Most of all, “Blighty” goes to the soldier in his letters and there is nothing so dear to the soldier as his letters, and nothing is worse than to have “no mail.”  The woman who does not write, and the woman who writes the wrong things, are equally poor things.  The woman who wants to help her man sends him bright cheerful letters, not letters about difficulties he can’t help, and that will only worry him, but letters with all the news he would like to have, and the messages that count for so much.  Every woman who writes to a soldier has in that an influence and a power worthy of all her best.  Not only our letters but our thoughts and our prayers are a wall of strength to, and behind our men.

In this war some have talked of spiritual manifestations that saved disaster in our great retreat.  In that people may believe or disbelieve, but no person of intelligence fails to realize the power of thought, and love, and hope, and the spirit of women can be a great power to their men in arms.  There are so many ways of giving and sending that none of us need to fail.

Then he is in it—­in the trenches—­over the top—­and he may be safe or he may be wounded—­a “Blighty one,” as our men say, and we get him home to nurse and care for—­or he may make the supreme sacrifice and only the message goes home.

To everyone it must go with something of the consolation of the poem written by Rifleman S. Donald Cox of the London Rifle Brigade.

  “To My Mother—­1916

  “If I should fall, grieve not that one so weak
      And poor as I
      Should die. 
  Nay, though thy heart should break,
  Think only this:  that when at dusk they speak
      Of sons and brothers of another one,
      Then thou canst say, ’I, too, had a son,
  He died for England’s sake,’”

He may be a prisoner and then we follow him again.  There are over 40,000 of our men prisoners and we have over 200,000 of the enemy.  The treatment and conditions of our prisoners in Germany were sometimes terrible—­the horrors of Wittenberg we can never forget, and we are deeply indebted to the American Red Cross, for all it did before America’s entry into the war, for our prisoners.

From the beginning of the war we have had to feed our prisoners, and for the first two years parcels of food went from mothers, sisters and relatives of the men.  Regimental Funds were raised and parcels sent through these.  Girls’ Clubs and the League of Honour and Churches and groups of many kinds sent also.  The Savoy Association had a large fund and did a great work.

Parcels, which must weigh under eleven pounds, go free to prisoners of war and there are some regulations about what may be sent.  Now the whole work is regulated by the Prisoners of War Help Committee—­an official committee, and parcels are sent out under their supervision to every man in captivity.

Books, games and clothing also go out from us.  In most of the Camps and at Ruhleben, where our civilians are interned, studies are carried on, and classes of instruction, and technical and educative books are much needed and demanded.  Schools and colleges have sent out large supplies of these.