cident, for though the Commanding
Officer was popular with his men, to have him called down at his own
mess by one of his own officers was an event too thrilling to give
anything but unalloyed delight to those who had to suffer in silence
similar indignities at the hands of their officers.

A notable exception in the battalion, however, was Sergeant Major
McFetteridge, who, because of his military experience, and of his
reputation as a disciplinarian, had been recently transferred to the
battalion. To the sergeant major this act of Barry's was but another and
more flagrant example of his fondness for "buttin' in," and the sergeant
major let it be known that he strongly condemned the chaplain for what
he declared was an unheard of breach of military discipline.

Of course there were others who openly approved, and who admired the
chaplain's "nerve in standing up to the old man." In their opinion he
was entirely justified in what he had said. The O. C. had insulted him,
and every officer at the mess, by his off-colour story, but on the whole
the general result of the incident was that Barry's life became more and
more one of isolation from both officers and men. For this reason and
because of a haunting sense of failure the months of training preceding
the battalion's departure for England were for Barry one long and almost
uninterrupted misery. It seemed impossible to establish any point of
contact with either the officers or the men. In their athletics, in
their social gatherings, in their reading, he was quietly ignored and
made to feel that he was in no way necessary. An impalpable but very
real barrier prevented his near approach to those whom he was so eager
to serve.

This unexpressed opposition was quickened into active hostility by the
chaplain's uncompromising attitude on the liquor question. By the army
regulations, the battalion canteen was dry, but in spite of this
many, both of the officers and the men, freely indulged in the use
of intoxicating drink. The effect upon discipline was, of course,
deplorable, and in his public addresses as well as private conversation,
Barry constantly denounced these demoralising habits, winning thereby
the violent dislike of those especially affected, and the latent
hostility of the majority of the men who agreed with the sergeant major
in resenting the chaplain's "buttin' in."

It was, therefore, with unspeakable joy that Barry learned that the
battalion was warned for o