TELEGRAPH HILL
The following Sunday I said Mass on Telegraph Hill. It was a very high
elevation and on all sides we could see, far below, the great green
valley. I counted as many as six light railway trains steaming their
way from different points towards the front. I think we were then about
seven or eight miles from the Canal du Nord, where the next big battle
was to take place. Some of the men came early and I stood talking to
them till all the soldiers, excepting the Thirteenth Battalion, had
come up. Thinking that there must be some mistake in orders and that
they had failed to receive notice of church service, I began to say
Mass. I had a large crowd of lads and they were formed up very near
the altar; some stood almost touching the altar in order to keep the
wind from extinguishing my candles. Nearly all my men had received the
Sacraments while in rest, so I gave a general absolution today, then
all went to Holy Communion.
Just as I had given the last men Holy Communion the Thirteenth came up,
their pipe band playing merrily. There was nothing left for me to do
but say another Mass for them. It was very gratifying to notice, as I
turned to make an announcement before beginning the second Mass, that
many of the men who had received Holy Communion at the first Mass still
remained kneeling on the ground as they made their thanksgiving.
During the second Mass a number of German airplanes tried to fly near
us, but from down in the valley our anti-aircraft guns barked and
shells shrieked upwards, bursting near the ’planes. All the men of the
Thirteenth, after a general absolution, went to Holy Communion.
I came down from Telegraph Hill that morning feeling that my men were
now ready, spiritually, for battle.