s a house in the place which had not been hit, and the
number of shells that must have rained on that small area
would have sufficed not so many years ago for the siege of a
large town. The church was destroyed beyond any possibility of
repair. The roof was gone entirely, and large portions of the
walls; a great piece of the tower had been blown clean out, and
the tower itself was leaning dangerously. The bombardment of
the church must have been terrific, for even the heavy pillars of
the aisle had been snapped across. Of the altar only the solid
stones remained, surrounded by fragments of what had once
been the stained glass of the apse, and the twisted remains of
the great brass candlesticks which had stood beside the altar.
Only a few weeks ago this was an old parish church of singular
beauty. Now even the graves in the churchyard have been torn
open by the shells. These few battered walls, these heaps of
stone and brick, are all that remain of a prosperous village and
its ancient church.

The dressing station of the Ambulance Corps was one of their
most daring and successful ventures. At first it was placed
close to the trenches and just behind the railway station, in the
house of the village chemist. At least there were evidences in
the existence of portions of walls, roof, and floors that it had
once been a house, and the chemist had left a few bottles
behind to indicate his trade. But I do not think that anyone but a
member of the Corps would have ever thought of living there.
There was plenty o ventilation, of course, since there were no
windows left, part of the roof had gone, and the walls were
riddled with holes through which shells had passed clean
across the building. It could hardly be described as a desirable
residence, but it had one incomparable advantage: it possessed
a cellar. A couple of mattresses and a few blankets converted it
into a palace, whilst the limits of luxury were reached when there
arrived a new full-sized enamelled bath which one of the
soldiers had discovered and hastened to present as a mark
of gratitude. There was no water-supply, of course, and I do
not think that there was a plug, but those were mere trifles.
How such a white elephant ever found its way to Pervyse none
of us will ever know. I do not believe that there was another for
twenty miles around.

In this strange residence--it could hardly be called a house--
lived two of the lady members of the Corps. They were relie