WITH THE GRAND FLEET
Always "Ready, Aye Ready"--The Deciding Factor--One Hundred
and Fifty Chaplains--On the "Bulwark"--"The Church Pennant"
Postponed--Sunday on a Battleship--The Sailor and the Thought
of Death--Stories from the Fleet--From a Torpedo-boat--The
Shore Chaplain's Opportunity--Christian Bravery--"Save
Yourself; I'll let go."
Everybody is asking, Where is the Grand Fleet? And that is just what
the Germans would like to know. It has a marvellous facility for
appearing and disappearing. Occasionally we receive letters bearing
the address, "In the North Sea or elsewhere," and sometimes we think
it is more elsewhere than there. No postmark gives its location away,
no newspaper paragraph lets us into the secret. And then suddenly it
appears:
Out of the everywhere into the here,
and the Germans find to their dismay a part of it off the Dogger Bank,
and the sleepy Turk wakes up to find another part in the Dardanelles.
It is like one of the mysterious powers of nature--unseen, but ever
exercising a powerful influence. Its existence is always felt--felt by
our foes with ever-increasing pressure, and felt by us with influences
always beneficial.
It sleeps not and rests not. It is always "ready, aye ready." From
Admiral Sir John Jellicoe to the grimiest stoker, it is one in purpose
and in action. And because it is _there_, we sleep well in our beds at
night, and there are few of us, as we lie down to rest, but breathe a
prayer for those who seem never to rest--
"God bless our sons upon the sea."
We have always been proud of our fleet, but never so proud as to-day.
It expresses the genius of our nation. Our way has always been "in
great waters." We talk of ourselves as "safe circled by the silver
sea," but the sea would not save us without our fleet.
When the war broke out, we found ourselves asking, "How will it be
with us now?" With forty million mouths to feed and only six weeks'
supply of food in the country, how will it be with us now?
Our fleet has solved that problem, and food has poured into the
country in plenty and everyone has been fed. It has been in every sea,
chasing our enemies off the ocean, protecting trade routes, convoying
troop-ships, and at the same time bottling up our enemies in their
harbours.
Never was such a herculean task undertaken and never so well
performed. Battleships and cruisers, torpedo boats, and submarines,
all in their turn have done their work, and done it well. They are
waiting they tell us for "the day" of which the enemy boasted so much,
and when the day dawns they will be there.
We realise that our fleet will be the deciding fact in this war. Our
soldiers have done splendidly and will continue so to do, but without
our ships they would be helpless, and if once we lose command of the
sea, the glory of our country will pass away. But we have no doubts
and no fears. They are _there_--and _here_--_everywhere_.
The nation's gratitude has been shown in many ways during the war.
Busy hands have worked for it, and numberless prayers have risen to
God's throne on its behalf. As an instance of what has been done, I
quote the figures of "comforts" sent from _one_ girls' school to _one_
ship--the _Ajax_. The school is the Girls' Grammar School, Bury, whose
headmistress is Miss J.P. Kitchener (a relative of Lord Kitchener).
Wristlets, 137; mufflers, 118; body bands, 120; socks and stockings,
35; sea boot stockings, 16; mittens, 142; jersey, 1; books and
magazines, 500. Of course all the articles, except the books, have
been made by the girls. In addition to these they have sent 1673
articles to the soldiers. I wonder if this is a record for such an
institution? This, however, is only a specimen of what has been done.
Somewhere with that mysterious fleet are a hundred and fifty
chaplains. No Free Church chaplains are afloat. It would be difficult
to carry more than one chaplain on a ship, and, of course, many of the
ships of war carry no chaplain at all. Where there is no chaplain the
commanding officer conducts the ship's service. Nonconformists at sea
have to lose for the time the ministry of their several churches, but
when in port landing parties redress this inequality. Some ships,
especially those belonging to Devonport, have a strong Nonconformist
element in their crews.
