e comes he is so much better
that it is decided he can go by train if it comes first. It does come
first. '_Train in!_' runs through the wards like lightning. There are
hurried good-byes, gathering together of souvenirs, wistful eyes of
those who cannot yet go, watching those who can. Cars are brought round
to the side entrance, stretchers slipped into their grooves, and the
convoy is off to the station. The long train, already half filled, lies
waiting. There is a last little passage across the platform, coming and
going of bearers, the inevitable argument with the R.T.O., a warning
shriek from the engine, and the train to the base has gone.

II

'_Do you think that sort of thing matters now?_'

A clearing station is just what its name denotes. It clears the wounded
from a large number of field ambulances, each of which is split into
several advanced dressing stations. Each of these in turn draws from
several aid-posts. All the wounded, and all the sick who get beyond the
ambulances, must pass through the station. There they are put in trim
for the journey to the base, or are sent to a convalescent depot if a
week or two will see them fit for duty again.

The Church of England chaplain was as friendly and accommodating as I
was anxious to be. We made sure that one of us saw every man to speak to
when he was brought in, and noted to which ward he was taken. For the
distribution of writing-paper, newspapers, and magazines, tobacco and
cigarettes, we divided the work, so that in one day each took half the
number of wards, on the next day reversing the half. In the case of
serious illness or trouble we kept more closely to our own men. We both
had our store of Testaments. Of all editions supplied to the troops that
of the National Bible Society of Scotland is the best. It is the most
attractive, in its bright red binding--one gets so tired of khaki--and
it contains the Psalms, so priceless and unfailing in time of war. I
think it a pity that they are in the metrical rather than the prose
form. On the other hand, an officer once told me he found it impossible
to settle to read the Bible. His experience was that a booklet of
familiar hymns was of most spiritual value to him. He would pull it out
in his dug-out and read a verse, and then put it back again. On Sundays
we held our morning services separately, in the reception room at
different hours. If it was possible there might be one or two quiet
services in the wards