e there, but there will be others in
our places. Do not weep, do not wear mourning, for we shall
have died with a sweet smile on our lips and a lovely
superhumanity in our hearts. Vive la France! Vive la France!

What wonderful enthusiasm! But still more beautiful is this prayer,
that of a little Protestant soldier from the Montbeliard country, who
died in the Gare d'Amberieu hospital:

"Lord, may Thy will and not mine be done. I have consecrated
myself to Thee since my youth, and I hope that the example I
have offered may serve to glorify Thee.

"Lord, Thou knowest that I have not desired war, but that I
have fought to do Thy will; I offer my life for peace.

"Lord, I pray Thee for the welfare of my people. Thou
knowest how greatly I love them all, my father, my mother,
my brothers and my sisters.

"Lord, return manyfold to these nurses the good they have
done me; I am but a poor man but Thou art the dispenser of
riches. I pray to Thee for them all."

This prayer, in which the little soldier had put his last living
thoughts, was received by a Catholic sister who had cared for him,
and sent by her to his sorrowing family--a touching proof of sacred
union.

All of them, Catholics, Protestants and Jews, speak of God and pray to
Him.... Read this letter from Captain Cornet-Acquier, that captain to
whom his wife wrote, "I would urge you on with my voice if I saw you
charging the enemy." He tells this little incident:

"A Catholic captain was saying the other day that he said
his prayers before each battle. The commanding officer
remarked that that was not the proper moment and that he
would do better to make his military arrangements.

"'Sir,' he replied, 'that does not prevent me from making my
military arrangements and from fighting. I feel better for
it.'

"Then I said:

"'Captain, I do the same thing you do. And I find I get
along pretty well.'"

This is the letter a young Catholic wrote the evening before a battle
to his fiancee:

MY DEAR JEANNE:

Tomorrow at ten o'clock, to the sounds of "Sidi Brahim" and
the "Marseillaise" we charge the German lines. The attack
will probably be deadly. On the eve of this great day, which
may be my last, I want to recall to you your promise....
Comfort my mother. For a week she will have no news. Tell
her that w