e longed with an intense longing for one more such Sunday
in the old home town. It seemed ages since we had been there; we
wondered whether we would ever visit the old scenes again, and we had
a premonition that we never would. The theme of the brief sermon was
the old, old story of Christ's coming to save sinners, and the guns
boomed and a belated aeroplane overhead buzzed homeward while the
speaker appealed earnestly to his hearers to serve Christ by following
his example in true living even as they were now, by offering their
lives, serving humanity.

_General Haig presents medals._

One summer evening, after the battle of Aubers Ridge a number of
junior officers and private soldiers, including Indians, began to
gather about the bandstand. As ten o'clock approached, motor after
motor drew up, numerous staff officers descended and formed themselves
into groups. There was much saluting and hand-shaking, the saluting
being done by the junior officers and men, and the hand-shaking taking
place among the seniors.

Although furniture was none too plentiful a table which was secured
somewhere, was placed about six paces in front of the grandstand
steps. A cloth was placed upon the table, and two officers began
spreading on it in orderly array various small boxes. A list was
produced, names were compared and carefully checked. The officers and
men who were to receive decorations were then paraded, and as the
roll was called each man took his place in order in the line. The list
was again checked over, and compared with the boxes on the table.

At 10.20 a big car drove up and a figure stepped out--a figure known
to the whole world--Sir Douglas Haig. Well groomed, handsome, quick of
his movement, he looked as he was, every inch a soldier. As he
approached the groups everyone stood to attention; the senior officer
gave the salute, and the General acknowledged it.

After a few words with the officers in charge, General Haig took his
place behind the table and made a short speech, after which the
soldiers were called up one by one while he pinned on their medals or
decorations. Each soldier saluted as stepped forward, and as he
stepped back to his place he saluted again in acknowledgment of the
remarks of the General.

There was no fuss, no feathers; the affair was typically British. Such
decorations as the Legion d'Honeur and Croix de Guerre, had to be
presented, and they were, after which everybody shook hands and went