The naval chaplain as a rule is an entirely different type of man from
his brother in the Army. He is monarch of all he surveys. He has to
face no competition in his work. He partakes of the freedom of the
sea. For the most part he is a right down good fellow, but, so far as
I can judge, he has not the type of spirituality of which we see so
much in the Army. He is all sorts of things rolled into
one--sea-lawyer, letter-writer, story-teller, lecturer, schoolmaster,
game-director, and a host of other things beside. He must be
absolutely sincere if he is to be any good at all, for he never gets
away from the busy life of the ship, and he of all men "cannot be
hid." Often he is the friend and counsellor of the men, sharing their
joys and sorrows. He is the go-between for officers and men, and if he
be efficient--and an inefficient man could hardly remain long on
board--he makes himself indispensable.
Of course he shares all the dangers of the ship, and to-day if a ship
be beaten it is also sunk. Never were the dangers of the sea so great.
Dangers _on_ the sea, _under_ the sea, _over_ the sea, crowd around.
He never knows when or how suddenly the end may come, and it behoves
him to be ready, and brave. We are told that, when the three cruisers
were torpedoed in the North Sea, the Rev. E.G. Uphill Robson, chaplain
of the _Aboukir_, went down cheering the men he loved so well. The
Rev. A.H.J. Pitts, the chaplain of the _Good Hope_, died bravely with
Sir Christopher Cradock. A petty officer who knew him in another ship
says, "With him compulsory church was quite unnecessary. Nobody in the
ship would be absent from the service if he could possibly manage to
get there."
One of the most terrible catastrophes of the war was the blowing up of
the _Bulwark_ in Sheerness Harbour. The Rev. G.H. Hewetson, the
chaplain, was on board and perished with the rest. He had only been
married a few months.
"Only the other week," wrote a correspondent of the _Church Family
Newspaper_, "I met a stoker, who told me he, Mr. Hewetson, held
meetings for men every evening in his cabin, and he was constantly at
their elbow when spells from duty would permit, guiding them in 'the
things that matter.' It was also my privilege to know him as chaplain
to the Royal Naval Barracks, Portsmouth, during his stay of nearly
three years, which terminated with his taking up duties on the
_Bulwark_ at the outbreak of war. He was a man of God, also a
sportsman of the highest tone, being an expert fencer, a runner-up in
the Army and Navy championships at Olympia two seasons ago. He was a
man of some literary ability, for which the Chaplain of the Fleet made
him editor of the _Church Pennant_, _i.e._ the Church magazine of the
Navy. Mr. Hewetson was an earnest believer in individual methods, and
invariably worked sixteen hours a day, visiting all recruits,
detention quarters, sick bay, and held no fewer than five services on
Sundays."
I suppose we include our chaplains when we pray for those who "go down
to the sea in ships"; but surely these men who are there, not to
fight, but to preach and pray, claim a special interest in our
prayers.
Prayers are read every morning on every large war-ship, and this is,
of course, the chaplain's duty, if one is carried in the ship. The
life and work of the day depends very largely on how this is done.
On Sunday there is a sermon--just a quiet, homely talk from heart to
heart, and in these days we may well believe that men are thrilled by
the message as never before. Of course, during the winter storms
morning prayers on deck or Sunday parades are impossible, for many a
great green sea will break over the decks even of a super-Dreadnought.
At these times service is held below and men attend in relays. On some
of the super-Dreadnoughts there are little churches. The _Queen Mary_,
for instance, has one.
I have asked a few representative chaplains to tell me something of
the spiritual work on board their ships.
The Rev. C.W. Lydall, chaplain of the _Lion_, which took part in the
North Sea battle, says: "I can only tell you that in this ship our
religious motto has been 'business as usual.' I mean the war routine
has interfered as little as possible with our services, which have
been attended well. There has been a decided increase in the number of
communicants, and in many small ways the men have shown a fuller
consciousness of their dependence upon God."
The Rev. Arthur C. Moreton, chaplain of the _Invincible_, which was
engaged in the battle off the Falkland Islands, writes: "The usual
services are held when practicable, and on Sunday and Wednesday nights
I have a prayer meeting with Bible-reading in my cabin."
The Rev. M.T. Hainsselin, chaplain of the _Ajax_, writes: "The war has
made little or no difference to my routine of church work on this
ship. The only service I have added has been a second celebration of
Holy Communion in addition to the usual 7.40 A.M. one, to enable men
to come who could not be present earlier; and the opportunity has been
much valued. The other services of Morning and Evening Prayer are
continued as usual.
