One Young Man | Page 4

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 office. I must decide when my thoughts were cool and collected. The second week in November brought the climax. I knew my duty was to fight.
"So I enlisted in a London Territorial Regiment whose first battalion was already in France and would require frequent drafts. I did not hesitate about joining a fighting unit. Other units are very necessary, but I wouldn't let another man do my fighting for me. I had some difficulty about a slightly weak heart caused by a severe illness a few years before. However, with the words that 'the life would either make or break me,' I was accepted for active service."
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