The Army bade farewell to the body of the great field-marshal at St. Omer, then the headquarters of the British Expeditionary Force. The route to the Mairie was lined by British and French troops. The coffin, draped with the Union Jack, was placed upon the gun-carriage by eight non-commissioned officers selected from regiments of which he had been colonel. All the British and French courage was represented in the procession. The Prince of Wales represented the King. The Indian chiefs who honoured and loved him were there. At the service in the Mairie which followed, the Rev. F.I. Anderson, assisted by the Rev. C. Marshall and the Rev. A. Helps, officiated. The service, as was fitting, was very simple. The music was led by a choir of soldiers, accompanied by a harmonium, and the hymns sung were "Now the labourer's task is o'er," and "O God, our help in ages past." At the conclusion of the service, British bugles sounded the "Last Post." Then the body was reverently borne down the steps and placed in the motor ambulance which was to convey it to Boulogne. As this was done the guard of honour once more sprang to the present, French trumpeters blew a fanfare, and the guns of Lord Roberts' old regiment thundered a salute. Thus the British Army said farewell to its old chief, and will remember him for ever as a great soldier and a great Christian. In the fighting round Ypres fell that distinguished British officer, General Hamilton. The record of his funeral will show a great contrast to that of Lord Roberts, but it gives us a weird and pathetic picture of the circumstances under which our chaplains do their work. While standing on a hillock near the village of La Couteau in the midst of his staff, the commander of our Third Division was struck by a fragment of shrapnel and killed. They buried him "at dead of night," and the whole scene recalls the famous lines on the burial of Sir John Moore. It was a sad and silent party of distinguished French and British officers which followed the coffin up the winding path to the little churchyard, where the grave had been hastily dug, near the shell-battered church. The only light was that of the electric flash lamp used by the Rev. E.G.F. Macpherson (the senior Church of England chaplain) to enable him to read the burial service. [Illustration: BRITISH TRENCHES IN THE AISNE DISTRICT. _Drawn by D. Macpherson._] He had scarcely begun to speak its solemn words when the Germans opened a perfect hurricane of fire. But the chaplain never altered the measured dignity of his intonation, though shells were bursting all around and the enemy's bullets were pattering against what remained of the church walls.