t, walking gingerly over 9.2's (which formed convenient steps)
to find ourselves at the edge of the enormous crater already half filled
with water. It was incredible to believe a place of that size had been
formed in the short space of one second, and yet on the other hand,
when I remembered how the earth had trembled, the wonder was it was not
even larger.

It took weeks for that dump to be cleared up. Little by little the live
shells were collected and taken out to sea in barges, and dropped in
mid-ocean.

Not long after that the "Zulu," a British destroyer, came into port half
blown away by a mine. Luckily the engine was intact and still working,
but the men, who had had marvellous escapes, lost all their kit and
rations. We were not able to supply the former, unfortunately, but we
remedied the latter with speed, and also took down cigarettes, which
they welcomed more than anything.

We were shown all over the remains, and hearing that the "Nubia" had
just had her engine room blown away, we suggested that the two ends
should be joined together and called the "Nuzu," but whether the
Admiralty thought anything of the idea I have yet to learn!

Before the Captain left he had napkin rings made for each of us out of
the copper piping from the ship, in token of his appreciation of the
help we had given.

The Colonials were even more surprised to see girls driving in France
than our own men had been.

One man, a dear old Australian, was being invalided out altogether and
going home to his wife. He told me how during the time he had been away
she had become totally blind owing to some special German stuff, that
had been formerly injected to keep her sight, being now unprocurable.
"Guess she's done her bit," he ended; "and I'm off home to take care of
her. She'll be interested to hear how the lassies work over here," and
we parted with a handshake.

Important conferences were always taking place at the Hotel Maritime,
and one day as I was down on the quay the French Premier and several
other notabilities arrived. "There's Mr. Asquith," said an R.T.O. to me.
"That!" said I, in an unintentionally loud voice, eyeing his long hair,
"I thought he was a 'cellist belonging to a Lena Ashwell Concert party!"
He looked round, and I faded into space.

Taking some patients to hospital that afternoon we passed some
Australians marching along. "Fine chaps," said the one sitting on the
box to me, "they're a good emetic of their co