D FROM THE AISNE.

_September 15, 1914, to October 11, 1914._

Station duty--On train duty--Orders again--Waiting to go--Still at Le
Mans--No.-- Stationary Hospital--Off at last--The Swindon of France.

_Tuesday, September 15th._--The train managed to reach Le Mans at 1 A.M.
this morning, and kindly shunted into a siding in the station till 6.30
A.M., so we got out our blankets and had a bit of a sleep. At 7 a motor
ambulance took us up to No.-- Stationary Hospital, which is a rather
grimy Bishop's Palace, pretty full and busy. The Sisters there gave us
tea and biscuits, and we were then sorted out by the Senior Matron, and
billeted singly. I'm in a nice little house with a garden with an old
French lady who hasn't a word of English, and fell on my neck when she
found I could understand her, and patter glibly and atrociously back.
My little room has a big window over the garden, and will, I suppose, be
my headquarters for the present in between train and station duty, which
I believe is to be our lot. We go to a rather dim cafe for meals, and
shall then learn what the duty is to be. It is yet a long time coming.
We haven't had a meal since the day before yesterday, so I shall be glad
when 12 o'clock comes. Now for a wash.

_Wednesday, September 16th._--Still here: only four of the twenty-five
(five sets of five) who formed our unit have been found jobs so far: two
are taking a train of sick down to St Nazaire, and two have joined No.--
Stationary Hospital in the town. We still await orders! This is a
first-class War for awaiting orders for some of us.

Yesterday it poured all day. We explored the Cathedral, which is
absolutely beautiful, perched high up over an open space--now crowded
with transport and motor ambulances. We made tea in my quarters, and
then explored the town; narrow streets thronged with Tommies as usual.

We have lunch at eleven and dinner at seven, at a dingy little inn
through a smelly back yard; there is not much to eat, and you fill up
with rather nasty bread and unripe pears, and drink a sort of flat
cider, as the water is not good.

To-day it is sunny again. I have just been to High Mass (Choral), and
taken photos of the Cathedral and the Market below, where I got four
ripe peaches for 1-1/2d.

Writing in the garden of Mme. Bontevin, my landlady.

There is any amount of work here at the Bishop's Palace; more than they
can get through on night duty with bad cases, and another Jesuit C