ing the week following the commencement of the offensive, the wounded
were brought back in twos and threes from the contested area over which
attacks and counter-attacks were taking place. One plucky Englishman was
discovered about fifty yards in front of our trenches. He was waving a
handkerchief tied to the handle of his intrenching tool.
Stretcher-bearers ran out under fire and brought him in. He had been
wounded in the foot when his company were advancing up the slope fifteen
hundred yards away. When it was found necessary to retire, he had been
left with many dead and wounded comrades, far from the possibility of
help by friends. He had bandaged his wound with his first-aid field
dressing, and started crawling back, a few yards at a time. He secured
food from the haversacks of dead comrades, and at length, after a week of
painful creeping, reached our lines.

Another of our comrades was discovered by a listening patrol, six days
after he had been wounded. He, too, had been struck down close to the
enemy's second line. Two kind-hearted German sentries, to whom he had
signaled, crept out at night and gave him hot coffee to drink. He begged
them to carry him in, but they told him they were forbidden to take any
wounded prisoners. As he was unable to crawl, he must have died had it
not been for the keen ears of the men of the listening patrol. A third
victim whom I saw was brought in at daybreak by a working party. He had
been shot in the jaw and lay unattended through at least five wet October
days and nights. His eyes were swollen shut. Blood-poisoning had set in
from a wound which would certainly not have been fatal could it have
received early attention.

We knew that there must be many wounded still alive in the tall grass
between our lines. We knew that many were dying who might be saved. The
Red Cross Corps made nightly searches for them, but the difficulties to
be overcome were great. The volume of fire increased tremendously at
night. Furthermore, there was a wide area to be searched, and in the
darkness men lying unconscious, or too weak from the loss of blood to
groan or shout, were discovered only by accident.

Tommy Atkins isn't an advocate of "peace at any price," but the sight of
awful and needless suffering invariably moved him to declare himself
emphatically against the inhuman practices in war of so-called Christian
nations.

"Christian nations!" he would say scornfully. "If this 'ere is a sample