ak and his eyes were full of tears. There was no
possibility here of the remark that one Lowlander made to another after
listening to a very celebrated London preacher: 'Aye, it was beautiful,
and he cud mak' ye see things too, whiles; but, man! there was nae
_logic_ in 't.'

It was about this time that we heard of the sinking of the _Lusitania_.
Somehow from this moment we knew better where we were and for what we
fought. Every one's thoughts were very grim. This was sheer naked
wickedness done plainly and coldly in the sight of God and man.

III

'_You can hear them now_'

One broiling afternoon as I sat talking with a friend in my tent an
orderly came to the door and said to him, 'Message for you, sir.' He
glanced at it. It was his orders to join his battalion at the front. We
shook hands and he went off, glad to be on the move again after hanging
about waiting so long. In five minutes the orderly was back with orders
for me to proceed at once to the 2nd London Territorial Casualty
Clearing Station. I said good-bye to Adams, my servant. No man was ever
more fortunate in his batmen--Adams, a typical regular, fiercely proud
of his regiment; Campion, the London Territorial, a commercial traveller
in civil life; and Munro, the Royal Scot, who within a month or two of
the outbreak of war could no longer suppress the fighting spirit of the
Royal Regiment stirring within him, and voluntarily rejoined, leaving a
wife and six children behind him. He was a foreman in the Edinburgh
Tramways Company. Handy man that he was, he could turn his hand to
anything, whether it was devising a ferrule for a broken walking stick
out of the screw of a pickle bottle, or making a bleak-looking hut
habitable, or producing hot tea from nowhere, or transforming a
wet-canteen marquee into a decent place for Communion (empty tobacco
boxes for table, beer barrels discreetly out of sight), or building a
pulpit out of sandbags in the corner of a roofless saloon bar.

The supply train left at a very early hour, and by devious routes
reluctantly approached the railhead. The journey took thirty hours. It
was long enough to teach the lessons never to go on a military train in
France without something to read, or to drink rashly from an aluminium
cup containing hot liquid, or to rely on bully beef as a sole article of
diet. Towards evening the Irishman in charge of the train had pity and
took me along--we had stopped for the thirty-fifth time--to a