ed of the Munsters there said he didn't mind nothink
now,--he'd seen so many dead Germans as he never thought on. As always,
they have lost thousands, but they come on like ants.

They have only had about seven new cases to-day at the O.D.S., but two
of last night's have died. A Padre was with them.

They had no market this morning, for fear of bombs from aeroplanes.
There's been no shelling into the town.

_Tuesday, May 11th_, 6.30 P.M.--In bed. I went to bed pretty tired this
morning after an awful night (only a few of the less seriously wounded
had been evacuated yesterday, and all the worst ones, of course, left),
and slept like a top from 10.30 to 5, and feel as fit as anything after
it.

The fighting seems to have stopped now, and no more have come in to-day.
Last night a stiff muddy figure, all bandages and straw, on the
stretcher was brought in. I asked the boy how many wounds? "Oh, only
five," he said cheerfully. "Nice clean wounds,--machine-gun,--all in and
out again!"

The Padre came at 7.30 and had a Celebration in each ward, but I was
too busy to take any notice of it.

One of these officers was hit by a German shell on Sunday morning early,
soon after our bombardment began. He crawled about till he was hit again
twice by other shells, and then lay there all that day and all that
night, with one drink from another wounded's water-bottle; every one
else was either dead or wounded round him. Next morning his servant
found him and got stretcher-bearers, and he got here.

I don't know how they live through that.

_Wednesday, May 12th_, 6.30 P.M.--Slept very well. I hear from Gabrielle
that they have had a hard day at the O.D.S.; no new cases, but all the
bad ones very ill.

My little room is crammed with enormous lilac, white and purple, from
our wee garden, which I am going to take to our graves to-morrow in jam
tins.

_Thursday, May 13th_, 11 A.M.--Can't face the graves to-day; have had an
awful night; three died during the night. I found the boy who brought
his officer in from between the German line and ours, on Sunday night,
crying this morning over the still figure under a brown blanket on a
stretcher.

Of the other two, brought straight in from the other dressing station,
one only lived long enough to be put to bed, and the other died on his
stretcher in the hall.

The O.C. said last night, "Now this War has come we've got to tackle it
with our gloves off," but it takes some tacklin