A small cog, perhaps, in the machinery of mercy, but a necessary one.  A vital cog in the vast machinery of war—­that is the boy scout to-day.

The day after the declaration of war the Belgian scouts were mobilised, by order of the minister of war—­five thousand boys, then, ranging in age from twelve to eighteen, an army of children.  What a sight they must have been!  How many grown-ups can think of it with dry eyes?  What a terrible emergency was this, which must call the children into battle!

They were placed at the service of the military authorities, to do any and every kind of work.  Some, with ordinary bicycles or motorcyles, were made dispatch riders.  The senior scouts were enlisted in the regular army, armed, and they joined the soldiers in barracks.  The younger boys, between thirteen and sixteen, were letter-carriers, messengers in the different ministries, or orderlies in the hospitals that were immediately organised.  Those who could drive automobiles were given that to do.

Others of the older boys, having been well trained in scouting, were set to watch points of importance, or given carbines and attached to the civic guard.  During the siege of Liege between forty and fifty boy scouts were constantly employed carrying food and ammunition to the beleaguered troops.

The Germans finally realised that every boy scout was a potential spy, working for his country.  The uniform itself then became a menace, since boys wearing it were frequently shot.  The boys abandoned it, the older ones assuming the Belgian uniform and the younger ones returning to civilian dress.  But although, in the chaos that followed the invasion and particularly the fall of Liege, they were virtually disbanded, they continued their work as spies, as dispatch riders, as stretcher-bearers.

There are still nine boy scouts with the famous Ninth Regiment, which has been decorated by the king.

One boy scout captured, single-handed, two German officers.  Somewhere or other he had got a revolver, and with it was patrolling a road.  The officers were lost and searching for their regiments.  As they stepped out of a wood the boy confronted them, with his revolver levelled.  This happened near Liege.

Trust a boy to use his wits in emergency!  Here is another lad, aged fifteen, who found himself in Liege after its surrender, and who wanted to get back to the Belgian Army.  He offered his services as stretcher-bearer in the German Army, and was given a German Red Cross pass.  Armed with this pass he left Liege, passed successfully many sentries, and at last got to Antwerp by a circuitous route.  On the way he found a dead German and, being only a small boy after all, he took off the dead man’s stained uniform and bore it in his arms into Antwerp!

There is no use explaining about that uniform.  If you do not know boys you will never understand.  If you do, it requires no explanation.