THE RELIGION OF THE RED TRIANGLE
The work of the Y.M.C.A. is, to my mind, one of
the outstanding features of this war. Their
efforts, along with other agencies working for the
highest welfare of the Army, have shown a true
catholic spirit, and made it easier for our
soldiers to live a noble, true and clean life. May
God's blessing follow their increasing
influence.--THE CHAPLAIN-GENERAL TO THE FORCES.
The Y.M.C.A. has been one of the really great
things which have come into their own in this
world crisis. It has been a Hindenburg Line of the
Christian faith.--DR. MICHAEL SADLER,
VICE-CHANCELLOR OF LEEDS UNIVERSITY.
THE Y.M.C.A. is not in camp as a rival to the ordinary Church
organisations, nor yet to supplant or in any conceivable way to
undermine the influence of the chaplains. Its large and commodious huts
and tents have been used in thousands of camps for the official Church
Parade services, and in many cases there has been no other suitable
room available. We have counted it a privilege on Sunday mornings to
place our equipment unreservedly at the disposal of all the official
chaplains who desired to use it. We have welcomed the opportunity of
assisting the great and important work the chaplains are doing for the
men of His Majesty's Forces, for the Y.M.C.A. is itself a wing of the
great Christian army, and has sometimes been described as the Church in
action. Apart from the support in men and money it has received from
members of the Churches, the war work of the Red Triangle would have
been impossible. The Y.M.C.A. is not a church, and will never become
one. It administers no sacraments, its membership is confined to one
sex; it discourages in all its branches the holding of meetings that
clash with those of the Churches, and in every possible way each member
unattached is encouraged to join the Church of his choice.
In the course of a striking letter to _The Challenge_ of July 12, 1918,
a correspondent said:--'We turn, for an example, to the Y.M.C.A. Conceal
the unpleasant truth how we may, the outstanding religious performance
of this war in the eyes of the public at large has not been the daily
services in Church--not even the Holy Communion--but the work done in
the Y.M.C.A. huts. It is along those lines that we must travel if we are
to win the world. For the mediævally-minded, for the intellectually
timid, there is always Rome. But it is not by those that the new England
will be built, and it is the new England we must save for Christ.'
Another writer to the same Anglican journal said it had been stated that
'after the war there would be a holy Roman Church and a holy Y.M.C.A.,
but no more Church of England.' The fact of the matter is the Y.M.C.A.
is not making the work of the Churches unnecessary, but rather it is
giving the ordinary man a new conception of what Christianity really is,
and is thus helping to interpret the churches to the masses, and is
acting as a bridge or a communication trench between the organised
forces of Christianity in the front line, so to speak, and the great
masses away back in reserve, on which they desire to draw. Some people
have spoken sneeringly of 'canteen religion'; the soldier never
does--and why should he? There is nothing new about it, for it is as old
as the early days of Christianity, only the gospel of the 'cup of cold
water' has been adapted to the needs of modern warfare, so that the man
in the firing-line knows it from experience as the gospel of the 'cup of
hot coffee.' Straggling back to a clearing station, wounded, plastered
with mud, and racked with pain, the most eloquent of sermons would not
help him, but a hot drink, a few biscuits or even a cigarette, if given
in the name of the Master may put new heart and life into him, and give
him fresh courage for the way. The Churches realise this, and have given
us of their best as far as helpers are concerned.
We have a vivid recollection of visiting the big Y.M.C.A. hut in the
Cavalry Camp at Rouen in 1915. It was the ordinary week-night service,
and more than six hundred men were present. A famous Scottish preacher
had conducted the service, and at the close we chatted with him for a
few minutes in the quiet room. 'Before I came out to France,' said he,
'I knew you had a great opportunity. Now I know that the greatest
spiritual opportunity in history rests on your shoulders--is with the
Y.M.C.A.' And yet there is a way of doing spiritual work that would make
all spiritual work in camp absolutely impossible. We remember visiting a
big hut one day--it did not sport the Red Triangle, but was beautifully
furnished. Over the door was a bold device 'A Home from Home! All
Welcome!' On entering, the first thing one saw was the text 'Behold your
sins will find you out!' And a few yards further on 'The wages of sin is
death.' 'No smoking!' was another notice, and yet another, 'This hut
will be closed every evening from seven to eight for a gospel service.'
