planes whose motors we could hear even at that minute, humming in the
black sky above us.

Our American wounded were lying on stretchers all over the floor. Near
the door, where I entered, a number of pews had been pushed to one side
and on these our walking wounded were seated. They were smoking
cigarettes and talking and passing observations on every fresh case that
came through the door. They all seemed to be looking at me.

My appearance must have been sufficient to have shocked them. I was
hatless and my hair was matted with blood. The red-stained bandage
around my forehead and extending down over my left cheek did not hide
the rest of my face, which was unwashed, and consequently red with fresh
blood.

On my left side I was completely bare from the shoulder to the waist
with the exception of the strips of white-cloth about my arm and
shoulder. My chest was splashed with red from the two body wounds. Such
was my entrance. I must have looked somewhat grewsome because I
happened to catch an involuntary shudder as it passed over the face of
one of my observers among the walking wounded and I heard him remark to
the man next to him:

"My God, look what they're bringing in."

Hartzell placed me on a stretcher on the floor and went for water, which
I sorely needed. I heard some one stop beside my stretcher and bend over
me, while a kindly voice said:

"Would you like a cigarette, old man?"

"Yes," I replied. He lighted one in his own lips and placed it in my
mouth. I wanted to know my benefactor. I asked him for his name and
organisation.

"I am not a soldier," he said; "I am a non-combatant, the same as you.
My name is Slater and I'm from the Y. M. C. A."

That cigarette tasted mighty good. If you who read this are one of those
whose contributions to the Y. M. C. A. made that distribution possible,
I wish to herewith express to you my gratefulness and the gratefulness
of the other men who enjoyed your generosity that night.

In front of what had been the altar in the church, there had been
erected a rudely constructed operation table. The table was surrounded
with tall candelabrum of brass and gilded wood. These ornate accessories
had been removed from the altar for the purpose of providing better
light for the surgeons who busied themselves about the table in their
long gowns of white--stained with red.

I was placed on that table for an examination and I heard a peculiar
conversation going on about me. O