THE STUDENT IN ARMS.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 242, 12 October 1929, Page 8

THE STUDENT IN ARMS.

Educated at Oxford and trained for both the army and the Churci., Donald Hankey, the author of "The Student in Arms" books, "passed over' in the battle of the Somme on October 12, 1910, thirteen years ago to-day. In his trenchant pen tales of the war he has left behind him, in the guise of pseudo-fiction, an indelible impression of incidents and personalities that came under his notice. Both the humour and the pathos of those days are reflected through the medium of his own wholesome mentality. There is no filth m the Avar mud that he shows us;"the censor can safely go to sleep over it with both eyes shut it he likes. " 'The New Army,' 'Kitchener's Army, we go by many names. . ... We are a mixed lot—a triuniph'of democracy like the tubes . . . but for the most part we are aggressively cheerful, and were, never .fitter in Our lives. Some miss their glass of claret, others their fish and chips; but as we all sleep on the floor and have only one suit which is rapidly becoming disreputable you would never tell t'other from which. .' Above all, he reveals the irrepressible spirit of "Kitchener's Mob"—"Anyhow, we are _ Kitdiener's Army and we are quite sure it will be all right. Just send us to Flanders and see if it ain't. . . . We're^Kitch ener's Army, and we don't care if it snows ink." That was the spirit in which the British Army did its part in winning the war. It was the spirit of men who didn't care if it "snowed ink," men who "did not endure hardship, they derided it." Then comes "The Beloved Captain," that touchingly ingenuous portrayal of an honest leader learning his job: "Of course he made mistakes, and when that happened he never minded admitting it. He would explain what mistakes he had made and try again. The result was that we began to take almost as much interest and pride in his progress as he did in ours. . . ." And so on, throughout the book. . Hankey also wrote "Tlie Good Side of Militarism," "Religion and Common Sense," "The Cross" and "The Lord of All Good Life." In the interests of his work in the Oxford and Bernioiidsey Mission, in the East End of London, he travelled on an emigrant ship to Australia in 191.2, intending to write a book on emigration. This object, however, he did not fulfil. I myself had the good fortune to travel by that same ship, not as an emigrant, for I was returning to hiy birthland, New Zealand. And. so for a few Weeks I had the pleasure of meeting Donald Hankey, who was at first trying vainly to look like an emigrant in the old-time sense of the term. Feeling very strange and uncomfortable, I remember envying the complete carelessness with which he wore tlie red handkerchief round his iieck and the very deliberate manner in which he tilted the slouch hat over his face. We were given places nearby at mess (I use the term advisedly), and though wo rarely met except at meal time, yet from Antwerp to the Antipodes is quite long enough to make or mar good friendship. Many as were the discussions that we had with "The Emigrant" on general topics, of his personal interests we learnt comparatively little, but we were privileged to appreciate a mind rich in fine thoughts and high ideals. He spoke a little of his Junior Republic work at the Bermondscy Mission, I and in a way that showed that he had left his heart there. I remember making a remark to the effect that the boys would miss him. "No," came the quick reprimanding reply, "I have taught them to do without me." By the significance of In's tone he seemed proud of the accomplishment, and seemed, in fact, to have made a point of not allowing his presence and his efforts to become necessary to the organisation. Where are the leaders who are proud to be done without? Donald Hankey was at that time much interested in a new theology, or rather a new interpretation of the old creed, as it were. But while he criticised modern Christianity freely he never for a moment swerved from a splendidly firui belief in the Christian faith. Howbeit, dissatisfactions and criticisms about religion Were quashed on Sunday evenings aboard that ship. The singing of hymns by the third class was the star turn for the week. Mouth organs, concertinas and guitars came to the assistance of the old piano in guiding hundreds of lusty voices (I think there were quite three or four hundred of us) through the -Well-known tunes. Great Wasts of sound rose to the roof of that saloon, as it were the hot breath of some vigorous furnace, and such indeed/ it was. That ear-splitting hymn singing at sea Was the great breath of hope; it was the eouiid of hundreds of hard-working people singing on their way to a new land and a new future. I think it was the most inspiring noise I have ever listened to. You not only thrill before such a blast of enthusiasm; you tremble before it to the point of tears. Somewhere on the edge of the crush Donald Hankey.was generally to be seen, smiling quietly, for that hymn singing was a creed beyond criticism. —BARBARA BUSBY.