“Well, Dent, I’m so glad to see you out again. I thought once you were ‘going west.’ ”
The two soldiers had met in the hospital grounds. Dent, a man with tired, worn face and wearing hospital blue, sat resting under the trees. His eyes were bright and hopeful enough in spite of all he had evidently endured. He replied heartily to his friend’s greeting with, “No, old boy, I’m getting on fine, but I would not have ‘gone west’ anyhow.”
“Well, you know what I mean—‘pass on,’ ‘go under,’ ‘peg out’—don’t you know?”
The man in blue smiled quietly.
“Yes, I do know what you mean, and I’d like to explain what I mean. Can you sit down a bit? My leg is still a bit shaky.”
The other soldier sat down by his side and replied: “Go to it, Dent. I’ve wanted to hear how you got out of that scrape. A lot of the fellows didn’t make it, I hear.”
“Well, we had just made a grand rush to reach the top of the hill, and the worst was over before I was hit. I ran on for a bit before I fell. I must have lain there a long time, for it was dark when I came to myself and my pants were saturated with blood. A burning pain soon aroused me entirely.
“It was weird, I can tell you, waking up like that. It hurt too much to move, and I lay still till a shell burst and lit up the area for an instant. I spied the outline of a shell hole, and tried to crawl to a bit of shelter.
“I had got about halfway when I came to one of our company. At first I thought he was done for, but I slipped my hand into his jacket and found his heart was beating, so I dragged and rolled and pulled him along with me towards a fairly decent mound of earth. For a little while I just lay there beside him, wondering who my buddy was.
“Another light flashed in the sky, and I got a good look at his face. Yes, I knew him. He was a fellow from our platoon named Gilbert. There was a touch of the saint perhaps about him, but he was a good sport for all that.
“He was too good a man to lose, and I tried to bring him round, but it was not easy there in the dark with my leg throbbing at every movement. I had some water left, and I got a few drops down his throat and laid close to get some warmth into him.
“At last he began to rouse, and I told him who I was. I said all the cheery things I could think of, such as ‘cheer up,’ and ‘keep smiling,’ but he did not rally. At last I said: ‘Gil, old man, I’m afraid you are “going west.” Have you any messages?’
“Gilbert roused then. ‘No, I am going east; not to the night, but to the dawn.’
“I thought he was wandering, so I tried again. ‘Chum, you are pretty badly hurt; I’m afraid you are—’ and I stopped because I hesitated to say he was dying. He held my hand tight then, and said: ‘Yes, I know, but it is to the day I’m going. Christ has opened the kingdom of heaven for me. I know that, and I am so glad.’
“That was too much for me! I knew I was in deadly danger. At any moment a shot might find us and finish us off. At such a time a man is pretty honest with himself. I was not very religious, but I had done a bit of thinking. I had put up a bit of a prayer when we went out, but I was not ready like Gil.
“It came over me all of a sudden—what was the difference between ‘going west’ and ‘going east’? Here was a man who could tell me, if he only held out long enough. I put my lips to his ear and whispered: ‘Gil, can you tell me how I can “go east” too?’
“That roused him! He seemed to come right back, and spoke strongly as he gripped my hand. ‘Old man, the way is straight before you; it is Christ Himself.’
“ ‘Yes, but Gil! You know I’ve forgotten Him all these years.’ As I said this I felt how far I was from the Way he spoke of. Gil lay still for a bit, then whispered: ‘There’s the cross, you know, and the Man who died on it! You remember the old Sunday school song:
‘He died that we might be forgiven,
He died to make us good;
That we might go at last to heaven,
Saved by His precious blood.’
“Yes, I remembered it well. But after all, it was only a hymn. Could I rest my soul on that? I tried again: ‘But Gil, is that the truth? Is that all?’
“Again he whispered, ‘Yes, chum, it’s true. Listen to this: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. That’s you and me. Who His own self bare our sins in His own body on the tree. That’s yours and mine. Christ also hath suffered for sins, the Just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God. Don’t you see that is turning us to the dawn—to the day?’
“It was too easy, I thought. I must know more.
“ ‘Yes, Gil, but what am I going to do to get all that? What is the connecting link?’
“ ‘Do! Why, nothing! It’s all done by Him at Calvary. Ask Him to take you as you are; He will do all the rest.’
“I thought it over as best I could. There must be something for me to do, something to bring as a kind of atonement for the past. But after all, Gilbert knew best, and there was no other way I could see. I let myself go and prayed the only words which came to my mind: God, be merciful to me a sinner.
“Then Gilbert’s voice, very faint, came once more: ‘The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin.’
“It was just as if God Himself had spoken. He seemed very near to us then. I trembled as I lay, but the burden had gone and I thanked Him from my heart. Whatever came now I was safe. I did not understand, but I knew whom I had believed. That was even better than understanding. I felt Gilbert’s hand tighten as he whispered, ‘Thank God!’ He did not speak again.
“Now do you see why I never say I am ‘going west’? God has turned me from darkness to light, and has given me the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”