Bill Ransley was a Scripture Reader who visited sick and wounded soldiers in military hospitals near Boulogne, France.
In his 1916 journal1, he commented on how people responded to the gospel: ‘I made a special effort amongst the Hospital Orderlies by visiting them in their huts and inviting them to a Voluntary Service; for I had felt that perhaps the Personnel had been neglected. I explained that I would hold an informal Service at any hour of their own choice…
Persevering
‘They decided 8.15pm as their most suitable time. Accordingly, I was there with one of their number, who had volunteered to play the organ. Only eight attended… On the seven following Sundays, I persevered with them, by visiting them and inviting them to the Service; but only the organist turned up. ‘It is the remarkable testimony of many who have been responsible for conducting Voluntary Services in our various Base hospitals that Doctors and Orderlies are very difficult to get to attend them. I am disposed to think that the explanation as regards the Orderlies at our Base hospitals is, they have comfortable beds, good feeding, regular Pay days, and town attractions. These conditions tend to foster self-satisfaction and the spirit of indifference towards spiritual things.
Peer-group pressure
‘Then, of course, there is the “fear of man that bringeth a snare”2, which accounts partly for their attitude. Many would not only like to attend Services, but to be wholly on the side of God; but until a man, living the corporate life of the Army, has taken a definite and open stand for Christ, he is very rarely found courageous enough to ignore the jeer & chaff of his comrades, who, more often than not, conclude that if a man attends a religious service or meeting he is necessarily professing to be religious, and treat him accordingly. “Halloa! you’ve been to the Scripture Reader’s Tent” or “to Church!” is often said to men [who are] returning from these places, and is sufficient to “choke them off” in too many cases, when there is not the softening influence of suffering, which our sick and wounded go through, to counteract this “fear of man” and indifference, as suffering certainly does counteract it, as shown by the eagerness with which the patients ask for Services, and like to be talked to upon the subject of religion.
Wounded
‘A Canadian, slightly wounded, and marked to be sent to a [Convalescent] Camp, said to me: “I wish I had got a ‘Blighty’3 one.” I told him of many who had wished like him, and were sorry that they got what they wished for. Then he began to swear and grumble about everything and everybody. The contrast between the patients who were badly wounded, or are sick and very ill, and those who are not, is remarkable! The former are patient, uncomplaining, and most grateful for the least kindness shown to them; the latter, many of them, are shocking grumblers.
‘An elderly man, wounded in the head, said to me: “As bad as my wound is, and the consequent suffering, I do really thank God for it; for it has been the means of leading me to think seriously, and by God’s grace I am a changed man.” He died very shortly after the visit.’
