One Young Man Part 3

To this, written by Sydney Baxter, I add nothing. Not to me has it come to dig a shallow, sh.e.l.l-swept grave for my chum. What words, then, have I?

One Young Man Receives a Letter

CHAPTER VI

ONE YOUNG MAN RECEIVES A LETTER

George's stepfather wrote to Sydney Baxter as soon as he received the heartbroken letter telling of his chum's death. To this letter from the father I devote a chapter. It must stand alone. In all the glorious annals of the war it is, to me at least, unique. Nothing that I can write can add to its pathos or increase its heroism or enhance its beauty. I leave it to speak for itself--this letter which will live, I believe, as the most beautiful expression of a stepfather's love and devotion in our language.

"MY DEAR LADDIE,

"Our hearts are breaking for you, and our thoughts and prayers are much taken up on your behalf. All along we have united you and George in our pet.i.tions, and all that was sent addressed to George was meant for Syd and George. We never thought of you separately at all, but just as sure as you shared all in common, so our thoughts were for you both.

"George's call home was undreamt of by me. It was dreaded by his mother, but I hardly think the possibility of such a thing had entered into the minds of his sisters or brothers.

I cannot explain it, but I never expected him to give his life out there. I knew many were praying for you both, and must have rested my mind completely on the expectation of our prayers being answered in the way we wanted. It was not to be. And at the first look one feels rebellious in that G.o.d permitted his death to take place. But who am I, and of what account am I, in the scheme of things? Can I understand the infinite thought of G.o.d? Can I see the end, as He can? I can only bow my head, with a heart full of sadness, and accept the ruling of my G.o.d; and hope for a reunion with our dear lad when my call shall come. It was something for me, a stepfather, to have had the fathering of such a dear lad. It is a heart-break to me that that is ended, and never more in reality (though I expect often in mind) shall I hear his voice or feel his kiss, or see the dear lad, as he used in these later years to do, standing in front of the fireplace talking down at me on the chair or listening to me talking up at him on Sat.u.r.day nights. You can picture him, I have no doubt. Now all is over, his place in the home is empty--but in the heart that can never be. His Mum (as he always called his mother) is heart-broken, but very brave. The dear woman is worthy to have had such a son, and that is praise indeed.

If she was prouder of one of the children or made any distinction between them, George held that place, and though I think we were all conscious of it, none of us grudged it him. And that is the greatest tribute that could be paid to him--when you think it out. We are all jealous of Mother's love. We all want it, and if one is first he must be good indeed if it is not a cause of trouble. And that it never was in his case.

"Now, my dear lad, I have a proposal to make to you. We received some money to send things out to the lads at the front, and there is some left. Besides, George sent some home, so that he might get what he wanted sent him without asking if I could afford it, I suppose. Well, I am to send you some little thing every now and then; you are to get another friend and share with him, and you are to make every endeavour short of cowardice (of which you are not capable) to save your life, valuable to all who have the privilege of knowing you, doubly valuable to your mother, and precious to your many friends. We feel we have a personal claim on you, and I am writing you just as I would were you indeed my boy, and we entreat you to bear up, to do your duty, to be a brave and true and Christian lad, and to come back safe to us all. Oh, what a happy day it will be when we welcome you back home!

"We shall always think of you as partly ours; and for what you were to and did for George we will ever bless you. Dear lad, get another friend to lean upon and be leant upon. It is a glorious thing--friends.h.i.+p. You risked your life to try and save George's. G.o.d bless you for it. I think He will. If you could read our hearts, you would feel afraid. I cannot write as I would like. It is in my heart, in my brain, but the pen won't put in on the paper. It couldn't. But it is there, a deep love for you, a great admiration for your bravery, and an earnest prayer that you may be preserved to live a happy and useful life for many years to come.

"Mummie wishes me to say how her heart goes out to you, and how she feels for you in your loneliness. Be a.s.sured of a place in a good woman's prayers, and be a.s.sured also that all of us continue constantly in prayer for you. We did not know how constantly and continually we could pet.i.tion the Great Father till you lads went away. We will not cease because one needs them no more. Rather we will be more constant, and perhaps that may be one of the results of this war. Think what a power the prayers of a whole world would have with G.o.d! If only they were for the one thing--that His Kingdom would come, it would be accomplished at once! May the knowledge of His all-pervading love dwell more and more in the hearts of the people of the world, so that wars and all kindred evils may cease and the hearts of the people be taken up with the one task of living for G.o.d and His Kingdom.

