ONE night during the War, I had seen all the family into bed and
returned downstairs to put things right for the morning, and to pack
the food for the workers. It was well on into the night as I sat at
the table cutting the food. The lobby door seemed to open and my
soldier boy stood there and said “Mother” in such a sad voice, then
vanished. I could see him so plainly and he looked so sad that I felt
upset and went to bed, but not to sleep. I felt he was in trouble. I
came to know in a short time that he was that night lying out on the
battle-field at Passchendaele seriously wounded. He received a M.M.
We have the Testament that saved his life; it is shot through, but
there happened to be a steel looking glass at the back, and this
stopped the bullet.