"As you probably know, sailors do not as a general rule care much
about the Parade Service at 10.30 A.M., but I think I may truly say
that since the outbreak of the war they have come far more to realise
it as an act of worship due from them, and it has become a deep
reality instead of--as it was to many--a formality.
"In the men's letters which I have had to censor, I have noticed a
very strong current of devout religious sentiment, hitherto
unsuspected, which encouraged me to think that one's ordinary teaching
is not so much wasted effort, as one is sometimes faithless enough to
think it is."
How heavy the veil of secrecy hanging over the fleet really is, will
be seen from the fact that only one copy of the _Church Pennant_,
which lost its editor in the _Bulwark_, was issued between the
outbreak of war and Easter, and that in February last. The _Church
Pennant_ is the organ of the Naval Church Society, and records the
Christian work on board H.M. ships. Several reports of Christian work
are given in this solitary issue, but the names of the ships are only
indicated by initials.
One report states that the place ordinarily used for celebrations and
evening service had to be given up to the doctors, but that Holy
Communion has been celebrated in the chaplain's cabin every Sunday. On
Christmas Day there were two communions and the number of communicants
was thirty-four. "The men in general are pleased to read religious
papers, and readily accept prayer cards."
Another report says: "On board this ship we were able, in spite of now
and then roughish weather, to keep up our regular daily prayers and
Sunday services. On Sundays we had stand-up church and two hymns from
the hymn cards, and all the responses of Matins with one lesson and
one of the Canticles sung. We had the harmonium to sing to. These
services were brief, but very heartily joined in. After stand-up
Matins we were able always to have our celebration in the captain's
cabin--there being no other place in the ship available. The
attendance was very good and showed that the old prejudice against
coming so far aft is at any rate moribund. Sometimes the weather made
it a little difficult both for the priest and worshippers, but we soon
got used to the necessary balancing.... Everyone throughout the ship
was merry and bright; we only regretted not having a chance of meeting
an opposite number of the enemy."
A third report is as follows:
"First of all, nightly Evensong has been held by the chaplain ever
since the war broke out. On account of the smallness of our numbers,
we meet in the chaplain's cabin, and there the service is performed.
Every Sunday morning, at 7 o'clock, we have a celebration of the Holy
Communion; and on the second Sunday in the month this service is
repeated after morning service. Our flotilla forms rather a large
parish for the chaplain, and to supply its wants we have a service
specially arranged whenever it is convenient. After our usual 7 A.M.
service, we sometimes proceed on board another ship, and have a
celebration, to which all communicants from the other vessels in our
company are invited by signal.
"The place allotted to us in each instance is the captain's forecabin,
which in this ship is as suitable a place as service conditions will
allow. On Sunday evenings we have Evensong at 8.30, followed by
hymn-singing, and occasionally we get a good attendance. But this,
like other services, suffers for want of good space, which is not
always easy to find on board ship....
"Conditions on board ship render any efforts with regard to church
work very difficult, and this is most marked during these trying
times. No doubt many more would join in our united devotions did their
duty allow. But we may well be content to go ahead and do the best we
can, even if it should be rather disheartening at times. And it will
be acknowledged that there has been at least some effort made to
continue our duty towards the Church of which we are so proud to
consider ourselves loyal members. Our daily evening service closes
with a prayer, in which all are remembered, and this is a means by
which all may help. We feel and know that those who are on shore are
doing the same, and praying for guidance and protection for us from
Him Who is above all this turmoil and strife, and Who alone is able to
preserve us from peril."
Here is yet one more report:
"Owing to the outbreak of the war the Temperance and Bible classes in
this ship have been discontinued, but the Daily Prayer Meeting has
been kept going in almost unbroken line.
"The voluntary services on Sunday evenings have been well attended,
also the weekly celebration of the Holy Communion is very
encouraging."
Putting the chaplains' letters and these various reports to the
_Church Pennant_ together, it is evident that the "business" of the
Church has been, so far as possible, carried on "as usual," and that
from a Church of England point of view it has been satisfactory.