Religion to appeal to the soldier must be natural and not forced, and
must be free from controversy and unreality. The British soldier hates a
sham, and instinctively classes the hypocrite with the Hun. He may not
understand our Shibboleths; he has no use for our controversies, but he
can and does understand the Life of the Master, when he sees the beauty
of that Life reflected in some humble follower of His, who day by day is
risking his life at the Front, that he may supply a cup of cocoa to a
wounded soldier, or who is slaving behind a Y.M.C.A. refreshment counter
at home, and doing uncongenial work for the love of Christ.
* * * * *
When it was decided to send the Indian troops to France, the Y.M.C.A.
offered its services to the Indian Government. The offer was refused. At
last, however, permission was given to supply recreation marquees for
the use of the Indian Army in France, but only on condition that there
should be no proselytising, no preaching, no prayers, no hymn singing,
no Testaments or Bibles given, and no tracts. The Y.M.C.A. accepted the
conditions, and though some of its friends felt it meant lowering the
flag, it has loyally kept its promise, and most people realise to-day
that this was one of the greatest pieces of Christian strategy of our
times. A visit to one of the Red Triangle huts or tents in an Indian
camp is a revelation. You hear the Mohammedan call to prayer, see the
tiny mosque, and realise in how many and varied ways it is possible for
the Y.M.C.A. to be of service to these brave men of another faith. A
professor reported at one of the big base camps as a worker. He had come
to lecture to the troops, and when asked by the leader as to his
subjects replied, 'Sanscrit and Arabic.' The leader wondered how on
earth he could make use of a man as a lecturer to British Tommies, who
only lectured on those two obscure and difficult topics. The professor
found his niche, however, teaching the Mohammedan priest to read his
Koran--the leader commenting--'The more he knows it, the less he will
trust it.'
It is interesting to note how well these Indian heroes get on with our
own Tommies. They play their games and sometimes sing their songs. When
'Tipperary' was all the rage, the Indians had their own version of the
chorus, which they sang with great enthusiasm. It ran thus:
'Bura dur hai Tipperary,
Bura dur hai kouch ho,
Bura dur hai Tipperary,
Sukipas powncheniko,
Ram, ram, Piccadilly,
Salam Leicester Square.
Bura, bura dur hai Tipperary,
Likem dil hoa pus ghai.'
On one occasion the secretary of an important base said he had arranged
a new stunt for us that evening--the formal opening of a hut in the
Indian Cavalry Hospital Camp. We arrived to find the hut crowded, and a
great banquet arranged in our honour. Nothing need be said as to the
banquet or its disastrous results as far as we are concerned! The
Indians enjoyed it, and that was the important thing. Before the
banquet we had the privilege of greeting the men and welcoming them to
the Y.M.C.A., and after we had finished, the leading Mohammedan in the
camp mounted the platform and gave a great oration in honour of the
Christian Association. He was followed by the leading Brahmin, and he in
turn by the senior Sheik, all speaking in most cordial terms of the
Y.M.C.A. In the midst of the orations, a stately Indian advanced
solemnly and placed a garland of flowers round my neck. Thrice this
garlanding process was repeated on different occasions--lovely roses and
sweet peas--and it was a great and much appreciated honour, though it
made one feel a trifle foolish at the time. After the banquet we
proceeded to the adjoining recreation tent, and it was an inspiration to
see it crammed from end to end with men of many religions and different
races, all happy and contented and all usefully employed. On the
platform a 'budginee' or Indian concert was proceeding; a crowd of men
at the tables were learning to write; another crowd receiving a lesson
in English; a large group looking at pictures and illustrated magazines,
whilst others were playing games or listening enraptured to the strains
of the Indian records on the gramophone. The C.O. who took us round,
said that when the men came to France not one of them could even sign
his name to his pay book, they all had to do it by means of
thumb-prints. 'To-day,' said he, 'every man can sign his name, and many
can write an intelligent letter, and they have learned everything in the
Y.M.C.A.' A few days previously an Indian of some rank stood with folded
arms, his back against the wall, in that very tent. He said nothing, but
took in everything, and when the marquee closed for the night and the
dusky hero warriors retired to their tents, he spoke to the Indian
secretary in charge. 'I have watched you men,' said he; 'you are not
paid by the Government, you come when you like and you go when you like.
