to remark "there goes
the good old Lozier car." At the same time the piercing shrieks of a
woman rang out down the street, shrieks as from a woman who might have
had her child killed. We went to the door and looked out; the Lozier
was still intact, though later on we found the rounded corner of the
metal body of the car bent as though a piece of pave or metal of
several pounds weight had struck it, and the floor of the car was
covered with bits of broken glass and brick.

Major Hardy asked us to take his patient on to Vlamertinge as it was
doubtful when a motor ambulance would return, and we were glad to do
so. After being given the usual dose of anti-tetanic serum, he was
wrapped in blankets and made comfortable in the back seat. We shook
hands with the Major and started off for Vlamertinge.

It was too risky to go through the centre of the town on account of
falling walls, chimneys, and the swiftly descending fragments of
houses blown skyward. So we skirted the town and tried to get down a
side road to Vlamertinge. It was choked with refugees and transport,
and the military traffic policeman strongly advised us to take the
main road from Ypres. As there was no alternative we drove back to the
water tower in the city. This road was clear, for nobody was going
into Ypres at that time by that particular intersecting road.

We made all possible speed to get through the town and into the main
Ypres-Vlamertinge road. There wagons began to pass us going the
opposite way, the horses whipped into a gallop as they made haste to
get through the town to the bridge-head on the far side. Motor
transport lorries also drove at full speed to get by this danger point
as quickly as possible. As we cleared the town again, the traffic
became heavier, and we gradually worked into and formed part of a
great human stream with various eddies and back currents.

It was now dark, and but for the feeble light of a young moon, which
sometimes broke through the clouds and faintly illuminated the road,
nothing could be seen. All headlights were out, and not even the light
of a hand lantern or flashlight was permitted. Yet one's eyes became
accustomed to the dark, and when the pale moonlight came through we
could dimly see over on our right a line of French Turcos moving like
ghosts along towards Vlamertinge. Next them were the fleeing refugees
with their bundles, wagons and push carts, and their cows being driven
before them. If there was a car