to the distant engine; so it slowed down, and we
clambered breathlessly on. We are side-tracked now at the jolly place of
the Moor and the Wireless Lorries; probably move on in the night.

_Saturday, February 20th_, 9 P.M.--We've had a very unsatisfactory day,
loading up at four different places, and still on our way down. I'm just
going to lie down, to be called at 2 A.M. Now we're four: two go to bed
for the whole night and the other two take the train for half the night
when we have a light load, as to-day. If they are all bad cases, we have
two on and two off for the two watches. We have some Indians on to-day,
but most British, and not many _blesses_.

The other day a huge train of reinforcements got divided by mistake: the
engine went off with all the officers, and the men had a joy-ride to
themselves, invaded the cafes, where they sometimes get half poisoned,
and in half an hour's time there was a big scrap among themselves, with
fifty casualties. So the story runs.

A humane and fatherly orderly has just brought me a stone hot-water
bottle for my feet as I write this in the rather freezing dispensary
coach in the middle of the train, in between my rounds. All the worst
cases and the Indians were put off at B., and the measles, mumps, and
diphtherias, so there isn't much to do; some are snoring like an
aeroplane.

_Monday, February 22nd._--We got a short walk yesterday evening after
unloading at Rouen. There was a glorious sunset over the bridge, and the
lights just lighting up, and Rouen looked its beautifulest. We slept at
Sotteville, and this morning Sister and I walked down the line into
Rouen and saw the Paymaster and the Cathedral, and did some shopping,
and had a boiled egg and real butter and tea for lunch, and came back in
the tram. Sister S. is in bed with influenza.

The lengthening days and better weather are making a real difference to
the gloom of things, and though there is a universal undercurrent of
feeling that enormous sacrifices will have to be made, it seems to be
shaping for a step farther on, and an ultimate return to sanity and
peace. It is such a vast upheaval when you are in the middle of it, that
you sometimes actually wonder if every one has gone mad, or who has gone
mad, that all should be grimly working, toiling, slaving, from the
firing line to the base, for more Destruction, and for more
highly-finished and uninterrupted Destruction, in order to get Peace.
And the men who