"May G.o.d be ever present with you, watching over and blessing you, and may He come into your heart more and more, helping and sustaining you in your hard task, and blessing you in all your endeavours to be His true son and servant.

"Your loving friend, G---- B----.

"P.S.--We have not, up to the time of writing this, received an official notification of our poor laddie's death. I felt I must write you, however. You will perhaps be able to read into my letter what I have been unable to say, but all my thoughts for you are summed up in 'G.o.d bless you.' Thank all the dear lads for their kind sympathy with us."

One Young Man in the Salient

CHAPTER VII

ONE YOUNG MAN IN THE SALIENT

The city of Ypres, which Sydney Baxter had entered some few months previously, was now a heap of ruins. The whole country was desolate: the once picturesque roads lined by trees were now but a line of sh.e.l.l holes, with here and there leafless, branchless stumps, seared guardians of the thousand graves. On June 7th, 1915, Sydney Baxter writes:

"We have been having a very lively time, a second touch of real life-destroying warfare. Many of the boys have been bowled over. We have had a series of heavy bombardments--sh.e.l.ls everywhere, so that it was a matter of holding tight where we were. However, I was again fortunate, and have proved to myself and to the Captain that I can hold my head whilst under heavy sh.e.l.l and rifle fire, although it's impossible to keep one's heart beating normal under such conditions.

"We are now entrenched for a day or two, but it is not over-lively. A corporal who was a fellow bedman of George's and mine at Crowborough has just been killed. The poor chap died in agony.

"It is indeed comforting to know that so many are pet.i.tioning 'Our Father' to spare me, if it be His will, through all the dangers and hards.h.i.+ps of this uproar, and the confidence that the friends have in my return is very helpful. I have had the feeling that G.o.d will give me another chance of doing more work, but the thought of being killed has not the terror it had. The idea of joining George perhaps gives this comfort, but of course I know that it does not rest with me--unless of course by negligence.

"Will you include, please, two fat candles as you sent before."

_June 16th, 1915._

"MY DEAREST MOTHER,

"Just a short note in reply to yours received this morning.

I am still as per usual. Depends on how much sleep I get as to how I feel. As I was able last night to get to bed before 3 o'clock, and slept on to 10 o'clock this morning, I am A1.

"We got drenched the night before last--every one soaked to the skin. We came out of the trench, and as there were no huts or dug-outs ready for us, we had to stand out in the rain for over an hour when we arrived at our destination.

As the weather changed next day we managed to dry our things. It was a funny sight to see chaps walking about in pants, and some with sandbags for trousers.

"It is rumoured we are leaving here to go ----, but being a rumour it won't come true. However, I shouldn't mind a change. We are all fed up with this spot.

THE ALCOVE DUG-OUT, _July 8th, 1915._

" ... How I long to be within the walls of our dear old church! Some of the fellows can't realise or understand when I tell them my church life and work are so much to me. I owe all my happiness to G.o.d through my home and to the a.s.sociations and work at the church. I hope it will be His Divine Will to spare me for fuller activities and to make up for the sins of omission.

" ... Don't imagine for a minute we learn French out here.

We rarely see a civilian, and when we do we say, 'Avez vous du pain?' and the reply is generally 'How many do you want?'

They know more English than we do French."

_Later._

"The fight for Hill 60 and the struggle with the Canadians against the Hun at St. Julien has weakened our division, and we are to be transferred further south to a quieter part of the line.

"We are not sorry, for we feel sadly in need of a rest, and Ypres and its environments are _literally_ a sh.e.l.l-swept area of countless graves. The H.A.C. has relieved us, and we marched back the other night to huts a few miles behind the line. The following evening we marched still farther back, crossing the Franco-Belgian border to the rail-head. We are having a few days' rest, spending many hours cleaning up, not only our clothes and equipment, but our ceremonial drill and exercises."

One Young Man's Sunday

CHAPTER VIII

ONE YOUNG MAN'S SUNDAY