MORAL FLASHES
This chapter is plainly labeled so that anyone who chooses may escape
it.
A preacher without a preachment is a paradox. We do not fear the
paradox, much less the criticism of the over-religious. But we frankly
believe that the solution of the moral and spiritual problems of the
soldier, as the army attempted to solve them, gives a hint to the
churches which dare not be ignored.
The soldier was more truly religious "over there" than he was before
he "fared forth" on his great adventure. And the reason was not merely
in the fact that fear of death drives men nearer to God. That reason
has been present in every war. The history of all wars proves that war
engenders such hatred, recklessness, and immorality that fighters
have come out of the conflict more godless than when they entered. The
veterans of our own Civil War bear abundant testimony to the
debauchery of youth during the four long years of that struggle.
What is the story of the morality of the American army during the
struggle just ended? Already statistics have been compiled showing
that the percentage of disease resulting from immorality was so small
in comparison with the percentage even in civil life as to be almost
negligible. If we could compare the army life of the present with the
army life of the past, I am confident the contrast would be even more
startling.
Our army was a clean army--an army whose actions and modes of life
squared with the highest standards of moral and religious teachings.
That there were notable exceptions no one will deny.
Why were our soldiers in this bitter world conflict better and
stronger than the soldiers of previous wars? The answer I want you to
think about (there are other answers) is that the army and navy
officers, from President Wilson down, planned wisely and sanely to
meet the physical, mental, and moral needs of our boys both at home
and over seas. And the results achieved proved the wisdom of the
endeavor. _Had the plans been less comprehensive the results would
certainly have been far less gratifying._
My own experiences cause me to draw the same conclusions that many
others have drawn. "Over there" man stood out before his Maker, his
very soul uncovered, and prayed with a frankness he had never
expressed before. And God revealed himself. We may not understand the
psychology, nevertheless one soldier saw, or thought he saw, Christ in
a shell-hole stretching out his hands in forgiveness and blessing.
Another saw God the Father giving absolution as his straining eyes
caught a glimpse of the crucifix. Another felt "The Presence" as the
inward quietness which follows action crept over him. Whatever the
form, the effect was the same. Men met God face to face and lived.
A captain of infantry coming out of the Argonne fight on September 30,
said: "I have never been a professed Christian. I have always
considered the testimony of so-called Christians as the imagination of
religious fanatics. But I saw Christ up there, and I shall never scoff
again." A private standing near turned to me and said: "We all felt
the same way about it. It was mighty real to us."
Not many decades ago preachers used death as their most telling plea
for sinners to be converted. The tragic death of a "sinner" in a
community where evangelistic services were being held was always held
up as the special warning of God. The crude way in which this truth
was presented does not, however, disturb the fundamental fact that
death does have a sobering effect on human judgment and human will,
and that in the presence of death souls do more naturally seek after
and find God.
A private of Company I, 165th Infantry, was in Base Hospital No. 117
suffering from shell-shock. He said: "There were only seven of my
company left. We killed our share of the Huns before they got us, but
the slaughter was awful. To see all your comrades shot down around you
and then to lie helpless on the field--minutes seemed ages. And
decisions were registered in heaven which we can never get away from."
This boy had been gay and frivolous at home, with two automobiles at
his command and plenty of money to use as he wished. He had never been
forced to the serious consideration of the problems of his soul-life
until he squarely faced those problems on the field of carnage.
I was asked to speak at the Y.M.C.A. hut at Rebeval Barracks, where a
veterinary hospital occupies the same inclosure as Base Hospital No.
66. My audience was made up largely of East Side New Yorkers. The
secretary, Stuart, of Jamaica, said to me before the meeting: "Give
them the straight punch. You know how." He led the song service and
put plenty of "pep" in it. All the boys were singing who could. The
rest were "hollering" and thought they were singing. Even the French
soldiers and civilians who could not understand stood at the windows
interested spectators. The message was a straight-from-the-shoulder
presentation of the life of Jesus Christ and the claims of God upon
the lives of all men. Their keen and close interest showed their
respect and their spontaneous applause at the close was proof that the
message had at least registered. Now, no one is so foolish as to
believe that those "rough horsemen" went out from that meeting to give
up all their bad habits, but no one will dare deny that their
expression of approval and appreciation was an acknowledgment of
Christ himself and that they were for the time at least better men.
A meeting in a converted hay-loft in Brouville was suddenly announced
by the Y.M.C.A. secretary. The big stone building was used to billet
the soldiers. Their "bunks" filled almost every available foot of
space. In one corner a group were playing cards. In the middle of the
room a lank, angular figure was "coiled" about a mandolin, coaxing an
old hymn from its strings. Some were sleeping, others were chatting,
and a few were reading by the light of tallow candles. The secretary
announced the meeting. It was Sunday evening. Song books were
distributed. The mandolin player volunteered to "pitch the tune."
