First of all they were kind to each other. Here is a tit-bit from a private soldier's letter: "One of our chaps got a letter from home to say that his wife had given birth to twins, and just at the time when he had cause to be proud of being a father twice over, a German bullet knocked him out. That was their way of adding to the congratulations that everybody showered on him. It was hard lines, and there was not one of us who would not rather have gone in his place." Another soldier told with much sympathy that his chum immediately after writing to his mother, "I have got through without a scratch so far" was killed by a bullet. "I could have cried," he said, "when I saw the letter." In letters from the front many cases are recorded of men who have lost their regiments, but who would not accept shelter or food from the French peasantry for fear of getting them into trouble with the Germans. We are told that the only thing that put our men out and made their faces sad was the instances they saw of German savagery to the civilian population. A man of the Army Service Corps wrote: "It was a pitiful sight to see the people fleeing from their homes carrying all they could save. Our soldiers were very kind to them, and gave them whatever they could spare--and sometimes more than that. I saw one young woman trying to reach some fruit from a tree which was a good way out of her reach. I went over and gave her some pears which had been given to me. She ate them rather hurriedly, but before doing so gave me a kiss on both cheeks." It was the tender hearts of the British soldiers, as well as their coolness and courage, that made the old women and little children take to them as they marched through France. "Cheer up, mother," one soldier shouted, and another covered a shivering old woman with his coat. A French woman's clothes had been taken by the Germans, so a Highlander tore his kilt and gave her part of it for a covering. The children took hold of the hands of the brave Allies, or tried to get a ride on their shoulders. A British sergeant went into a French farm house that had been shelled by the Germans. He found that all the family had been killed "except a little girl of about seven years, and she was just conscious. Both her legs had been blown away near the knees, and one of her arms was missing from below the elbow. The rain was coming down into the wreckage, and I took off my greatcoat and wrapped the poor, moaning child in it. I sat down on the floor to hold her on my knee, and she just opened her eyes and gave me a grateful look. Then she moved her sound arm, and the next thing I found she had lifted something to my head, and it slipped over my shoulders. Her arm dropped. She was dead. She had given me her rosary. I thought I had a heart of stone, but I cried like a child that night, and I wasn't the only one."