One Young Man | Page 4

stream of young men, newcomers in their
lounge suits, the others mostly in flannels. On we swept, down the
stairs into the large dining-hall. Sit where you please, act as if you had
been here all your life and treat everyone as an old pal, seemed to be
the order of the day, and in that atmosphere it was impossible to feel
anything but quite at home. Before tea was over we new arrivals were
infected with the same spirit of joviality, and were ready for the first
'rag.'

"I was shown the house and grounds by an old boarder. In addition to
the lounge, writing and smoking-rooms, there was a dark-room for
developing, a fully rigged 'gym,' and billiard-room; and so, in
inclement weather, every amusement was at hand. In the grounds were
tennis courts and croquet lawns.
"Every week drives were arranged to the beauty-spots and historical
places round about, but I appreciated most the facilities offered by a
temporary membership of the boating club for the absurdly small sum
of 3s. 6d. per week. For this one could have a skiff or, if a party, a large
boat, any day for any length of time, bathing costume and fishing tackle
thrown in. I took full advantage of this, and most mornings and
afternoons were spent on the water. We used to pull over to the
obsolete battleships that lay in the stretch of water between us and the
mainland. Here we would tether up and turn the gangway into a diving
platform. Happy indeed were these days spent with companions who
were in every sense of the word sportsmen and gentlemen."
Sportsmen and gentlemen--a new designation, perhaps, to some who
have judged these Y.M.C.A. members by hearsay only. It's Sydney
Baxter's not mine. And he ought to know well what the words mean
after two years in a line regiment at the front.

One Young Man Joins the Army

CHAPTER II
ONE YOUNG MAN JOINS THE ARMY
Sydney Baxter was most decidedly getting on in business. And then the
war came. I do not want you to have the impression that, at this time,
he was one of those sturdy, strapping young fellows who gladly rushed
into the ranks for the very joy of fighting. There were thousands of
them, I know, a glorious breed, but Sydney Baxter was not of that build.

So that there may be no mistake let me give his own words. They are
frank enough to be convincing.
"When war fell upon Europe I was one of those foolish people who
imagined that the Kaiser and his army would be completely crushed
before Xmas, 1914. For the first two months I never gave a thought to
the possibility of my becoming a soldier. I couldn't imagine myself
with a rifle and bayonet chasing Huns, or standing the rough-and-ready
life of the soldier, and the thought of blood was horrible. I had worn
glasses since I was a boy of twelve, and for that reason, among others, I
had not learnt the art of self-defence where quickness of vision is half
the battle. From appearances and manners one would have ticketed me
as a Conscientious Objector. I thank God I had not that conception of
my duty to Him."
And so Sydney Baxter went on with his work. There was plenty to do.
Reservists had been called up. Opportunities of advancement were
many. Some must stay and "keep the home fires burning." You know
all the arguments, all the self-justification of those days. His chance
had undoubtedly arrived. He was badly needed in the office. You shall
read his own confession.
"It was well into October before I realised the Call to Arms was a
personal one, and that the Hun was not so easily to be beaten. The
treatment of the Belgians hit me very hard, and, but for my home
circumstances, I should have donned khaki straight away. My position
was just this. My father had died some few months before, and left to
my care my mother and my sister. Their protection was my solemn
charge--there was no doubt about it in my mind. And yet, what was my
duty? To fight--or to stay and look after our little home? It is a problem
that thousands of us young men have had to wrestle with, and for
several days I wrestled with it alone. Mother was purely neutral; she
refused to influence me either way. Mother-like she could not
encourage my going, but she would never lift a finger to deter me. Her
answer was that it was entirely a matter of what I conscientiously felt
was my foremost duty. I never went near a recruiting meeting, so that I
should not be carried away by enthusiasm to the recruiting