Amid the stir and strain of actual war we sang of a “day of rest and gladness”; and turned our thoughts to the Saviour who knows each man “by name.”  I then hurried back to the camp of the Guards’ Brigade for a similar service in the open air at eight o’clock; but here a common type of confusion occurred.  I had arranged to hold it in front of the Scots Guards’ camp, but in one battalion it was announced that it would take place precisely where the Church of England service had just been held, and in another precisely where the Roman Catholic service had just been held.  So before my service could begin, the shepherd had to seek his sheep and the sheep their shepherd.  Finally, by several instalments, we got together, forming a circle, seated on the sand; and then we gave ourselves to prayer and praise, followed by a brief sacramental service of glad remembrance and renewed consecration.  A camp mug and a camp plate placed on the bare sand for table betokened a ritual of more than primitive simplicity; but thus on the eve of battle did a band of godly soldiers give themselves afresh to God in Christ.

’A similar open-air service was fixed for the evening, but never came off.  It may have been one of the sad necessities of war time, but was a fact, nevertheless, deeply to be deplored, that at four o’clock on Sunday afternoon our guns, which had been silent for a fortnight, again opened fire and shelled the Boers with lyddite.  As I listened to the thunder and the thud of them I could not quite repress a wonder whether that was quite the best possible way of propitiating the God of battle.  At eight o’clock, under cover of the darkness, we marched silently out of camp, confident and strong, and bivouacked till midnight just beyond the river.  Nearly every other night since we came upon this ground had been brightened by starlight, but on this occasion rain had fallen during the day, and dense darkness covered us at night.  So, with my mackintosh wrapped around me, I lay for hours among the troops on the damp ground awaiting the order to resume our midnight march.  Soon after one o’clock we were again on the move; but our only light was the tell-tale searchlight from Kimberley, and many a vivid flash of lightning, which only served to make the darkness visible.  It was not long, therefore, before the whole brigade hopelessly lost its way, and had to halt by the hour, while the persistent rain drenched almost every man, standing grimly silent, to the skin.

’Precisely at earliest dawn the splendid Highland Brigade appears to have stumbled into a horrible snare, and in such close formation as to render them absolutely helpless against their foes.  Instantly their general fell, mortally wounded; for a moment the whole Brigade seemed in a double sense to have lost its head, and, in spite of the fierce and terribly effective fire of our artillery, there followed, not indeed an actual defeat, but none the less a grave disaster, involving further delay in the relief of Kimberley and the loss of over 700 brave men killed and wounded.