rs came into my eyes at her willing, quiet helpfulness.

After she had finished writing my letter, I asked her about my condition.
She seemed reluctant to tell me, but as I urged her to do so she finally
said:

"Your leg will probably have to be amputated, as it has been completely
turned round and the knee badly shattered. Some splinters of shell still
remain in it."

She left me--but not for long. She had gone for the plate with the
impression of my knee. This she held up to what light could get through
the roof of the yellow canvas, and the picture I saw quite startled me. I
counted four little black specks around the joint, and to one piece in
particular she called my attention. It was about the size of a one-carat
diamond pointed at both ends and was embedded in the knee cap. This tiny
object was giving me nearly all of my pain.

The medical officer on his rounds approached us and greeted me with "You
certainly had a miraculous escape."

Later, one of my mates in the hospital, who was with my regiment, told me
how I got mine. He had witnessed it. A Jack Johnson striking about fifteen
yards in front of the trench I was in, exploded, caving the trench in for
a length of about thirty yards. I, with Sergeant Johnstone, who had come
up the previous day with reinforcements, was buried completely. Then the
Germans charged over the trench at our fellows, who retired to their
reserve trenches. However, the enemy was repulsed and had to retire to
their own lines again. This fight started about 2 P.M., and it was not
until about nine o'clock that night that our company came up and began to
re-open the trench. It seems that one fellow was about to use his pick
when another close by with a shovel noticed something in the form of a
head. He stayed the hand with the pick just in time. It was a head--and
mine at that. They completely unearthed me, and, as I looked to be dead,
placed me to one side with a waterproof sheet over me, to be buried later.
Luckily enough, a medical officer examined me and found there was still a
little life left. He used artificial respiration, put my legs in splints
made up of empty ration boxes, bandaged my damaged right hand, and sent me
to the Rouen Hospital, unconscious, but with a spark of life still in me.

Even after two weeks' stay in the hospital my condition was still very
critical, but I had the courage and optimism peculiar to the Scot and my
hopes for recovery endured stubbornly. The m