AN Army Chaplain tells the story of one dying lad. “I had a very pathetic experience the other afternoon. I was visiting the hospital, and when I entered one of the wards I came across a lad who was quite delirious. He had been wounded in the head. I passed from bed to bed, and spoke to every patient, and was about to leave the ward when I saw this lad beckoning me. I immediately went over to him, and asked him if there was anything I could do for him. He told me he wanted a drink, so I went to fetch him one. When I came back I found that his mind was wandering, and this is what I heard him say: ―
“‘God never forgets us. Although we are lying here sick and suffering, He is still watching over us, and Jesus Himself seems to come round and He says, “Is there anything you want, lad? Can I do anything for you?” ‘Then he became conscious again, and said: ‘Are you still there, sir?’ ‘Yes, lad.’ ‘I do hope my mother is not worrying about me, sir. I do wish she was here, for I want her so badly.’ Just as I laid my hand on his brow his mind went again. ‘Is that you, mater? I have been wanting you so badly.’ Then he commenced to sing softly, ‘There’s a Friend for little children.’ Once more his eyes opened, and the old question was asked, ‘Are you still there, sir?’ ‘Yes, lad.’ ‘Do you think my mother would come if you sent for her, sir? ‘Of course she would, lad,’ I replied. ‘Then, will you bring her, sir?’
“I told him that if he would promise to go to sleep I would do what I could to bring her. He closed his eyes and turned his head over on the pillow, and said, ‘Good night, daddy! Good night, mater!’ As I turned from the bed the sister said, ‘Poor boy!’ and I found I had a large lump in my throat. The next day he died. And so the tragedy of war goes on. This morning it was heart-breaking to see the grief of a man and his wife grieving at the graveside over the body of their son―their only child.”