Captain Bartlett looked around him. The carnage was beyond belief. The bottom of the
trench was littered with the dying and the wounded, but he could not tell who they were.
The blood and the mud hid most of their features. Young men all of them, mere boys who had
never even had the chance to know what life was all about before they had been introduced
the wrong end of the German heavy machine guns. What madman was running this war? He felt sick to his stomach at the death and the waste that was before his eyes. 30,000
young lives had evaporated into the mists of time yesterday, and it looked as if today was
going to beat the previous days record. A moan to his left attracted his attention and he looked down towards the pale drawn
face of the dying soldier. He knelt down and gently placing his hand under the soldiers
head and raised it out of the mud. He daren't look at the wounds in case the young man saw
his eyes betray his own feelings of horror and futility. But he didn't need to look, he could here those .762 holes bubbling and churning as his
lifeblood mingled with the mud that surrounded them. The young man's lips quivered slightly, but Bartlett knew that he was not in pain. The
initial impact of a bullet numbs all the nerves as it hits, and this young man had three
of four holes in his chest. He took the lighted cigarette from between his own lips and
offered it in the young soldiers direction. The soldier's lips parted slightly to receive
it in grateful anticipation, but Bartlett knew that he would not live long enough to
finish it. The sound of boots slurping through the mud came from behind but Bartlett didn't even
glance in their direction, keeping his eyes fixed on the young dying soldier in his arms. "Sir, I must bring to your attention the fact that if any of these boys die
without being baptised they are doomed." A voice squeaked from behind him. "What?" Bartlett asked, hardly able to believe his ears. "Oh yes, sir, doomed, sir, yes sir, quite so sir, they are all doomed unless they
are baptised". "Baptised"? Bartlett uttered, almost choking. "Yes sir, and it must be full immersion, sir, none of this mamby pamby drop of
water on the forehead stuff. No sir they must all be fully immersed. If they had only
believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, sir they might have escaped all of this. Look at me I
have been baptised, and I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and not a scratch. Bartlett shook his head in wonderment. "Then you had better have a word with your
boss and pray for rain, hadn't you son, unless being baptised in blood counts," "No, sir, that isn't mentioned. It must be water, and it must be full immersion.
The good book tells us all about it. That cigarette won't do him any good, sir. Ask him if
he has been baptised. If he hasn't he may still have a chance to pray and ask God to
forgive him for not doing so. I don't know whether God will accept such an apology or not,
because we are told that he must be baptised, but its worth the chance. Bartlett didn't bother answering as the young soldier in his arms sighed his last sigh,
but he had already made up his mind who was going to be first over the top at the next
sound of the whistle. Keith Mason
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