It does not, however, satisfy us. We want to get into the men's hearts
and minds and find out what they are feeling and thinking in these
strenuous times. Does the thought of death affect them? Have the
things of eternity become more real? Are they conscious of sin within,
and of their need of a Saviour? Light-hearted and merry as ever, have
they the joy of the Lord?
All around them are terrible armaments. We are told that the 15-inch
guns of the new _Queen Elizabeth_ can send a shell weighing a ton for
a distance of more than twenty miles. The destruction which can be
wrought by one of these shells can be imagined when we read of the
havoc wrought by one such shell in one of the great forts of Antwerp.
It was not, of course, from a man-of-war, but its destructive force
would be the same. Says Sir Cecil Hertslet, our late Consul-General at
Antwerp:
"Another of these great shells, weighing nearly a ton, fired from a
distance of about ten miles, rising three miles into the air, fell
upon the cupola of another of the great outer forts of Antwerp. It
went through the concrete roof of the fort, passed through the great
hall where the garrison of the fort was assembled; it went down to the
floor and lower still, and at last exploded, and with the explosion
swept away everything--forts, guns, garrison, disappearing."
Are they conscious that they have such terrible engines of destruction
on board which on occasion they will use? Does the thought of it ever
appal them? Do they think that all around them are mines strewing the
North Sea, and that submarines are lurking here and there waiting to
launch the terrible torpedo? Do these thoughts ever come to a Jack
Tar, and how do they affect him?
[Illustration: _Photo Credit, Southsea._
A VOLUNTARY SERVICE ON A BATTLESHIP.
The church is "rigged" on the leeward side of a pair of 13.5
guns. A most impressive service.]
To the real Christian death has, of course, no terror. He swings
himself into his hammock at night, knowing that to him sudden death
will be sudden glory. But to the ordinary man-of-war's man has there
come an accession of seriousness, such as has come to the men in the
sister service?
We can as yet only answer this question in part, and must wait for a
full answer until the veil of secrecy is lifted.
And in order to get as full an answer as is possible we must turn to
the men themselves, and as we do so, we offer for all of them the
beautiful prayer which the Archbishop of Canterbury has put into our
lips:
"O Thou that slumberest not nor sleepest, protect, we pray Thee, our
sailors from the hidden perils of the sea, from the snares and
assaults of the enemy. Steady and support those upon whom the burdens
of responsibility lie heavily, and grant that in dangers often, in
watchings often, in weariness often, they may serve Thee with a quiet
mind, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."
We must remember that just as every regiment in our Army is to-day
leavened by Christian men, so is practically every ship in our fleet.
The work of our sailors' homes has been successfully done,--such
Homes, for instance, as those of Miss Agnes Weston, and the Homes of
the Wesleyan Church at Chatham, Portsmouth, and Devonport.
The previous work of the Sunday-schools and of the Salvation Army has
also told, and the men have, many of them, become out-and-out
Christians.
_They_ have no difficulty in speaking:
What they have felt and seen
With confidence they tell.
And theirs is indeed a fascinating story. They have a way of making
their presence felt. They cannot keep to themselves the love that has
been shed abroad in their hearts, and so they gather their comrades
round them, and have "good times" together, while God's blessing rests
upon their work. Sometimes they meet in the chaplain's cabin,
sometimes elsewhere, but night by night they meet, and in their own
way worship God.
Let us listen to a few of their stories. They are most of them
Methodists or Salvationists, so we will turn to the Rev. J.H.
Bateson's reports in the _Methodist Recorder_ or _Methodist Times_,
and to the _War Cry_.
Mr. Bateson says:
"It is little that we know of our battleships in the North Sea. We
know that they are there, because the havoc of war is kept away from
our island home. The men, all Nelson's men, are doing their duty. A
letter from one of them will be read with interest:
"'I must tell you we had a grand meeting last Sunday. We had thirty
present. More would have been there only we were rolling and pitching
heavily in a full gale, which lasted five days--the worst I have
experienced for many a year. Can you just try to picture us trying to
keep our feet and clutching at the piano (oh yes, we have one on
board), occasionally. We started off with, "All hail the power of
Jesu's Name," had prayer from our Blue Books, reading from Isaiah
xlii. 1-7, and a talk on the same, then "Rock of Ages," prayers,
"Nearer, my God, to Thee," Benediction, and Doxology. You should have
heard us sing! I'm afraid some of the home praise and prayer meetings
would be envious! This was our first attempt. I expect ere long we
shall have to have the meeting on the upper deck, for the numbers
will be too many for our enclosed reading-room. However, we intend to
keep the flag flying. 'Tis little we feel able to do, but we will do
our little best. It may, and should, have good results.'"
