“Humanity lies wounded, bleeding and robbed on the road of life, and calls aloud, not for priest or Levite, but for the good Samaritan.”―Dr. C―
ONE OF OUR POSTCARDS AN IDENTIFICATION DISC
I have just received the following letter from a Lieutenant in the Yorks Regiment, B.E.F.: ―
“Dear Sir, ― I am enclosing one of your printed post-cards which one of my sergeants handed to me. While on working fatigue I told one or two men to bury as decently as could be some poor British soldiers killed during the Great Push, and this card was found on one to be the only means of identification. Private Gaul was buried decently and a cross with his name put over his grave. I leave it to your discretion as to informing his people (if you know them), as they may think he has been buried some time ago. — Yours faithfully, ―. P.S.―The man evidently wished for one of your books, so trust he was prepared for the great adventure.”
I have the card in my hand now, dirty and blood-stained, the card found on the dead body of a British soldier. He had filled in the card, Pte. A. A. Gaul, 9333, Lewis Gun Section, 1St Norfolk Regt. The opportunity did not come for him to post it, but the desire was in his heart to have the Word of God.
If any reader of this little book should know where he lived, and would send me the address, I will communicate with his friends.
The Last Day of the Old Year
“Ye’ll take your Bible, Duncan?”
“Yes, mother; it’s safe in my kit.”
“Ay, but, lad, I wish you would choose to follow the Lord, for then we should know you were ready for anything.”
“Don’t you worry, mother!” was the half-laughing response. “I know the Bible from A to Z.”
“You know it well enough with your head, Duncan,” answered Mrs. McIntyre, with tears in her eyes and a wistful look at the lad’s face. “But you want Christ in your heart as well.”
There was no time to say more, for the father and sisters, and the brother, who was a minister, gathered round to say farewell. A little later Duncan left Glasgow, with his unit, for the Front. He was the only member of his family who had not surrendered himself to the Lord Jesus Christ, and consequently many prayers followed him. Although he thought he knew the Bible from A to Z, although shells were flying and death busy all around him, Duncan resolutely closed his heart to the One who had often knocked at its door. Still those prayers were going up from his home in Glasgow, and the answer came at length, and not in ways that anyone would have guessed.
A shell, laden with high explosives, fell within two feet of the young soldier, and he was blown into the air without a moment’s warning. In his fall his back was severely injured, and he was carried to hospital for treatment. Later he was sent to a rest camp, and classed as unfit for active service. To that camp came one whom we will call Captain Thompson, and he was in search of a servant.
“Send McIntyre; he’s well enough now to act as orderly,” said one of the officers in command. Duncan soon mastered his new duties, and as he went in and out of Captain Thompson’s tent he noticed that a Bible always lay on the little table beside the camp bedstead, and sometimes he found his master in the act of reading it.
The Captain was evidently taking note of his man, for one night he handed to him a copy of a well-known Christian paper. “Have you ever seen it before?” he asked. “No, sir: though it is very much like one that we always have at home.” The officer asked one or two questions about that home, in such a way that Duncan willingly answered them; and his replies showed that his parents, and, indeed, all of his family, were truly Christian people.
“And what of yourself, McIntyre?” “Well, sir, I know the Bible from A to Z, but I haven’t got as far as my people have.” “It seems to me,” said Captain Thompson gently, “that God has spoken very plainly to you lately. Why don’t you settle with Him now?”
Duncan went away in silence. The morrow was the last day of the old year, and his face wore an anxious expression that the Captain noticed. “Have you thought over what we were speaking of last night?” he asked. “Yes, sir,” answered Duncan, nervously looking at the floor. “I couldn’t sleep for thinking of it; but I still believe that something must happen to me to make me turn to Christ.” “Whatever do you mean, man? Surely enough has happened to you already! Haven’t the prayers of your family been going up to God for you for years? Didn’t that shell nearly send you, all unprepared as you were, into eternity? Isn’t it God Himself who has sent you to a Christian officer who can help you, and is praying for you? Come, come, my lad, give in to the Saviour tonight! Think what a happy New Year your mother would have if her prayers for you were answered.”
The eves of the young Scot softened and grew suspiciously moist. “My!” he murmured, “‘twould indeed be a happy New Year to her!”
“Then go, and yield to the Lord now, lad.” Duncan saluted and went away to his tent. There he knelt and weighed the matter before God: the cost of decision, the sin of refusal, and once again Christ conquered, and the Lord Jesus became his Saviour and his Lord. He sent the news to the home in Glasgow, where every heart rejoiced. And a little later the blessing of renewed health was added to Duncan, who was passed by the doctor for active service, and thus enabled to join his battery once more.
E. M. R.
A Striking Leaflet
Miss Leakey, one of our greatest helpers, who has contributed month by month to the pages of this Magazine for many years, has issued a most important leaflet, which has, been printed and reprinted, and has been read in the trenches and fastened against the walls of dug-outs, and which has been much used of God. It is reproduced here: ―
Soldiers, Face the Truth!
DYING for your COUNTRY in
BATTLE will NOT save your
soul; but LOOKING unto the
LORD JESUS CHRIST WILL
save your soul.