There is only one religion in the world that would send its servants to
do what you are doing--to serve and not to proselytise. When this war is
over and we return to India, I want you to send one of your men to my
village. My people are all Hindus, but they will do what I tell them. I
have been watching you carefully, and I have come to the conclusion that
Christianity will fit the East as it can never fit the West.' One of the
lessons of the Red Triangle is that you can never win men by
antagonising them, or by speaking disrespectfully of the things they
hold dear. Love must ever be the conqueror, and the love of all loves is
the love of God revealed in His Son, Jesus Christ.
* * * * *
Our Jewish friends were surprised and delighted in the dark days at the
close of 1914, to find that the doors of the Y.M.C.A. were thrown widely
open to their padres, who could gather in soldiers of their community to
worship God in their own way in the huts of the Red Triangle. They have
not been slow to show their appreciation--several Y.M.C.A. huts have
been given officially by Jews; one well-known and much used hostel bears
the name 'Jewish Y.M.C.A.,' and Jewish padres will go to any trouble or
inconvenience to help our work at home or overseas. No Red Triangle hut
can be used for proselytising by Catholic, Protestant, Moslem, or
Jew--that goes without saying--but any official chaplain is welcome to
the use of our huts for instructing his own people in their own faith.
[Illustration: THE Y.M.C.A. AT BASRA, MESOPOTAMIA]
A striking article recently appeared in a Catholic journal, from which
we cull the following paragraphs, expressing as they do another point
of view:--
'"R.C.," "C. of E.," "Y.M.C.A."--these three are
the religions of the Front. The drum-head service,
whilst nominally "C. of E.," is, of course, more a
military parade than a religious function. It is
not without a certain amount of picturesque Army
ceremonial, but to the Catholic soldier, as a
Catholic, the spectacle is an uninteresting one.
The Y.M.C.A., too, I think, would not claim to be
a religion. It is perhaps a religious institution;
a kind of spiritual ration-dump. Its huts, even
during a cinema show, and at the counters where
they sell Woodbines and chocolates, have a
Christianised atmosphere. No soldier fears to be
thought "too good" through attending a Y.M.C.A.
service. That is, perhaps, where its undoubtedly
great influence comes in. It gives the impression,
one supposes, to these soldiers that here they
have what the P.S.A. fraternity call "a man's
religion for man." It caters for the frequent
English soul which (perhaps in the Charity of God)
finds a path to Heaven in the singing of
second-rate hymns on Sunday evening; in the
constant repetition of "Abide with me," and "O
God, our help in ages past." It is difficult to
say if the influence of the Y.M.C.A. is much
responsible for the remarkably even, and
considering all things, somewhat high moral code
of the Army out here. Rather, perhaps (Deo
gratias), it is an English heritage from the past.
Most emphatically one cannot help being struck by
the excellent moral lives that many of these men
live, when all things are considered. Of course,
to a large extent, there is the lack of occasions
of sin. Drunkenness, most possibly, is rare
because the authorities have greatly restricted,
and wisely, the hours of drinking, and the beer,
etc., available, even if taken in large
quantities, is rarely intoxicating. Frankly, it
appears that the good influence of the Y.M.C.A. is
derived from the temporal comforts and
conveniences it offers to the much-tried B.E.F.
men. I stood outside a Y.M.C.A. building one
night, in the worst of weather, weather as foul as
it can be in France in war time. Three rain-sodden
Canadian infantrymen trudged along towards the
place, and their ears caught the sound of some
execrable piano-strumming. "Holy Hell," said one,
"there's some music there; come on!" That is the
story, in epitome, of the Y.M.C.A. In the mercy of
God, it is a good one."
[Illustration: THE CENTRAL Y.M.C.A., BAGHDAD]
* * * * *
A young soldier sent to an English paper the following interesting
account of a Communion Service held in one of our huts at the Front:--
'The following Tuesday, just as our company was
going "up the line" to the trenches, a Communion
service was held in the rest-room of the Y.M.C.A.
hut. I attended it along with nine other men, and
the service was conducted by a well-known Scottish
Y.M.C.A. worker, who at the time was acting as the
leader of the hut. In that little room we ten men
in khaki were verily in the presence of the
Unseen. I never realised Christ to be so near as
when we handled the elements. For myself I can
truly say that, in the grey dawn of the following
morning, I went up to meet the enemy with a
strange peace, and a deep assurance in my soul
that, come what might, I need fear no evil,
knowing that He was with me--and so it proved to
be. Our time in the trenches was the most exciting
I have yet experienced, but He kept near, and so
"all's well."'