Here is the account of another service sent home by an engine-room
artificer on one of H.M. battleships.
"It is Sunday evening, the time about 7.30, when upwards of seventy
men may be seen sitting about the deck, under the fo'castle of one of
His Majesty's cruisers. Outside all is dark, one watch of men are
standing by the guns, trying to penetrate the darkness, in case of the
approach of the enemy. A watch of stokers and engineers is below,
humping the ship along. Another is resting, waiting for the time for
their next trick to come round. What do we see in the gathering of men
under the fo'castle? They have Sankey's hymn-books, kindly presented
by Miss Weston. In one corner is an harmonium, assisted by a couple of
violins. These supply the music. Presently a voice cries out, 'What
hymn will you have, men?' and the chorus of replies makes it difficult
to select one. This goes on for a while. Then all heads are bowed
whilst prayer is made. Our quartette party renders a few pieces, after
which ---- gives the address, and right fine it is. He has some
splendid topics, and, being a worthy Methodist local preacher, he is
listened to with rapt attention. Another suitable hymn, and the
benediction brings the service to a close. The roughness and
simplicity of the service would cause some people surprise. Yet the
shots get home. To hear the men sing is a treat not easily forgotten.
The writer was much impressed by the singing of the hymn, 'Some one
will enter the pearly gates by and by,' one side taking the question
and the other the answer. Once during the week about eight gather in a
cabin for Bible study and to talk of the things of God."
What a picture these letters present of Christian life upon a
battleship! We could multiply them indefinitely, but must condense
instead.
One young Christian sailor on a battleship tells of a Bible-class and
prayer-meeting, held every Thursday, conducted by a naval lieutenant.
Another tells of a Methodist class meeting on board conducted _twice_
weekly. A third sends home the minutes of a meeting held by several of
the men, at which it was resolved to hold a meeting every evening to
be devoted to Bible study, except on Saturdays, when the hour would be
spent in prayer. The Bible study, it was resolved, should begin with
the Epistle to the Romans. We wonder if these sailor lads found any
difficulty in that difficult Epistle. It was further resolved that
every Sunday evening a Gospel meeting should be held, and that every
Christian brother should be expected to take part. And, finally, the
men's correspondent asks that Christian people at home will pray that
he and his comrades may witness a good confession, and that they may
tell forth "God's wonderful story of Christ's redeeming love."
A naval officer who is a Wesleyan local preacher says: "We are still
going on well--class meetings in the cabin and meetings on the Sunday
night. Wouldn't it be fine to have all the Service local preachers you
could get for a service in the Central Hall after the war and the
platform full of Methodist sailors and soldiers?"
Here is a touching little letter from a torpedo boat. It is full of a
simple trust in Christ, and pulsates with sweetest fellowship in Him.
"The winter has been rather a trying one for us in this tiny little
craft, but really I never knew the companionship of a present Saviour
so thoroughly as I have since hostilities began. It would seem almost
as if I were His only care, and that He made me a special study. The
wonder of it all is the more marked when I remember how poor has been
my service to Him, compared with all the great benefits with which He
daily loads me. In answering my prayers, in subduing the storms just
when they were at their worst, in giving me a thorough victory over my
usual weakness, and in a thousand other ways He makes me to lie down
in green pastures, satisfied and at rest, contrary to all the seeming
laws of warfare. These things I tell you, not from any conventional
compulsion, but because they really are so, and because I should be
thrice unworthy of His name if I forebore to tell out what great
things He has done."
I will quote one or two sentences, this time with reference to
Salvation Army work. A lance-corporal on board the _Centurion_ writes:
"The chaps on board H.M.S. _Centurion_ expect much from us
Salvationists these youthful days. There are five of us on this ship,
and we are not only engaged in cheering up each other, but we are
distributing as much cheer as possible. Our ship is called the
'Hallelujah Ship.'"
