Lord Jesus Christ, I stand here on the foremost fringe of the camp, and
am holding watch against the enemy; but wert Thou, Lord, not to guard
us, then the watcher watcheth in vain. Therefore, I pray Thee, cover us
with Thy grace as with a shield, and let Thy holy angels be round about
us to guard and preserve us that we be not fallen upon at unawares by
the enemy. Let the darkness of the night not terrify me; open mine eyes
and ears that I may observe the oncoming of the enemy from afar, and
that I may study well the care of myself and of the whole army. Keep me
in my duty from sleeping on my post and from false security. Let me
continually call to Thee with my heart, and bend Thyself unto me with
Thine almighty presence. Be Thou with me and strengthen me, life and
soul, that in frost, in heat, in rain, in snow, in all storms, I may
retain my strength and return in health to the _Feldwache_. So I will
praise Thy name and laud Thy protection. Amen.
It is the evening of the 2nd of December. Duerot has tried his hardest
to sup in Lagny, and has been balked by German valour. But not without
terrible loss. On the plateau and by the party wall before Villiers,
dead and wounded Germans lie very thick. In one of the little corries
in the vineberg poor Hans has gone down. The shells from Fort Nogent
are bursting all around, endangering the _Krankenträger_ while
prosecuting their duties of mercy and devotion. Hans has somehow bound
up his shattered limb; and as he pulled his handkerchief from his
pocket the little _Gebetbuch_ has dropped out with it. There is none on
earth to comfort poor Hans; let him open the book and find consolation
there in the prayer