octor in his shirt sleeves had just finished binding up the
stump of a man's leg, the lower part of which had been torn away by a
piece of shell. He stood up, mopped his forehead, and, after bidding the
carriers take the man away, he lay on the ground practically exhausted,
dried blood still upon his hands and arms and scissors held loosely in
his fingers; he closed his eyes to try and doze.

"That doctor is a marvel," said an officer to me. "He snatches a few
moments sleep between his cases. Now watch!"

Another stretcher-party was coming in, and it was set down. An orderly
went up to the doctor and lightly touched him on the shoulder.

"Another case, sir," he said.

The doctor opened his eyes and quickly rose to his feet.

The wounded man's head was bound round with an old handkerchief, matted
with blood which had dried hard. Warm disinfectant was quickly brought
and the doctor proceeded to gently loosen the rough bandage from the
head, revealing a nasty head wound, a gash about three inches long and
very swollen.

"What do you think of that?" he said, holding out something in his hand
to me, "that's from this lad's head."

I looked and saw that it was a piece of his shrapnel helmet about two
inches square, it had been driven into the flesh on his head,
fortunately without breaking the skull. The wound was quickly dressed
and the doctor again lay down to snatch a few more moments' respite.

"This will go on all night," said the padre, "and all day to-morrow.
Have a cup of tea at my canteen, will you?"

Having had nothing to eat or drink all day I accepted the invitation. On
the opposite side of the wood was a small shack built of old lumber, and
every man before he left by ambulance received a cup of tea or coffee
and biscuits.

"I find the boys greatly appreciate it," he said.

I joined him in a cup of tea.

"Don't you think it's a good idea?"

"Excellent," I replied, "like heaven to a lost soul."

"Look round here," he said, pointing away in the distance. "Did you ever
see such a ghastly travesty of nature, the whole country-side swept
clean of every green and living thing, beautiful woods and charming
villages blown to the four winds of heaven, and _this_ might have been
our own beautiful sunny downs, our own charming villages. The British
public should go down on its knees every day of the week and thank God
for their deliverance."

The sun was now setting, and having obtained all the scenes I re