Another writes from the same ship: "We have had some glorious
soul-saving times."
A Salvation Army sailor has been given permission by the commander to
conduct meetings on the upper deck of the _Majestic_. He tells us that
he is the only Salvationist on board that ship, but that there are
fifty Christian men there, and that others are giving themselves to
Christ.
We hear of stokers coming up from the stoke-hole grimed with dirt, so
anxious to attend the services that they do not stop to wash, lest
they should miss the precious hour; of men praying in public who have
never prayed before; of heartfelt addresses delivered by men who had
no idea they could speak in public for their Master.
There is no need, however, to multiply instances. We may take it for
granted that, in most ships, there is a little band of out-and-out
Christian men eagerly longing for spiritual fellowship, and finding it
in services to which they invite their fellows, and in which they have
the joy of leading many of their comrades to Christ.
When a ship comes into port for a few hours there is the opportunity
for the shore chaplain. He holds services on board, distributes
"comforts," leaves behind him books and magazines, cheers the
Christian workers, and in his quiet way works wonders. And when the
men are permitted to come on shore what a welcome they receive at the
various Sailors' Homes, and hearts are gladdened and resolutions
strengthened, for the return to sea. The work at sea must be trying in
the extreme--the constant watchfulness, the eager waiting for the
enemy who never comes, the patrolling in the midst of winter tempests,
enough to try the nerves of the strongest--but all the time the
certainty that the old-time message will receive fresh illustration
each day--"England expects that every man will do his duty."
The wooden walls have passed away, and steel walls have taken their
place, but the men are brave as of old--only better far and nobler. No
longer the scum of our seaport towns, pressed into the service against
their will, but men who are there because they choose and dare, and
who are willing any day to die for their native land.
Christian bravery, too, is as much in evidence on sea as on land. Take
this little story as an evidence of that fact. It is full of the joy
of glad surrender for another.
"A sailor who had just got converted at the Sheerness Hall, when he
rose from his knees at the mercy-seat, with the joy of salvation in
his face, said, 'I am glad to be saved. I was on the ---- (one of the
cruisers torpedoed) when she sank. I and another member of the crew, a
Salvationist, had been swimming about in the water for two hours or
more, and were almost exhausted, when just as we were about to give up
we saw a spar, made for it, and took hold. But, alas! it was not big
enough to keep us both afloat. We looked at each other. For a time,
one took hold while the other swam, and then we changed over.
"'We kept this up for a bit, but it was evident we were getting
weaker. Neither of us spoke for a while, and then presently the
Salvationist said, "Mate, death means life to me; you are not
converted, you hold on to the spar and save yourself; I'll let go.
Good-bye!"
"'And he let go and went down!'"
When we have Christian men like that on our men-of-war, we need not
fear for our country, nor for the Kingdom of Christ. And so not only
now, but when the war is over let us pray:
"O! hear us when we cry to Thee
For those in peril on the sea."
I close this chapter with one more quotation. It is from the
_Methodist Recorder_. It may be a comfort to some who lost dear ones
in the _Hawke_, or in some of the other ships which have met a similar
fate.
"On the Sunday before the _Hawke_ met her doom, one of our chaplains
conducted Divine service on the cruiser. As soon as he went on board
he was taken to the cabin of one of the warrant officers--a local
preacher--who is one of the few survivors of the disaster. About
thirty men gathered together. A few hymns were sung from the little
blue books, which have quite captured the sailors' hearts. The
chaplain read the latter part of Romans viii.--that great message of
inseparable love and glowing assurance. He then spoke from the words,
'All things work together for good to them that love God.' The men
listened most earnestly to the message. One of them asked that the
hymn--which has such sad but heroic associations,--'Nearer, my God, to
Thee' might be sung. The little service closed with prayer by the
warrant officer. As the chaplain shook hands with each man, one and
another said, 'Thank you, sir.' Arrangements were made to have another
service when the _Hawke_ next came into port. But that will never be.
To those whose hearts ache for the brave dead of the _Hawke_, there is
no sweeter message than that which was given to the men on their last
Sunday morning, 'All things work together for good to them that love
God.'"