I got it from a sergeant major whose men told me that he was a fine soldier and a brave man, and more than that, that he was 'like a father to them.' That, sergeant major, was my own father.

From him I learned that my job was not to jump on men for their faults, but to help men to know God, who is our Father in Heaven, and, men, I think if I can do this, I shall count myself happy, for He is worth knowing, and we all need Him." His words gripped them hard.

Then he added, "Before I say 'good night,' may I have the privilege of leading you to Him in words that you have all learned at your mother's knee ?" Then simply he spoke the words of that immortal prayer, the men joining in low and reverent voices.
After the prayer, he quietly said, "Good night!" and was passing out of the hut.

He had not got to the door, however, when the sergeant major's voice arrested him.
"Sir, on behalf of the sergeants, I thank you for coming in and I thank you for your words.

You have done us all good." The following morning, a sergeant from a neighbouring battalion, visiting the transport lines, and observing Barry passing along with Major Bayne on the battalion parade ground, took occasion to remark: "That is your padre, ain't it?
He checks you fellows up rather short, don't he ?" "Yes, that is our padre, or Pilot, as we like to call him," was Sergeant Mackay's answer, "but I want to tell you that he can just check us up until our heads touch the crupper, and it's nobody's damned business but our own." "Well, you needn't get so blasted hot over it.