SIDELIGHTS ON THE WAR

New Zealand Tablet, 16 November 1916, Page 19

SIDELIGHTS ON THE WAR

i ♦ GENERAL. St. Joseph's congregation, Glasgow, has contributed over eleven hundred members to the fighting forces of the Empire. Over one hundred of these have already been killed in action. The Holy Father having authorised priests on duty with the Italian troops to accept decorations conferred on them by the Italian Government, thirty priests are about to receive the Military Medal for heroism at the front. In an air raid on Venice bombs were dropped on the church of Santi Giovanni e Paolo, which, after St. Mark's, is the most imposing church in the city. The equestrian statue of Colleoni, which stands in front of the church, was not damaged, though it was covered with debris from the explosion in the church. The King has granted General Sir Douglas Haig his authority to wear the Insignia of Knight Grand Cross of the Order of St. Maurice and St. Lazarus, which decoration has been conferred upon him by the. King of Italy. The Order of St. Maurice was founded in 1434, and that of St. Lazarus for the assistance of lepers at the time of the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem. Sergeant Joseph P. Sullivan, aged 22 years, of the Durham Light Infantry, whose home is at Darlington, County Durham, met with a sad end a few weeks ago. While instructing a body of men in bombthrowing at South Shields, a bomb exploded, and he received dreadful injuries, to which lie succumbed in hospital. Deceased was wounded at the front, and during his convalescence at South Shields saved a little girl from a fast approaching tramcar, being himself injured in the act. He was appointed Rifle Instructor to the D.D.1., and was a highly popular N.C.O. The body of deceased was taken to St. Bede's Church, and a Requiem Mass was offered by Rev. Father Walsh, a large number of relatives and friends being present. REMARKABLE ESCAPE OF STATUE OF • OUR LADY. The special correspondent of the London Times, in his account of the recent great battle of the Somme, gives the following description of what he saw somewhere during the fight: At the point from which we watched there is a ruined church and graveyard, the church no more than a few ragged stumps of masonry and the graveyard a thing obscene and terrible. In one spot there still stands an angle of two church walls, a few feet high, and in the angle, still on her pedestal, is a carved stone figure of the Blessed Virgin, her robes still blue and pink and gold embroidered in spite of two months of exposure to the weather, and in spite of all the smoke and gas fumes which have swept over her; and her face is still serenely beautiful. Around, on all sides of her, lie the ruins of war. Where the church' began or ended you cannot tell, for there is nothing but bits of shattered stone, pieces of shells, and litter of equipment

strewing the ground, on which there is no yard or level space, but only shell holes heaped with all the wreckage of battle. At some indeterminate point you psßs from what was church to what was graveyard, where every vault is gaping, every grave has been ploughed up. Splintered gravestones stand at all angles from dark holes and Tagged, twisted bits of iron monuments and crosses cover the ground or stand half upright; and everywhere, protruding, from those gaping vaults and holes, and sticking out of the edges of the shell holes,, are the bones of those who once occupied the graves. Nature has tried to cover the dreadful things with clumps of nettles and black knapween, but they will not be covered, for new shells fall daily and plough 'them up again, and, as you go, you clamber and stumble among shell-pits and broken monuments and pieces of shells or whole shells, unexploded, and shredp H of uniforms and equipment and remnants of mortality. . It was very horrible, very wonderful, to stand there in the grey of the dawn, amid a clamor and fury as if the world was truly coming to an end and all around you the graves had already given up their dead —and then to turn to the sweet Virgin in her blue and pink and gold with the infinite patience and eternal . pity on her face. BISHOP UNDER FIRE IN THE PULPIT. The courageous attitude of Mgr. Lobbedey, Bishop of Arras, has, more than once, been commented upon in these columns (says the Catholic Times). A military chaplain at the front describes a scene witnessed by him in a church on the line of fire, where the Bishop was presiding at the celebration of the feast of the local patron saint. With the full consent of the military authorities, the fete was organised by the cure, aided by this military chaplain. That particular portion of the front was comparatively quiet, and the Bishop's visit was not announced beforehand, in case it should be reported to the enemy. The church was crammed. The cure gave the best places to the soldiers and packed his parishioners at the back and in odd corners. ' Your Lordship will not be able to enter; the church is filled to overflowing,' said the military chaplain. ' All the better,' replied the Bishop, laughing, ' but you will see that a Bishop can always make room for himself among his people.' After Vespers had been chanted, the Bishop got up into the pulpit and began his sermon, taking for his text: ' Sanctificate helium' —'sanctify war.' His audience listened with rapt attention, till suddenly some heads turned nervously towards the door and, soon afterwards, the whizzing of a shell was clearly perceptible. A certain agitation might then be observed among the civilians ; quietly a few of them made their exit. The Bishop, standing straight up, broke off his sermon and, in a calm voice, said, 'Do not be alarmed, it is only un petit' bomb dement.' Knowing that he had a wide experience in such matters, the people instinctively quieted down immediately, and the officers present proceeded to make the women leave the church in order. Another whizzing sound, followed by a tremendous crash, caused a few screams among the women and children, but the Bishop, from the pulpit, spoke again Keep calm,' he said, 'I am going to bless you in the name of the bon Dieu,' and the solemn Latin words: Adjutorium nostrum in nomine Domini restored confidence to the agitated crowd. The choir answered qui fecit caelum et terrain, and the Bishop's voice rang out again: Sit nomen Domini bene dictum. Benedicat vos omnipotent Deus, Pater et Filius. . . .' The last words were lost in a terrific noise; it seemed as if the church was falling on the worshippers ! In reality, only a neighboring house was struck, not the church, where, with splendid courage, the people began to sing the popular cantique, ' Pi tie, mon Dieu.' The soldiers long remembered the day when, to use the words of one soldier who was present: i' The blessing of the Bishop of Arras stopped the shells. He is a plucky chap, there is no mistake about it,' added the admiring fighting man, on whom his chief pastor's attitude during the petite bombardement of that memorable afternoon made a deep impression.