"Now, again, we are in the trenches. It is Sunday morning, my thoughts are of all in the Homeland, and more so about Him Who died for us, and as I think of it all out comes my Bible, and those who are near join in listening to a passage of Scripture; then a few words of prayer, then a chorus or two that we all know. We sing as heartily as if we were at home in our churches. Then over comes 'Jack Johnson.' For a time all is silent, excepting that lips are moving in fervent prayer--not through fear, but with thankfulness and praise. Glory! Glory! "Another time we are in a different part of the country, and called upon to go into the attack. As we go, not seeing any danger, suddenly over us bursts a shrapnel and shells of the 'Jack Johnson' type, ploughing up the ground, and comrades fall. Some are killed outright; others are severely wounded. I rush here and there to assist with a handshake or a 'God bless you.' I pass on to lead those left, and then right into the thickest of the fray with heavy rifle and machine-gun fire. But nothing daunts the British soldier, and on we press until at last the enemy turns and runs in fear. Then we thank God for all His goodness in protecting and sparing us, and on we go, administering to the wounded and those whose life is fast ebbing away, and in a few words get the assurance that they hear the Saviour's welcome voice. I have felt Him so near at such times as these. Tears of joy and gladness--maybe of sorrow--well from the eyes. Jehovah is present, and after the busy day is done and the shades of night are falling, I again pursue my duties, collecting here and there a few men to establish a firing line and join up the gap between our regiment and those on the right. We start to work to dig ourselves in. When all is complete, we kneel reverently with a heart full of praise and thanks for being enabled to accomplish a little more for King and country, and, above all, to do something for others by grace and strength from on high. "One day we had just finished trenching in a wood; it was Sunday afternoon. All was complete. I had been reading to four others in my 'dug-out,' and prayed. We were holding a short service. I had just finished speaking, and we were heartily singing that beautiful hymn, 'All hail the power of Jesu's Name,' and had got through the third verse, when we were suddenly called to man our rifles, as the sentry had seen the enemy approaching and given us the warning. Over us scream harmlessly the big shells; some fall in front, some behind. Over comes the shrapnel and bursts over us; then the spurt of rifle-fire begins. But the beauty of it is we are not troubled with fear at all--who could be in the presence of the Master?--but go on singing the chorus 'Crown Him' right on to the finish, although the enemy is only 150 or 200 yards away."