Three or four hymns suggested by the fellows were sung heartily. A
brief petition asked for forgiveness and blessings on the boys who
with undaunted courage would soon go into action. A few verses of
Scripture served to introduce the message of the hour. Quietly but
earnestly the practical side of a man's religion was presented. The
card game, which up to this time proceeded without disturbance, was
now voluntarily abandoned and the players' attention riveted on the
speaker. When it was over they quietly returned to their game, more
thoughtful, because they had themselves chosen to hear the truth.
The Y.M.C.A. hut at Reherrey was a mile and a half behind the line.
Briggs was the secretary. His fine, erect carriage and soldierly
bearing brought him many an unconscious salute from the buck private.
He was a Billy Sunday convert. "I have drunk enough rum to float a
battleship" was the way he told of his wild career. The boys at
Reherrey loved and respected him. His Bible class was the most
enthusiastic I saw in France. When he announced a Sunday evening
service the hut was filled. Candles served as chandelier and desk
lamp. With a sergeant who was a live wire at the piano and Briggs as
song leader, the singing of the fellows not only "raised the roof" but
it also raised the spirits of the men.
About half way through the talk a terrific explosion told us that
Fritz was getting busy. Quietly all candles were blown out. It was a
military order. Aside from this not a man stirred. The message went
right on, punctuated by the exploding shells. There was no fear but an
intense interest in the great call of God to the duty of the hour. At
the close the men pressed forward to grip the speaker's hand, and as
we walked out under the stars, a widow's only son acknowledged that he
had long been the victim of the drink curse and had broken his
mother's heart. "I have taken my last drink," he said; "I will
write to my mother, _but she cannot believe me_. Won't you write her
too and tell her that her son has given himself to the Lord Jesus
Christ?"
[Illustration: VARIETIES OF SHELLS AND BOMBS
(Photographed at Nancy)]
The most impressive thing to me about the religion of the soldiers was
its wholesomeness. "Over there" a man dared to be natural. The mask of
pretense was torn off. Men were not hypocrites in the face of death.
They were free; and that freedom showed itself in their religion as
well as in their pleasures. The soldier whom I met in the front line
trench with "_I need Thee every hour_" printed across the front of his
gas mask, was not considered a fanatic.
And when an American Bishop consented to share a Sunday night program
with Elsie Janis, the famous vaudeville actress, the great Bishop
became suddenly _greater_ in the estimation of Christian and
non-Christian alike, and the passionately expressive "Elsie" had a
new and wholesome interpretation put upon her fun and her jokes by the
magic which that combination wrought.
My plea is for that type of Christianity, so pure as to be above
reproach and question and so genuinely human as to enjoy the wit and
humor and even the frivolities of life, its Christliness lifting its
pleasures out of the mists of evil into which we have permitted the
devil to drag them, and placing them side by side with the more
serious considerations of our life work.
My observations teach me that the effort of the army to solve the
fundamental problem of the soldier's spiritual life met with a large
measure of success.
The army took millions of our boys from every walk of life. It sent
two and a quarter millions across the sea. It fed them an abundance of
plain but wholesome food. It gave them plenty of hard exercise to
convert that food into hard muscle. It demanded _attention_, so that a
keen mind directed a strong body. It provided the leisure hour with
huts where the touch of home suggested the writing of millions of home
letters which otherwise would never have been written. Concerts,
lectures, reading rooms with books and magazines and games of all
kinds were furnished to all--free. Even something _homemade_ to eat
and drink, in addition to the regular canteen supplies, which covered
practically every legitimate desire of the men, could be purchased at
reasonable cost.
Having done all this for his body and his mind, it took a broad view
of his spiritual needs, and carefully selected chaplains from the
various denominations and creeds and sent them with the boys as their
spiritual advisers. So splendidly was the choice of religious leaders
made that often on the battlefield a Protestant minister or a Jewish
rabbi would borrow a crucifix and bring the word of comfort to a dying
Catholic; or a priest would read the Bible or the Prayer Book to a
dying Jew or Protestant. On one occasion a woman canteen worker aided
a Jewish rabbi to give absolution to a Catholic boy in a Y.M.C.A. hut
when a priest could not be secured in time. In all this is there not
more than a hint for the Church of to-morrow?
These our boys, now men, have come back to become the great leaders of
our new civilization, and they will be intolerant of dogmatic
denominationalism, and well they may. The church that holds their
respect and commands their allegiance must have a world view of
Christianity and a Godlike love for the lives of all men. And the
theology of to-morrow must be as broad as the teachings of the Bible.
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