
peaceful that Sunday afternoon--no sign of war anywhere, except the
maimed results of it--as those men remembered with tears those whom it
had 'pleased Almighty God to take out of this transitory world into His
mercy.'

Every wounded man has a letter to write or to have written for him, and
it was essential that since the people at home knew there was heavy
fighting going on all messages should be sent off at once. This is one
of the chaplain's voluntary tasks, and we were kept close to it every